Page 188 of The Secret We Keep
We’ve said our sorrys and our I love yous a million times over, but face to face with my dad, I feel the need to say it to him again.
“No. We made things worse, thinking we were doing right by you.” He kisses my head, arms constricting around me and Mum. “Not anymore. We follow your lead.”
I look up and catch him nodding at Paddy. The discussions they must have had in my absence… I can only imagine how painful and gruelling they might have been.
“We’ll get through this together,” Jerry says, and I spin my head to look at him.
“Do you mean that, Jer?” I ask him, because what we once had as kids has long gone, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get to know my brother better as adults.
My dad loosens his hold but remains close as Jerry steps towards us.
“I’ve been a shit.”
Dad coughs, muttering under his breath.
“Alright,” Jerry strains, “anuttershit.” He steps closer, limiting the space between us. “I’ve been a prick, but I’m hoping you can forgive me, Morgan. I was just scared.”
“He was, curly fries,” Paddy says against my ear, slipping his hand in the one I hadn’t realised I’d curled tight. “Even wet himself a little when we got the call that you were coming home.”
My hand covers my smile.
“I didn’t piss myself,” Jerry replies, his body sagging. “I spilt my drink when Mum screamed.”
“He’s lying,” Paddy whispers, and Jerry goes to turn around, blowing out a forlorn breath.
I reach out and take his hand, pulling him back to me. My arms envelop him, and eventually, he slowly wraps me up, giving me a hug worthy of big brother status.
“Welcome home,” he says tenderly.
I pull away and smile up at him, seeing the graveyard in the corner of my eye. Waiting for me. “Missed you, Jer,” I tell him honestly, not just meaning in the past few months.
“Me too.”
Once I’ve said hello to Paddy’s family, minus Kevin, Paddy hands me some fresh flowers and walks me to the graveyard where he found me. I know how terrifying that must have been for him, but I can’t remember a single moment of it. He’s told me the story twice, but nothing comes to me. No image of me driving the car. No recollection of making my way up the road. No flashback of lying down by her grave and crying the first tears I had in years because I’d just learned that my best friend wasn’t actually here with me.
Taking a deep breath, we walk through the gate, my feet grinding to a halt when I see two people standing, looking down at Holly’s headstone. “Did you know they were coming?” My heart jackhammers behind my ribs. Any sense of composure I had leading up to this moment, leaves me in the blink of an eye.
“They didn’t reply when I invited them.”
My hands shake.
My legs begin to buckle.
However, I’m caught by the man who’s not going to let me go. “Steady,” he gently warns with some concern in his voice as he waits for me to find my feet. “Shall I go talk to them?”
Before he can move, I press my palm flat to his chest. “No. I can go.”
“Alone?” he asks uncertainly.
I nod back, seeing Christine looking over at us. Pete spins, wiping under his eye when he stares at me for the longest of moments.
“I’ll wait right here,” Paddy says.
Pulling my gaze off Paddy, he quickly kisses my cheek, and I make the slow walk along the path until I’m close enough to read the dates on Holly’s headstone.
The blank date from my diary three years ago.
Here lies Holly Danford.
