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

a crime I didn’t commit. Please, Frankie. You owe me that much.’ He doesn’t drop his gaze. She’s scared that if she lifts her eyes—

There’s the sound of footsteps on the stairs and she instantly gets up to fetch the glasses as Alex walks back into the room.

Martin stands suddenly. ‘It’s getting late.’

‘Hey, hey… We were just about to get started on the port! Hold on, hold on… You two not had a tiff, have you?’

Frankie glances quickly over at Alex. He’s far drunker than she thought.

Martin looks instantly embarrassed. ‘Thanks so much for dinner. It was really great, really delicious.’

‘It’s the only thing I’m proficient at now.’ Alex laughs but there’s no humour in it. ‘Must be all the practice.’

Martin goes to make a move towards the door, but Alex stumbles into his path. Frankie can’t tell whether it’s accidental or deliberate.

‘You must come round again, mate.’ Alex grips his hand and grabs him by the shoulder. ‘Oops!’ He staggers a little and giggles like a little boy. She almost can’t bear to watch.

‘You’ll see him out, won’t you, Frank? You’ll like that. See y’mate!’ He swipes the port bottle from the table and starts clattering about with the glasses.

She gestures for Martin to go ahead of her into the hallway.

‘Thank you for coming. It was nice to meet you.’

She is acutely aware of his physical presence as he walks past her, fixing her eyes to the floor as he makes his way to the front door.

He goes to turn the lock but struggles.

‘Here, let me.’ She reaches forward and their fingers brush. A crackle of static fizzes between them and she snatches her hand away, opening the door and stepping back into the safety of the hallway.

‘’Night then.’

‘Frankie.’

‘No, Martin.’

‘You can’t keep pretending.’

‘Just go.’

‘Here—’ He dips into his pocket and pulls out a bit of paper which he pushes into her hand. She instantly drops it.

‘Please,’ he says again. ‘We need to—’

But she’s already closing the door, aware of him getting smaller and smaller in the gap. The catch clicks, but her fingers won’t let go. His shadow looms through the glass. Her whole being yearns to open it again, but she won’t allow herself. Flicking off the light, the hallway is plunged into darkness. He’s gone, her heart thuds, she doesn’t want him back.

Turning sharply, she walks quickly into the kitchen where Alex is standing with his back against the dresser. It’s not port he’s drinking, it’s whisky.

‘Well, that was nice.’

The fumes of alcohol waft towards her.

‘Yes, it was. Shall I load the dishwasher?’

She can feel his eyes on her as she crosses the room.

‘Go on. You’re going to tell me.’

She has her back to him. She daren’t turn round.

‘You might as well. Nothing can be more painful than what you’re putting me through now. Nothing.’

She pauses for a second, shoulders hunched. She would love to beg for a few more minutes before she tears her whole world apart. How she’d love to go back and rewind the clock to just a few weeks ago when the past was just a nightmare at the back of her mind.

‘You’d better sit down.’ She turns to face him.

‘That bad, is it?’ He cradles the glass against his chest. ‘No thanks, I’ll stand and take it like a man.’ He grimaces unpleasantly. ‘So. You were telling me. You’re having an affair with…?’ He waves the glass.

She almost laughs. ‘If only it were as simple as that.’

Alex narrows his eyes and purses his lips. He watches her silently.

She takes a deep breath.

‘I know Martin.’

His face goes very still.

‘I knew Martin when I was a kid – when I was seventeen. He was a voluntary worker at the care home where I was living. I – We…’

Alex’s face falls. ‘But you said you were a kid, Frankie! He must’ve been… what? Early twenties?’

‘We got involved.’

‘Involved,’ Alex says sullenly.

‘I got pregnant.’

The room is silent.

‘At the same time that he was arrested for the rape and murder of a girl.’

He closes his eyes in disbelief and sways slightly.

‘It was my evidence that got him convicted. What I saw that night.’

‘What you…? Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie.’ Alex rakes a hand through his hair and looks at her. He suddenly appears completely sober. He stares down into the rim of his glass. His eyes are bloodshot and full of agony.

‘And the notes? Who sent those?’

‘I thought it was him.’

‘But you told the police and me that it was someone called Matthew Jarrow.’

‘Yes.’ She can’t look at him.

The silence grows thicker. ‘So that was a lie. That was a lie to protect Martin.’

‘Yes.’

‘Because you have feelings for him, is that it?’

‘No!’ Her head snaps up to look at him. His eyes are full of terrible, terrible pain.

‘So why didn’t you tell me any of this?’ He tries to stop his voice cracking.

‘Because of what I did.’

He frowns in query.

‘I left the baby.’

There’s a moment where he can’t speak. ‘You left the baby? What do you mean, you left the baby? Where? How? Who with?’

Frankie shifts uncomfortably. ‘It wasn’t that straightforward.’ She tucks her hands behind her thighs to stop them shaking. ‘I left her with some people. I thought they were good people. I was a child, Alex. I didn’t feel as though I had any choice.’

He struggles to get the words out. ‘People? What people? But you were in care, Frankie… there would have been adoption. There was fostering. There’s a whole raft of support services…’

She hangs her head. ‘I left the baby with the girl’s parents.’

‘The girl?’

‘The girl that died. The girl that was murdered.’

It’s as though someone else is speaking. She cannot be saying these things. The words don’t have any meaning.

Nothing moves. She can’t lift her head. She almost dare not breathe.

‘I didn’t feel I had a choice,’ she mumbles.

‘Yes, so you keep saying, but of course you had a choice.’ Alex’s voice goes up an octave. ‘You had choices, and you made a decision.’

He’s angry, really angry. She can’t tell him about the