A Family Secret: No. 1 Bestseller of family drama

Danny gave a sorry little snort. ‘You mean when we had more hair on our heads, and naughty tattoos proudly across our chests and a woman on each arm?’ He sighed at the memories. ‘Now the girls have moved on, and the tattoos are sagging.’ His voice dropped as he added sombrely, ‘Just like everything else if you know what I mean?’

‘Oh, but I do.’ John lapsed into silence. ‘I really am worried about the future,’ he admitted eventually.

‘How could we have been so stupid? We should have made plans for our old age. We’ve been enjoying ourselves too much, that’s why!’

‘We’ve only ourselves to blame. We’ve never earned much but what we had we spent. Still, what’s done is done and we can’t ever turn the clock back. It’s no use grumbling about it! Instead, we should be thanking our lucky stars that we’ve been able to enjoy life and still be as healthy as we are. Look on the bright side, we’ve got good jobs and a regular wage. And though we’ve left it a bit late we are now, at last, starting to think about the future.’

‘Not every working man is as fortunate as us. Look at poor Len Waterman. He’s a year or two younger than us, but he’s so crippled with arthritis he can hardly get along. Fate can be so cruel. If he hadn’t fallen off that roof, he might have been working alongside us even yet. But he seems to get worse as the days pass. More’s the pity.’

‘But by God, don’t the years just fly by. Even when we were in our forties we had enough knowledge to start our own business. We should have taken the bull by the horns back then,’ John said quietly. ‘You’re right, Danny Boy. We’ll just have to concentrate on what we’ve actually achieved and not dwell on what we’ve lost. Who knows, we might yet give another thought to the idea of setting up in our own business? We can make a success of it if that’s what we aim for. ’

Both men felt uplifted to have discussed most of the matters that had been weighing heavily on their minds. They squared their shoulders and put a spring in their step as they continued along the Promenade, ready and raring to set about the day’s workload.

Taking a grubby old handkerchief from his trouser pocket, John slapped it across his nose and blew hard. ‘Dammit, I reckon I’ve got a cold coming on.’ He moaned under his breath, before blowing his nose again. ‘Look there! Do you see that tired old woman across the way? Poor old bugger, she’s been lumbered with that huge bag … no doubt filled to the brim with kids’ stuff, all dumped on her by her family. Really struggling she is.’

Danny stole a glance at the woman. ‘Bless her old heart. I’m sorely tempted to go and help her. She looks well and truly done in, so she does.’

John produced from his overalls pocket a piece of paper on which was scrawled a list of tasks for the week, some already crossed off. ‘Come on, matey! We’d best crack on. No time for rescuing damsels in distress, and look her family are catching her now. I wouldn’t mind betting she’s got a little dram o’whisky hidden inside that bag. The crafty old devil.’ He gave a deep-throated chuckle, before waving the list under Danny’s nose. ‘I expect you’ll want to start on her first?’ He gestured in the direction of the Blue Bench. ‘She’s looking a bit weathered of late, don’t you think?’ John strode on, clutching his list and grumbling as he went to his own tasks, leaving the bench to Danny.

He paused to admire her, ‘She’s like an old friend,’ he murmured, ‘this place would never be the same without her. And you’re right … she does seem to be looking a bit worse for wear, but you can’t blame the old girl for looking worn out. Not when she’s facing the elements twenty-four hours a day, year in year out.’ He chuckled loudly, ‘In some ways, she’s a bit like us, don’t you think? Forging onwards, whatever the weather throws at us, and just like her, we’ve learned to stand strong against the elements. I’d love to know what her story is.’

When Danny looked up at the Blue Bench, his ready smile faltered and his heart seemed to flip over. It couldn’t be … Surely not! The lovely Marie Foster sitting on the bench – alone.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_3d2d682c-a700-51c5-8c3c-c3e5349a2bd2)

MARIE HAD ARRIVED at the Blue Bench very early this morning. After she’d received Eileen’s note she decided to skip breakfast at the hotel in case she bumped into Eileen and Tony in the dining room. Instead, she’d bought a cup of tea at a seafront stall and would have enjoyed the stroll along the Promenade had it not been for her nervousness.

Why had she put off suggesting this meeting all these years? The longer she’d left it, the harder it had become to make this move. Even now she was halfway to thinking she’d just scarper and forget all about it, especially as Eileen’s note didn’t have what you might call a friendly tone.

Tony has agreed to meet you so I suppose I had better come along, too. I don’t know what your game is, Marie, but don’t you dare ever, ever tell him our secret.

Well, that left no room for doubt.

And just what was her ‘game’, Marie asked herself as she sat down on the Blue Bench, clutching her tea tightly. What on earth had possessed her to come to Blackpool by herself, hoping to be reconciled with Eileen and Tony and to share with them an important part of her life? Her conscience had troubled her for years and she wanted to be free of that burden now, while she was still physically and mentally able. But what had seemed like a sound idea at home – to meet Eileen and Tony in Blackpool while they were relaxed on their holiday, a place they had shared so much laughter, so many good memories – now seemed fraught with potential disaster. Should she just go now – get up and leave and pretend to herself she’d never sought this meeting? Her life-long demon was even now sitting on her shoulder, whispering in her ear that this whole stupid plan was doomed from the start.

But that demon had always led her by the nose, and now, twenty years after Derek’s death, she owed it to her family to shrug it off and be a better person.

