Page 99 of Never Tell Secrets

Thirty-One

Iloved aeroplanes. When Alfie and I had first met, he’d been astounded that I’d never been on a plane before but in the last two years, I’d travelled by plane twice. The first time to Ireland when Natalie took Ryan home to visit her Mother, and the second time to Greece to check out Keira’s parents place.

While other passengers looked nauseous and nervous, my toes tapped in excitement. Adventure. I loved adventure. I loved that these metal machines could transport me to anywhere in the world I wanted to go to.

We zoomed out of Heathrow airport and four hours later, we landed in Corfu. Keira, Maia and I took a collective breath as we left the London gloom behind and stepped into the bright grecian sun.

We stood outside the airport, the three of us hustling into a small stretch of shade. “So, your parents are meeting us here?” Maia asked, she spoke so rarely it always startled me.

“Yeah, Dad said he was picking us up.” Keira checked her phone but from the way her teeth gnawed on her bottom lip I could tell there was no message from her Dad. We were late landing, he should be here already.

I leaned my luggage against the wall and sat on it, uncapped my water bottle and took a long sip. Keira’s parents weren’t known for their time-keeping skills so I was settling in for a long wait.

Two hours later, my water bottle was empty and our patience was thin. Keira stood, spine rigid and arms folded, the cloud of tension around her growing with every passing minute.

“Are you sure you gave him the right flight information?” Maia asked for the second time and I winced.

“She already said she did,” I said gently before Keira could bite her head off. Maia seemed to get the hint.

“Maybe he’s just stuck in traffic,” she suggested.

I stood and slipped my hand into Keira’s. “Maybe we need to get a taxi.”

She wouldn’t look at me, her eyes were fixed on the road waiting for a car that we both knew wasn’t coming. Her parents had forgotten about her. Again. In front of an audience it hurt twice as much as usual.

“I guess so.” Grabbing her bag she stormed towards the small collection of taxis. I hurried after her, catching up and slipping my hand into hers again. She squeezed it and I squeezed back.

The taxi was claustrophobic, music blared over the speakers and the heat was oppressive, even in October. Last time I’d been in Greece it had been August and the heat had boiled my Irish/English blood.

We rode in silence, the driver chatting with Maia as he wound us expertly through the busy streets. Keira’s parents' property was situated along the coastline, their home and the small villa they rented out were nestled safely in a private bay.

The further we drove, the quieter it got until the ocean came into view. I cried the first time I saw it. I’d never seen the ocean in person before, never felt the sand under my feet. It had been incredible but not having Alfie there to experience it with me forthe first time had hurt. I wondered what it would be like to lay with him on the beach, to swim with him in the ocean.

I felt Keira’s grip on my hand tighten as her parents' house came into view. A large white wash property with pacific blue shutters situated right on the cliff edge with nothing but ocean beyond.

“We can go stay in a hotel, if you’d rather.”

“Yeah? You wanna hit Moneybags up for the hotel bill? It’s not like we can afford it.” She gave me a wry smile. “I’ll be fine.” She cleansed her face of any hurt, a routine I’d seen a thousand times growing up together, and stepped out of the car. Maia paid the driver and together, the three of us stood outside the house as the taxi left us in its dust.

Keira stared up at the house, the gentle lapping of the ocean and a faint bird call were the only things daring to break her silence.

“We should probably ring the doorbell at some point,” I murmured, nudging her.

“I’m working on it.” She took a breath and stepped to the door, only to have it flung open to reveal Laura Larson standing on the other side, an apron around her waist and a light cotton dress on her tan skin.

“Keira! We were expecting you tomorrow!”

“Flight came in today, mum,” Keira said, her voice a little stiff.

“No, tomorrow,” her mum frowned, “you said Friday.”

“I said Thursday.”

“No, Friday.” She folded her arms. “Unless you’re implying that I just left you at the airport on purpose, is that what you’re saying?” Laura Larson eyed her daughter, a stern expression on her face. I waited, hoping as I always did that my friend would finally stand up for herself.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s my mistake.”

I wasn’t sure who Keira’s apology hurt more, me or her.