Keep My Secrets by Elena Wilkes (management books to read .txt) 📕

The hard edge of the enamel pan cut into her cheek and she closed her eyes. She was empty now; there was nothing left. There was no way forward, and definitely no way back. She was lost: utterly lost.

‘Oh!… Oh my goodness! Are you okay?’

She felt a pressure on her shoulder, and she opened her eyes. There was the scuff of feet behind her and the cubicle door bounced a little against the wall.

‘Gosh. Oh dear, you poor thing. Hang on.’

She heard the drum of copious amounts of tissue paper being pulled from the dispenser.

‘Here. Let me get some paper towels and wet them. Don’t try and get up. Stay there.’

The feet moved away. There was the sound of water gushing. She managed to pull herself up onto the closed toilet to sit, her forehead in her palms as she let herself breathe. The touch of something damp and cool against her fingers made her jump and she peered upward. A woman with tawny hair and kind eyes was crouching in front of her. Frankie dropped her hands.

‘Oh!’ The woman lurched back, her hands flailing to save herself. ‘Oh my God!’

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ Frankie blurted. The woman’s eyes filled with agony.

‘No, no it’s me. I’m the one that’s sorry. It’s just that you look—’ Her eyes welled. ‘Oh my goodness…’ Her fist moved to her chest as she stood, trying to control her breathing as though she might pass out.

Frankie stared at her in horror. Pink jacket.

Charlotte Vale’s mother.

She felt instantly queasy again.

‘You look like… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be saying this…’ The woman shook her head over and over. ‘But you’re not. Please forgive me… You just caught me off guard. It was such a shock, that’s all.’ She sniffed and tried to gather herself. ‘Never mind me, look at you, you’re not well. You don’t need me and all my silliness. Come on – let me help you.’

She put out a hand and Frankie reluctantly took it.

‘I’m Vanessa, by the way.’ She managed a smile.

‘Frankie.’ She licked her lips, hoping that she didn’t smell of puke.

‘So how are you feeling now?’ Vanessa scanned her face.

‘Better than I was.’

‘Well Frankie, shall I go and get someone? Who did you come with?’ Her face was kind, so, so kind as she glanced round.

But Frankie only shook her head. ‘No one, but honestly, I’m fine, really. I really should go.’ She gently pulled her hand away.

‘You haven’t got anyone with you?’ Vanessa looked immediately concerned. ‘Well, they’ve adjourned for lunch, so how about you and me go and get a cup of tea somewhere, hmm? My husband, Peter, has gone to find out what’s happening with my stepson, Jack. I can’t go, I just make them both more upset, and I think we’re all upset enough, don’t you?’ She attempted a smile, but her chin wobbled. ‘Anyway, there’s a café just around the corner. I hate sitting in places on my own, so you’d be doing me a big favour.’

‘Well…’ She wasn’t sure this was a good idea. It all felt pretty weird. Too weird. She took a step forward but staggered a little.

‘That sorts that, then,’ Vanessa said decisively. ‘You need a hot drink at least. Look at you – you’re incredibly pale and such a skinny-minny.’ She smiled but the pain in her eyes was like a flash of light. ‘Did you even have breakfast?’

The thought of breakfast was even worse.

‘Then I’m going to ask you to put up with my company, I’m afraid. Even if it’s only for half an hour.’ She put her hand briefly on her arm; it was a comforting gesture. ‘I promise, with a bit of food inside you, you’ll feel tons better.’

The café was thankfully only a few doors away. Vanessa fussed around Frankie for a few moments, settling her at a table before going to the counter and ordering food. She kept glancing back to make sure she was still there, but Frankie knew the only place she was possibly running to was the toilet. She grimaced and tried to ignore the horrible metallic taste in her mouth.

‘Here we are.’

A mug of tea descended over her shoulder and Vanessa sat down opposite with what looked like coffee.

‘I took a guess… Sugar?’ She slid the pot of sachets over.

‘No thanks. This is fine. Great… Thank you,’ she added. She picked up the mug and took a sip. The heat of the liquid was comforting.

‘My pleasure.’

She could feel Vanessa watching her over the rim of her cup. She dreaded what might be coming next.

‘Shall I just’ – she put the coffee down. ‘—Address the elephant in the room?’

Frankie couldn’t take her eyes off a lone crumb that was caught between the wooden slats of the table.

‘I think I knew most of Charlotte’s close friends – the ones who would be close enough to come to…’ She waved the circumstances away with a flinch.

Frankie kept her eyes on the crumb.

‘So if it’s not Charlotte, then I’m assuming you know Martin Jarvis.’

It was a statement and not a question.

‘And I’m also assuming that a very young and pretty girl like yourself knows him…’ She paused. ‘…Romantically?’

Her neck muscles wouldn’t let her nod.

‘I’m not surprised you got ill.’ She didn’t sound angry or judgemental; she just sounded sad. She reached across suddenly, touching the back of Frankie’s hand. ‘It all came as a shock, didn’t it?’

She had never had someone touch her so instinctively. The warmth of Vanessa’s fingers became her whole palm. Her skin was red hot. Frankie thought she might cry again. She glanced up. Vanessa was leaning across the table, her eyes searching her face. ‘Don’t feel awful, Frankie, don’t punish yourself; you’re just as much a victim as we are.’

She swallowed and then picked up her tea to cover it.

A waitress appeared with two plates. Vanessa glanced up with a grateful ‘thanks’ as they slid onto the table. She gestured to Frankie to help herself.

‘Are you okay