Derek – every day it was hard to believe he’d been gone for so many years. Dead of a heart attack and only in his forties. So Marie had lived on without him, though she still had Anne, and her lovely husband, Dave … and of course Cathy, that dear girl. Cathy, the light of their lives, an unlooked-for joy, was now on the brink of womanhood, and Marie owed it to her – to all of them – to reveal the truth at last. What if she herself were to die suddenly, as Derek had done, and never tell what it was her duty – her duty, not Anne or Dave’s – to tell? How would Cathy think of her then?

Marie could still picture Eileen’s face that night, they’d been sitting at the same kitchen table they’d sat and talked over for years. When it became clear to Marie that Eileen had discovered their one night together, she felt she had to confess all. But in that moment, fearful that Eileen and Tony might want to claim her baby as their own, she told the most awful, shameful lie. It had been a wicked thing to say and she’d regretted it every moment.

And now, she felt she needed to go back to the beginning, where it all started. She looked out over the Promenade to where the gentle waves washed the beach. Already there were families set up on the sand, colourful towels laid out, deck chairs in clusters, brightly striped windbreaks – more for privacy than to keep any breeze at bay on this glorious morning – and, as always in summer, the piping voices of excited children.

Marie was immediately transported back to the long-ago holidays here with Derek and Anne, such happy holidays when Tony and Eileen had been dear friends. Then there had been the war, of course, when seaside holidays were not possible, and then afterwards … after Derek had died … everything had changed. There had been other trips, but more often to Southport rather than Blackpool. Marie had not wanted to risk bumping into Tony and Eileen. Little Cathy had loved those holidays. Three generations playing on the beach together – that’s what anyone watching the little family would have seen.

Could she live the lie any longer? It wasn’t hurting anyone, was it, it just weighed heavier on her shoulders every year. Wise women say secrets would out, and Marie knew she must try hard to gather her courage, to do what in her heart she knew was right, before it was too late.

A lyrical voice she vaguely knew came at her from a few yards down the Promenade.

‘And a beautiful day it is, too, for a picnic on the Blue Bench.’

Marie looked to her left and there … Good heavens, after all this time! The man with the Irish lilt was none other than Danny Magee.

‘Danny! It really is you! What a marvellous surprise.’ And indeed his appearance, as she once again deliberated, was very welcome. She stood and found herself hugging him with delight.

‘Marie, ye’re a sight for sore eyes on this fine morning. I’d quite given up on ever seeing my best girl again. It’s been some good years since ye last graced these parts with yer beauty. And ye don’t look a day older than when we last met.’

Still the same old Danny, a charmer with a touch of the blarney.

Marie laughed and stood back to survey him properly. He was so recognisably the same and yet, of course, older – thinner, greyer … balder, with deeper laughter lines around those blue, blue eyes. Yes, he looked worn, like a man who had lived.

‘You’re looking good yourself,’ she said, and realised that there was at least some element of truth in that. ‘It’s so lovely to see you.’

‘Derek and Anne not with ye?’ he asked.

Marie gathered herself, as she had done for the last twenty years whenever anyone had asked about Derek.

‘Let’s sit down – if you’ve got a minute? – and I’ll tell you all my news,’ she said, summoning a smile and patting the bench beside her as she resumed her seat.

Well, it was hardly ‘all her news’, Marie reflected as she watched Danny walk away. She’d given him a much-edited version of the last twenty years, an account that actually held one very important lie.

She waved and smiled as he turned back and blew her a kiss. Off to his work, he’d said, and his maintenance of the Blue Bench could wait awhile as she was sitting on it. Such a kind man, though she knew he no doubt flirted with all the female visitors. It was a wonder he got any work done at all.

Danny, too, was thinking about the meeting. He’d felt what was almost a surge of joy when he’d clapped eyes on Marie, sitting there all alone, and though his heart had gone out to her as she related the sad event of her widowhood, he couldn’t help reflecting – and may the Good Lord forgive him – that now she was a free woman. Of course, she lived in Cheshire, but he’d really like to see her again if it were possible.

You’re a silly old fool, so ye are, he chastised himself. If she only knew what ye were thinking no doubt she would run a mile in the opposite direction. And how is anything to come of ye wishing to know the darlin’ woman better anyway?

Still, he was ever the optimist, as evidenced by his love of a bet on the horses, and stranger things had happened than two lonely people getting together in their later years.

Danny had not been long gone about his business when Eileen and Tony appeared arm in arm. Marie recognised them at once – she had occasionally seen them around town at home – but she particularly noticed now how plump Tony had grown, his once-handsome face jowly and sagging, and how formidable Eileen looked despite the fashionable brightly coloured dress and curly hairdo.

‘Hello, Marie,’ said Eileen frostily.

‘Eileen … Tony.’ Marie stood and half went to hug them like in the old days, then thought better of it and retreated.

‘Shall we sit?’ said Tony with an apologetic smile at Marie, and Eileen immediately seated herself in the middle of the bench so that she would be between Tony and Marie.

There was an uncomfortable silence and Marie knew – just knew with all her heart – that this meeting had been a bad idea. How could she have thought to say what she had so foolishly planned? And out here, in the open air, when anyone passing would see them, might even hear? The air around them seemed crowded with happy memories of long-ago meetings at the Blue Bench, when fish and chips wrapped in newspaper were passed between them, or a bag of humbugs shared as jokes were told and plans for the following day made.

Don’t do it! whispered the demon on her shoulder, and this time her common sense was in agreement: better to test the water first. She took a deep breath and began.

‘I’m in Blackpool for a night or two and found myself staying in the same hotel as you. It seemed silly not to say hello.’

Tony smiled. ‘It’s good to see you again, Marie.’

Eileen said nothing.

Marie swallowed nervously. Oh Lord, this was not going well.