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

‘Christ! I was doing okay.’

‘I was really worried about you earlier, you know.’ He pulls the chair round and sits with his elbows on his knees.

‘I’m fine, honestly, but thank you.’ A terrifying thought suddenly comes to her. Has he just been through her phone?

‘You’re sure it isn’t anything to do with this Matthew Jarrow guy?’

She hides her face by putting the glass on the floor. ‘Honestly.’

‘Honestly?’

She nods. Jack’s message and his number on the call-log.

‘So Diane’s on your side?’

‘Yes.’

‘And everything’s okay? She’s reassured you?’

‘Yes, she did. She was really great. Can you pass me that towel?’ She gestures over to the rail without looking at him.

Alex gets up, pulling the bath sheet after him. She goes to take it, but he holds it just out of reach.

‘Where were you really?’

‘What do you mean?’ Her heart shunts up a gear. She makes a grab for the corner of the towel but misses.

‘I said, where were you really?’ He lets her have it but holds on to the other end as though he’s afraid to let go.

‘I heard the question, I just didn’t understand it.’

She tries to bury her face in its soft, fluffy warmth. There’s a black hole of deceit and she’s inching further towards it.

‘You didn’t see Diane,’ he says simply. ‘So why did you lie?’

She finds her mouth opening and closing pointlessly.

‘You see, I lied too, Frankie. I haven’t spoken to her today and I know you haven’t because I went to your office – where you told me you’d be.’ He gives her a look. ‘And Diane’s assistant was there. Diane was a guest today at a colleague’s wedding, so I think it’s unlikely that she’d be having meetings with you, don’t you think?’ He raises an eyebrow.

Frankie finds her throat constricting involuntarily. It makes an odd, frightened sound.

He falters, choosing his words carefully.

‘So. Where were you?’

Her heart contracts. His mouth is working awkwardly as though he might cry.

‘What’s going on? Although I don’t know why I keep asking,’ he rubs his forehead aggressively, ‘because nothing’s going on, is it? There’s no kind of relationship here. Certainly not with me, anyway. Even when you’re here you’re not. You’re always somewhere else: physically and mentally. Just tell me: do I know him?’

‘What? No! No, Alex… No!’ She desperately clutches at his arm.

‘Who’s this Jack?’

She thinks her heart might have stopped.

‘Alex.’

But he closes his eyes and holds up both hands.

‘No. You know what, Frankie? Don’t tell me. I can’t bear to hear any more of it. Every time you open your mouth, I don’t know if it’s the truth. Every time you make a promise, you break it. You can’t even ring me when you say you will. All I know for sure is, I’m not first on your list, Frankie. I barely even make the top ten.’

‘Alex, please—’

‘Look, Frankie, I know I’m not very exciting—’

‘No. Stop.’

‘But I can’t lose you.’ His eyes glisten with tears. ‘I just can’t.’

‘Stop this, Alex… don’t… You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not having an affair. I’m really, really not.’ She shakes her head in frustration.

He rubs his nose with the back of his hand and looks at her with reddened eyes.

‘I feel as though you are so far away from me, Frankie. I miss you, don’t you get that? Just tell me the truth. If it is another man, I can deal with it.’ He grabs her hand and holds on, tightly. ‘Let me in, Frankie. Just tell me the truth. Please.’

The doorbell rings and they both snap round.

Alex lets go of her hand and roughly scrubs at his face. ‘Oh, hell. Look… After he’s gone this evening, yeah? After he’s gone we’ll sit down, you and I and you’ll tell me everything? And I mean everything. However horrific it is, I’ll handle it. Will you do that Frankie? If nothing else, I just need to know what’s going on.’

She finds herself nodding, clutching the towel as though it’s some kind of lifeline. She hears Alex clattering down the stairs and clumping his way to the front door. Then there are voices – Martin and Alex. They are talking as though all this is ordinary and normal. In a very short while, she will have to walk down those stairs and join them. They are going to share a meal together, drink wine, talk about all kinds of stuff as though what’s happening isn’t really happening. And then later, much later, she’s going to have to tell Alex that the whole of their married life has been a façade, a theatre production, a betrayal of the absolute worst sort – and she also knows, right that moment too, that Alex is never going to forgive her.

Slowly, very slowly, she gets out of the bath and puts on a dressing gown and walks into the bedroom to dry her hair and apply her make-up. She selects the right clothes from her wardrobe and pulls them on. Standing in front of the mirror, she smooths her top down over her stomach and tucks her hair behind her ears before walking quietly to the top of the stairs and treading her way down, listening to the footfall and creak of every step. It feels more like approaching an execution than a dinner party. She puts her hand to her throat, instinctively feeling for the necklace that is no longer there, listening to the rise and fall of voices. The hallway feels like it’s closing in on her: there’s no way out, and no way back. She puts one hand on the kitchen door. She knows she’s just about to face the absolute and bitter end.

Chapter Twenty-Six

‘How about some port? Yeah, why not? Frankie, could you get some glasses?’

Alex slews his chair back and stands unsteadily.

There’s a terror at the thought of him leaving her alone with Martin and she finds she’s on her feet far too quickly. They both turn to look at her.

‘She’s keen.’ Alex winks, grinning. ‘I