Second Chance Lane (Brockenridge #2) - Nicola Marsh Page 0,7

tell Isla her father was an international rock star who didn’t know she existed?

The secret sat like a rock in the pit of her stomach: immoveable, painful, unforgiving. She’d wondered many times whether she should tell Isla the truth, but the older her daughter got, the more chance of her rebelling and acting out against her.

She had to come up with a smart response, one that wouldn’t alert Isla to the fact her mother was a lying fraud.

Tash reached for her daughter’s hand, clasping it between both of hers, and was thankful when Isla didn’t pull away. ‘We’ve discussed your dad many times. I told you he played in a band in Melbourne, we went out for a short time, but then he left for overseas and I never heard from him again.’

‘Which basically tells me nothing, Mum.’ Isla pouted. ‘What’s his name so I can look him up? Everyone has a social media profile these days. Except you. Maybe he wants to meet me, now that I’m older? Why can’t you reach out to him?’

The questions left Tash winded. What could she say if she did reach out to Kody? ‘Hey, remember when I lied to you about aborting our baby? Well, here she is—surprise!’

So Tash reached for the worst lie of all.

‘He had another life overseas, sweetie, and he didn’t have time for a child.’

Tash’s gut churned as it did every time she uttered the monstrosity, or some version of it. No surprises why she didn’t sleep well at night. At first she’d blamed her insomnia on motherhood but as Isla grew older and slept through, Tash knew her wakefulness had more to do with the lie she perpetuated than any mucked-up body clock.

‘I hate him.’ Isla pushed away from the table so fast her chair hit the wall. ‘Anyway, now you know what happened, are you going to punish me too?’

‘I think being away from netball for a month is punishment enough, but you can’t get physical like that again, okay?’

Her daughter nodded and slumped back into her chair. ‘I feel bad for hurting Dennie, even if she was being super mean to me.’

‘Why don’t you ring her and apologise?’

‘I already said sorry in person when I cleaned up her knee, and she was okay.’ Isla’s nose crinkled. ‘Though Coach went ape and gave me a massive embarrassing lecture in front of everyone.’

‘In that case, maybe apologising to Coach couldn’t hurt?’

Isla visibly brightened, as if the thought hadn’t entered her head. ‘Yeah, that’s a good idea. She really likes those chocolate éclairs from the bakery. Maybe I could buy her one and go to training really early tomorrow before everyone gets there, and give it to her and say sorry?’

‘Great idea.’ Tash stood and dropped a kiss on Isla’s head. ‘Now, it’s been a long day. Why don’t we have leftover spag bol for dinner then crash in front of the TV?’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Isla stood and, to Tash’s surprise, flung her arms around her. ‘Thanks, Mum. You’re fair and a good listener and better than any stinky old dad who doesn’t want to be around.’

Tash hugged Isla tight and willed the tears away. If only her guilt would follow suit.

CHAPTER

4

Kody had done a lot of dumb things in his life but this had to be the dumbest.

How had he thought that hiding away in some holiday home at the arse end of the earth would help him heal? If anything, rattling around Yanni’s plush pad by himself left him with too much time to think … remember … rehash. He did enough of that in his nightmares every frigging night. Waking to the screams were the worst. Desperate cries for help that went unanswered as the crowd tried to escape the flames and the stampede that followed. Heartrending, gut-wrenching screams that would haunt him forever.

He’d been responsible for the deaths of seven people. No amount of soul-searching or relaxation or whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here would change that.

‘Fuck,’ he muttered, pushing through the back door and letting it slam behind him. Fresh air wouldn’t help what ailed him but it wouldn’t hurt either and he’d spent too much time over the last month hiding away: from the media, from his manager, even from his best mates in his beloved band. He couldn’t face anyone, not when he could break down at any moment.

He trudged along a makeshift path, kicking up tiny clouds of dirt every now and then. The land