Page 42 of Never Tell Secrets

“Hooked up?” Ada exclaimed, her eyes bright with amusement. She turned to Elliot. “Love, did you hear that? We’re hooking up!”

“I don’t know that I call having my ear bent for all these years ‘hooking up.’” He gave her a dry look that was somehow full of a deep love.

“You’ve loved every minute of it.” She gave him a warm smile before looking back at me. “Yes, dear. That’s how we met.” She opened the oven and a familiar smell hit my nose. A moment later, a fresh, warm blueberry muffin sat in front of me. “I’ve been told it’s your favourite.” I took a bite. It was delicious and somehow familiar. I bit my lip, suddenly homesick. “Something wrong?”

“No.” I cleared my face but she eyed me closely.

“It’s been a while since someone has taken care of you, I imagine.” I raised my brows at her astute observation. “You forget, I’ve known Alfie a long time. I’m a pro at recognising which masks hide which pains.” She smiled and patted my arm. She sat next to Elliot, sipping her tea. Maybe I was just so used to dealing with Alfie overstepping my personal boundaries, but Ada’s invasive intuitiveness was easier to overlook than it might once have been. I popped another mouthful of muffin into my mouth, resolving to keep my guard up around Ada from now on.

Elliot rested a hand over hers and I flinched for a moment, remembering what those hands had done. I pictured Adam, lying on his bathroom floor, neck broken. Now those same hands were being gentle, tender. I couldn’t match the two men together and I decided not to try. I decided to move the hell on.

“What was Alfie like as a child?” I asked, and Elliot gave Ada a small smile.

“I told you she would pepper you with questions.”

“And I told you and Alfie I would answer them.” She turned back to me. “What was he like as a child? Before his wretched family wrung all the sweetness out of him you mean? He was trouble.” She smiled, warm memories crossing her face as she sipped her tea. “He had a lot of imagination, loved to play pranks and make up stories. Knights and ogres, that sort of thing. He was always making me mud pies but his mother didn’t approve. I was let go when he was sent to boarding school at six but they had me come back whenever he was home from school. Each time, he was a little more distant. By ten he was…stoic.”

“Stoic?” I asked.

“Stoic,” she repeated. “Disconnected. By sixteen he was cold, manipulative, and that was the last summer that I saw him. I thought he’d killed that little boy off, but then he took over his father’s company and I got a call out of the blue to run this place. He pretended it was just for convenience’s sake, nothing to do with caring about me, it was just easier to hire someone he already knew. But I knew that was absolute horseshit.” Elliot choked on his tea at her language. “During those years where I didn’t see him, I was convinced I had a guardian angel. If I couldn’t make rent, it miraculously got paid. If my car died on me, a new one appeared the next morning. It didn’t take me long to realise he was the one looking out for me. Alfie will never admit it, but that little boy isn’t dead, just buried deep.”

“Love,” Elliot said in a warning tone but Ada just waved him off.

“I’m not going to guilt her into anything, but if you ever get the opportunity, Lola, wring his mother’s scrawny neck for me, will you?”

“Sure.” I grinned. I liked Ada. I liked her a lot.

“Good! Now, some house rules. If you’d like to eat anything specific while you’re here you just let me know. I’m here to makeyour life easier, but I’m not here to pick up after you. I expect you to?—”

“I don’t need a lecture.” I cut her off with an easy smile. “I know how to clean up after myself.” I popped another morsel of muffin into my mouth and she gave me an approving smile.

“Well, Miss, would you like me to drive you home after breakfast?” Elliot asked.

“Or I can give you a tour of the house?” Ada offered. Elliot gave her a look and she rolled her eyes at him.

“I’ll be careful.” She caught my curious gaze. “There are some rooms that aren’t my place to show you. Speaking of which, do you like yours? I don’t think I’ve ever seen my boy so tied in a knot.”

“It’s lovely. Did he really do it by himself?”

“He had decorators put it together. Lord, the mess. But he designed it alone, yes.”

“What about the rest of the house? Who designed that?”

“It came this way.” She paused. “Awful, isn’t it?”

“So awful.” I grinned again. She smiled back and we lapsed into easy conversation but I couldn’t help but wonder why Alfie had hired her to take care of a house that had been empty for the last twelve years. What was the point? Somewhere, deep inside, I knew that I wasn’t done excavating Alfie Tell.

An hour later, I’d seen almost every room in the house. To say I was overwhelmed was an understatement. I followed Ada down a hallway, which, like all the others, had those same black squares lining the walls, as she showed me each room, one at a time. A sitting room, an office, another sitting room, a gym, itwas endless. I frowned when she bypassed one particular door entirely.

“What’s this room?” I tried the handle, finding it locked.

“I’m not permitted to show you in there, I’m afraid.”

“That’s alright, I’m used to Alfie shutting doors in my face. What about this one?” I moved onto the next door and stepped inside, finding myself in a circular library. I looked up, turning in a circle, overwhelmed by the mass of volumes. “Question. Why does Alfie need a house this big when you said he was only here a few weeks out of the year?”

“He doesn’t need it, dear, but this style of living is what is expected of him. If he lived in a one bedroom apartment, questions would be asked. Now, come along, the tour is almost—Oh!” She cut off and I turned, my heart sputtering as I found Alfie standing in the doorway, watching us, his steel grey gaze fixed on me.

“Found you.”