Название: My Sister’s Secret
Автор: Tracy Buchanan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9780007579402
isbn:
‘Thank you so much for coming, Charity,’ Dan said. ‘I know Lana will be very pleased.’ There was the sound of heels clicking along the marble floor outside. ‘Ah, speak of the devil.’ Dan leant forwards, lowering his voice. He was so close, she could smell the black cherry scent of the wine on his breath. Behind him was a mural of a man’s blond head dipped in between the legs of a woman, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Charity felt her face flush hot. ‘I’m not expecting you to do a psychological profile,’ he said. ‘But maybe you can give me some advice on how I might be able to help her?’
‘But I didn’t say I would, Dan. Really, I—’
The door swung open and the overwhelming scent of musky perfume wafted in as Lana stepped into the room. She was wearing a short red V-neck dress with huge shoulder pads that engulfed her tiny frame. It was more suited to a society party than dinner. She blew Dan a kiss then quickly strode down the room and took the chair across from Charity’s, leaning over the table and taking her hand. Her glossy curve of caramel hair covered Bambi-like eyes. She licked her bee-stung lips nervously. Charity noticed her hand was trembling.
‘Thank you so much, Charity, you were so lovely the other morning,’ she said, her words almost tripping over one another, her navy blue eyes bright.
‘It’s fine, I’m pleased I was there to help you. How are you feeling?’
‘Oh fine,’ she said, sweeping her hand through the air. ‘Back to my old self.’
The truth was, beneath the glossy veneer were telltale signs all was not entirely well. Lana’s movements were erratic and jittery; she was incredibly thin, even thinner than she’d been in the photos Charity had seen of her in the papers; the purple bruises under her eyes suggested problems sleeping; and, though immaculate from the front, her hair was all matted at the back. There was also a large stain on the hem of her dress and bruises down her legs.
Dan stared at his wife’s matted hair then he looked imploringly at Charity.
Lana glanced at Charity’s glass of wine and smiled. ‘It’s delicious, isn’t it? We got it from this wonderful vineyard in Umbria last year. Did you know the rate of divorce is at its lowest in that part of Italy? They say it’s down to the Umbrian “super” wine, as they call it. It makes couples crave each other.’ Lana looked into Dan’s eyes. ‘I can confirm it’s not just an urban myth.’
Charity took another gulp of wine, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.
Lana peered towards the door. ‘Is Niall in the bathroom?’
Charity spluttered on her wine. ‘Niall?’
‘Lana managed to find him in the end,’ Dan explained. ‘He’s been staying just out of town.’
‘He’s coming to dinner?’ Charity asked, struggling to get her words out. Dan nodded.
‘Didn’t you both come together?’ Lana asked Charity, a confused look on her face.
Charity shook her head. She should never have come. She looked towards the door. She ought to make her excuses and leave right now. What would Hope say? What would the whole town say?
Dan frowned as he looked at Charity’s face. ‘Have we put our foot in it by inviting him?’
Charity didn’t know what to say.
‘But the way he looked at you the other day,’ Lana said, looking at Charity. ‘I really thought you were together.’
‘We weren’t together,’ Charity said, peering at the door to the dining room, imagining Niall walking in any minute. What would she say to him? ‘We haven’t been in touch for years,’ she added, trying to compose her face.
‘Oh well,’ Lana said, reaching for the bottle of wine and sloshing more into her glass. ‘It’ll be good for you to catch up then, won’t it?’
Dan looked at his wife, an exasperated expression on his face.
‘So what’s the deal with you two, anyway?’ Lana asked, scrutinising Charity’s face. She smiled. ‘Oh look, she’s blushing!’
Dan put his hand on his wife’s arm. ‘Darling…’
‘Were you childhood sweethearts?’ Lana continued, ignoring him.
The door clicked open and Niall stepped in, a bike helmet under his arm. So Niall was riding a motorbike nowadays.
His eyes rested of Charity, a frown appearing on his face.
Dan rose from his seat, shooting Charity a concerned look before composing his face and smiling. ‘Please, do come in, Niall.’ He walked around the table and pulled out the seat next to Charity. As Niall walked behind her, Charity looked down at the table, trying to control her thumping heart.
He sat next to her, the scent of him making her think of the sea and the summer evenings they used to spend together on the beach.
She curled her hands into fists. Damn it, why had she come?
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were coming,’ he said quietly.
‘I didn’t realise you were.’
His frown deepened. She took the chance to properly look at him. He was wearing black jeans and a grey t-shirt, his cheeks flushed from the cold. The long black hair she’d once so loved was now shaved close to his head. There were fine lines around his eyes that weren’t there ten years before and a small scar across his chin. She wondered if that had happened in prison, and her stomach twisted with nausea at the thought.
There were new tattoos entwining his arms too, black warped clock faces and gothic anchors, even a whole tree stretching up the olive skin of his right arm. And then that tattoo etched onto the side of his neck, the same tattoo she had on the small of her back, a black cresting wave beneath a blue moon. As she stared at it, she could almost feel the needle burning into her skin.
He caught her eye and a host of emotions seemed to run over his face.
Niall shifted uncomfortably.
She could pretend to be ill and leave, couldn’t she? Say the wine had been too rich, that her tummy was fragile. What would it matter? She didn’t have to see any of them again.
Dan looked from Charity to Niall and took a deep breath. He could definitely sense the atmosphere. ‘What can I get you to drink, Niall?’ he asked.
‘Do you have beer?’
‘Of course.’
Niall looked around him, brow furrowing as he finally noticed the explicit murals on the walls.
‘Oh, do you like them?’ Lana asked, twisting around in her chair, one thin arm elegantly draped across the back of Dan’s chair. ‘I had them done when we moved in. They’re wonderful, aren’t they?’
‘They’re СКАЧАТЬ