Love Is a Secret Read Online Free PDF Page A

still sleeping after finishing his A levels last month. He planned to wallow in post-traumatic sleep for an indefinite period of time, he’d informed his parents, during a rare sentence directed at them. Yes, he’d find a summer job (‘Stop nagging, Dad’) but not just yet.
    ‘Ready?’
    Georgie nodded as Caroline dabbed at the milk stain on her daughter’s previously pristine white T-shirt. ‘Run and clean your teeth, then.’
    ‘Did them before breakfast.’
    ‘Then you need to do them again.’
    ‘ Mum , there isn’t time.’
    She was right. But a good mother (a not-so-stressed mother?) would insist. ‘Upstairs now, pronto.’
    A quick flick round the sink with a grubby dishcloth. Dash upstairs to drop a kiss on comatose Ben’s cheek. Leave note for Mrs B, who was coming in, thank heavens, to sort out this mess. No time for the loo. Still a bit chilly today but not enough to wear tights. Besides, if she couldn’t go barelegged in August, when could she? And her longish skirt covered most of her legs anyway.
    Once upon a time, in another life, Roger had told her she had a great pair of legs . . .
    ‘Who are you playing today?’ she asked Georgie, as they walked briskly down Broomfield Road towards the station.
    ‘Greenway Seniors. We’re going to crucify them.’
    ‘ Georgie! I’ve told you before, that’s an inappropriate word.’
    ‘Sorry,’ said Georgie, happily. ‘But I’m a teenager. I’m allowed to say whatever I like. Ben says so.’
    ‘Well, I’m perimenopausal so maybe I can say what I like too.’
    Georgie gave her one of her ‘You’re crazy, Mum’ looks. ‘Periwhat?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    ‘You’re weird, Mum. There’s Kirsty. Got to go. See you tonight.’
    No kiss, and not even a wave when, five minutes later, Caroline was standing on the opposite platform where she could see her daughter chatting to her friends and steadily ignoring her. Her own train usually came first. Here it was. On time for a change.
    She picked up her briefcase and got in. The beauty of living at this end of the line was that there was usually a seat. She gazed at Georgie through the window and her daughter glanced up with the glimmer of a smile.
    ‘Be careful,’ Caroline mouthed through the glass. She still couldn’t help saying that to all of her children, even though, one by one, they were growing up and leaving. Be careful . It was like a mantra, a lifebelt in an uncertain world. So much might go wrong for them – they might be run over, bullied at school, pushed into drugs . . . find themselves without a father.
    Caroline opened her laptop and groaned. The screen had frozen. Resigned, she turned it off and rebooted. If only, she mused, as the train passed terraced houses, an empty playground and a parade of shops, it was possible to do the same for her marriage . . .
    An hour later, Caroline flashed her ID card at the security desk and got into the lift. Fourth floor. First set of swing doors on the left. Large open-plan office, studded with pale beech desks at which your knees virtually knocked your neighbour’s. Screens already on. Coffee-machine bubbling. Diana’s door firmly shut, which meant she was writing the Editor’s Letter.
    ‘Hi,’ said Zelda, spinning round on her chair. ‘Hope you got more sleep than I did. Aurora was up all bloody night. How the hell am I going to cope when number two arrives?’
    Caroline dumped her case by her desk and helped herself to a glass of water. ‘You’ll manage. Just don’t think too much about it in advance or you’ll panic.’
    ‘How did you cope with three?’
    She hadn’t – or what had happened wouldn’t have. She could have been a nice stay-at-home mum and concentrated on keeping her husband happy. ‘I think I’d have gone mad if I hadn’t worked. I needed something to think about apart from the children. But there are times, to be honest, when I feel it’s awfully selfish.’
    ‘Nice one.’
    ‘What?’
    Zelda was tapping away at