Sworn Secret by Amanda Jennings Page B

him, but there was always a part of him that believed at some point she’d realise she’d chosen the wrong brother, and it was the handsome, wealthy artist who lived in a penthouse apartment in Manhattan she really should have married.
    ‘So when are you flying in?’ Jon asked, ignoring his brother’s ask after Kate.
    ‘Couple of days. Sunday, I think. I’ve got an opening on Saturday that I can’t get out of. They need me there to smile and charm.’
    ‘Would you like me to meet your plane?’ Jon forced.
    ‘Jonny, my man, that would be great. Maybe Kiki could make us some lunch. It would be good to spend some time with her, and you and little Lizbette too, of course.’

The Girl in the Cage: Part One
     
    The day after the memorial Lizzie decided she had to see Haydn again.
    Her dad was in the kitchen pouring a glass of orange juice. He’d just got back from work, his suit was crumpled, his tie loose, top button undone. He looked tired, as if he’d had a difficult day.
    ‘Hi,’ she said.
    He turned and smiled a weary smile. ‘Hello, angel, how are you?’
    She shrugged. ‘Fine.’
    ‘How was school?’ he asked carefully.
    She shrugged again. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘You know.’
    In truth, school had been hard work. She nearly didn’t go, but she knew she’d have to face the place sooner or later and, a bit like having a jab, it seemed best to get it over and done with. A couple of girls shouted across the playground that her mum was a loony and should be in the psycho ward; there was a degree of general whispering and pointing, and when she walked into the dining room, a few moments of loaded hush. The fact that she’d been unable to think about anything other than Haydn was actually very helpful.
    ‘I know what you mean.’ Her dad sighed heavily as he opened the fridge to put the juice carton back.
    ‘I think I might go for a walk,’ she said, as casually as she could.
    ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ he said. He drank his juice in one. ‘Tell you what, give me a few minutes to change out of my suit and I’ll come with you.’
    Lizzie stopped in her tracks. ‘Oh. Well, actually, do you mind if I go alone? You know, after yesterday, I feel like some quiet time . . . to think stuff over . . .’ She trailed off, hoping she’d not upset him.
    ‘Yes, yes, sure. You go on; it’s a lovely evening. Perfect for thinking.’ Lizzie could tell he was disappointed. She hesitated, wondering if she should stay, but then again, she was totally desperate to see Haydn.
    ‘I won’t be long,’ she said. ‘We could have a game of chess when I get back.’
    ‘OK. You’re on.’
    ‘I’ll beat you, so you better be ready.’ She hung at the door, still unsure.
    ‘Go on, you. Have your walk.’
    ‘Sure?’
    ‘Go!’ He smiled and shooed his hands at her.
    ‘Love you, Dad.’
    She ran all the way to Haydn’s house, worried she would lose her nerve if she didn’t get there quickly. When she reached the front door she was so out of breath she had to stand panting on the doorstep, waiting to catch her breath before ringing the doorbell.
    Mrs Howe looked shocked to see her and seemed unsure what to say. Her mouth opened then closed again.
    ‘Can I talk to Haydn?’
    ‘Well, I’m not sure—’
    ‘He lent me something. I need to give it back to him.’ Lizzie spoke quickly, her stomach tumbling over itself as her bravery seeped away.
    Mrs Howe looked up and down the street over Lizzie’s shoulder then crossed her arms; her eyes turned hard. ‘I think you should be at home with your mother.’
    Lizzie felt her cheeks grow warm. From the tang of judgement in Mrs Howe’s voice, Lizzie figured she must be even more disappointed with her mum than she had imagined she would be. She looked at her feet and tried to steady her racing heart. She felt protective of her mother, wanted to explain how hard the year had been for her, make her deputy head realize she wasn’t herself, but sort of semi-permanently