almost as if staring would somehow coax something out of her.
‘Why haven’t you said anything before? You seemed fine with me being here, so…’
‘Well, I was thinking about things, that’s all,’ Reece continued, walking over to the mirror, picking up his jacket that was slung over the back of the sofa on the way, slipping it on before running his hands through his hair. ‘You’ve been a little pre-occupied, ever since I made that flying visit to L.A.’ He turned around to look at her again, putting his hands back in his pockets. ‘Ever since India came to see you, in Malibu.’
‘I… I don’t understand. I’ve been fine, I haven’t been preoccupied, Reece. I haven’t…’
‘Well, I think you have.’ He moved forward a couple of steps, keeping his eyes on her all the time. ‘She talked to you, didn’t she?’
‘You know she came over for a chat. She needed to talk, there’s nothing unusual in that.’
‘No, there isn’t. It’s just that, this time, I think she told you something that she’s never told me. Am I right?’
Martha didn’t know what to do. She’d promised India she wouldn’t tell her father any of what she’d disclosed, but it was more than obvious that Reece had his suspicions, and Martha wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it from him.
‘She needed to get a lot of things off her chest, sweetheart. She was very emotional…’
‘I’m well aware of the state she was in at the time, Martha. I’m also well aware that there was a lot going on in her head, but what concerns me is that you now know something that I’m still being kept ignorant of. And that worries me.’
Martha looked up at the ceiling for a second, closing her eyes and swallowing hard. ‘I promised her, Reece.’
‘Promised her what? Martha, what did you promise her?’
Reece felt as though he was experiencing that same old déjà vu again, that cold feeling he always experienced when another secret was about to be uncovered that he wasn’t going to like and he could feel his head pounding with the pressure already. Because, whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t going to like it.
Martha looked at him, still unsure of what to do, still unsure as to whether breaking India’s trust was the right way to go. ‘I promised her I wouldn’t say anything. I promised her that everything she told me was spoken in confidence…’
‘I’m her father, Martha.’
‘And that’s why she doesn’t want you to know.’
‘It’s to do with Michael, isn’t it? What he did to her? You know, don’t you?’
Martha nodded, unable to lie about that, at least. Although, exactly what she was going to tell him she was still unsure of.
‘What did he do?’ Reece asked, his voice shaking because he was so close to finally finding out just what that man had done to his daughter that had caused her to shut him out of her life for almost seven years. Nobody did that without a damn good reason, especially when a child was involved. Nobody did that. Least of all India.
‘I can’t tell you,’ Martha whispered, gripping onto the sideboard, her fingers clinging on with a strength she hadn’t known she’d had.
‘Oh, you can,’ Reece said, not willing to be left in the dark any longer, not now he was this close. ‘You can tell me. It’s easy. Just say the words, Martha. Just say them. What did he do to her?’
Martha shook her head, tears starting to well up in her eyes, her nails digging into the sideboard as she gripped it tighter. ‘Baby, I can’t. She promised me…’
‘Fuck promises!’ Reece shouted, frustration getting the better of him. ‘I don’t care what you promised her, Martha. I won’t be kept in the fucking dark any longer, do you hear me? Now, whatever she told you, you tell me, okay? You tell me.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ Reece pushed a hand through his hair again, pacing the floor. ‘Okay, well, if you won’t tell me then maybe I need to speak to India myself…’
‘No, Reece, please…’ Martha reached out to grab his arm, stopping him from storming out of the bedroom. Letting him leave when he was in this frame of mind could only spell trouble, and nobody needed any more of that. ‘Wait! Okay? Just, wait.’
Reece swung back round, leaning against the wall, sighing heavily as he looked at his wife. ‘No secrets, Martha. I thought that’s what we’d agreed. We’d have no secrets.’
‘This is different, and