The Keeper of Secrets Read Online Free PDF

stopped him. ‘Hold on, what have you got there?’ Rick’s bloodshot eyes widened at the sight of the mud smeared box in the little boy’s equally grubby hands.
    â€˜It’s my buried treasure,’ Charlie replied looking up towards Elle for back up. ‘Isn’t it, Mum?’
    â€˜You haven’t got your dad’s key here, have you?’
    Elle put her hand in her pocket, the one that didn’t contain the letters, and pulled out the watch. She tried to concentrate on the look of excitement that lit up her son’s face rather than the glint in her husband’s eye as she handed it over.
    Charlie rushed into the living room and sat down on the floor. His fingers didn’t have quite the dexterity to turn the key in the lock.
    â€˜Here, give it to me,’ Rick said, reaching down to prise the box and key from his son. There was only the briefest tug of war. Rick was always going to win.
    The box was unlocked in seconds and it took fractionally longer than that for Rick to take a full inventory of its contents. He practically flung it back at his son. ‘Nothing but a load of crap,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe the old goat had nothing to leave you, Elle.’ He was looking around at the contents of Harry and Anne O’Brien’s lives that had been splayed out across the room. He kicked a box and his toe caught the corner of the tattered cardboard box that she had found in the bureau. The force of his kick tore through the cardboard allowing the contents to spill out onto the floor. ‘It’s going to cost a small fortune to get this place cleared. There’s nothing here worth selling so it’ll all end in the tip.’
    â€˜Hey, I’m keeping that box,’ Elle said.
    Rick ignored the collection of scattered photos which included one of their wedding day and pulled a porcelain figurine from the box. ‘Seriously? It’s full of rubbish.’
    Elle could feel her cheeks burning. The anger came out as a sob, much to her annoyance. ‘I don’t care if it is worthless. It’s not worthless to me. It’s all I have left.’
    Charlie rushed over to his mum, wrapping his arms around her waist. ‘You’ve still got me,’ he told her.
    His innocent assurances made her feel worse rather than better and she didn’t have the strength to fight her tears. She wanted to howl and the hand she put to her mouth barely held back her anguish. She was vaguely aware of Rick standing there, momentarily sideswiped by his wife’s outburst of emotion. Then he too hastened to her side. ‘You have both of us,’ he insisted. ‘And we’re going to be all the family you need.’

5
    It was Monday morning before Elle had any time to herself again. With Rick’s unexpected arrival at her dad’s house, there had been no way to conceal exactly how much progress she had made and it was quickly decided, by Rick naturally, that they all deserved a day of rest. They had been home by lunchtime.
    Elle would have to go back of course; the mountain of boxes and bags would need to be dropped off at various charity shops, recycling centres or, as Rick was eager to point out, dumped into the nearest skip. She had brought just one box of keepsakes home with her in the end, having been browbeaten into accepting that boxes full of china would only be left to gather dust at the back of their garage and that was no way to remember her parents. She had insisted on keeping the tattered box of childhood mementos however and when she had the time, she and Charlie would create memory boxes of their own.
    Being the diligent housewife and mother that Rick expected and demanded, she worked to a tight schedule and Monday was usually spent cleaning the house from top to bottom after a weekend of Rick and Charlie undoing all her hard work. The remainder of the week followed a similar routine of housework and shopping. She wasn’t