The Keeper of Secrets by Amanda Brooke Page B

statement of fact.
    â€˜And when your paths crossed again, you resumed your affair.’
    Corinne had taken a sip of coffee and took her time placing it back on the saucer. She dabbed her lips with a serviette. ‘We resumed our friendship,’ she said carefully. ‘And yes, it was a friendship that was secret from our respective spouses, but a friendship nonetheless. We both had families and your dad took his responsibilities seriously.’
    â€˜So he stayed with Mum, the woman who wasn’t too good for him, out of duty?’ Elle asked, the words catching at the back of her throat.
    â€˜Isn’t it possible that he loved us both?’
    Elle shook her head. As someone who struggled to love just one person, it was beyond her comprehension that someone could truly love two people at the same time. Not honourably, at least.
    â€˜The point is, he stayed. That was the path he chose. I, on the other hand, didn’t have quite the same sense of duty or honour. It was ironic, frustrating even that your dad always believed I was his better but I was the one who walked out on my marriage. I had married for all the wrong reasons. I was expected to fill the mould my parents had prepared for me and, at the time, I was happy to go along with their plans because I wanted to punish Harry for rejecting me. But I ended up wasting too much of my life with the wrong man. Even though it became clear that I couldn’t be with the one I loved, I couldn’t continue to live a lie.’
    â€˜But my dad could,’ Elle said flatly. ‘Did he get in touch after you sent him the sympathy card?’
    Corinne was busy tidying up the pile of envelopes, seemingly preoccupied. ‘I met your dad briefly a few months after your mum died.’ She was shaking her head. ‘He was inconsolable. He felt so guilty.’
    â€˜But you were both free, weren’t you?’ Elle challenged. ‘Why didn’t you make up for lost time?’
    Corinne seemed not to be listening. ‘He thought she’d burnt them all. Where did you find them?’
    â€˜My son found them buried in a box in the garden. Hold on a minute …
She
burnt them? Mum?’ Elle asked, not quite ready to let her mind process the information. Slowly the truth revealed itself like a slow-motion train wreck. ‘Oh my God. Mum found the box and she came to the same conclusion that I came to. Even if she had been aware of Dad’s earlier relationship with you, she would have seen the tickets. She would have known.’
    Ellie was desperate for Corinne to jump in and correct her assumptions, but her response was an almost imperceptible nod. ‘He tried to convince her that he had remained faithful but …’
    â€˜But you don’t have to have sex to break your marriage vows,’ Elle finished for her.
    In the silence that followed, she scrutinized the old lady’s face. There was something Corinne wasn’t telling her.
    â€˜I don’t remember them falling out. When was this?’ Elle asked, but then didn’t wait for the answer. She had worked it out for herself. ‘If my dad thought the letters had been burned then it could only have been mum who buried them in the garden. Despite everything, she still loved him. She couldn’t destroy something that he cared so deeply about. Charlie was just four years old when she died. If he can remember her burying the box then it must have been shortly before she had the stroke …’ She pushed herself back hard against the sofa, as far away from the letters as she could possibly manage. ‘That was why she died. Those bits of paper are what killed her.’
    â€˜Harry was wracked with guilt, Elle. He blamed himself and it destroyed him. He could barely face me.’
    Elle stood up so quickly she jarred her shin against the table. ‘I have to go.’
    Without a backward glance she made her way through the restaurant and was still