The Secret

Simone could never understand why Steven had joined the army in the first place — You train to save life and then you train to take it? It’s crazy — just as he didn’t understand why she had devoted her entire life to what he saw as taking on an impossible task with the odds continually stacked against her and everyone like her. He was a very practical individual who didn’t believe in getting into fights he couldn’t win while she was very much an ‘It’s better to light a candle than curse the darkness’ sort of person. Although he’d never said so, Steven had always suspected that religion might be behind Simone’s outlook, as was so often the case with those involved in the apparently selfless doing of good, but this idea was torpedoed when on one occasion Simone had volunteered that she didn’t believe in God. It had taken him so much by surprise that he could only mumble ‘Me neither’.

They had met at irregular intervals, usually when Simone was in London with her ‘begging bowl’, as she put it, although it sounded better with a French accent. They would get together for dinner and discuss the state of the world, Steven’s views reflecting his ever-growing cynicism while an apparently eternal optimism that always made him laugh shone from Simone. He smiled at the memory as he picked up another handful of pebbles to throw into the sea. He had once said to her that he could understand why everyone liked her but failed to see what she saw in him. She’d laughed and put her hand on his arm to reply, ‘You have a good heart, Steven. Don’t try so hard to hide it.’

Two

‘All right?’ asked Sue, who was working in the kitchen when Steven entered by the back door.

‘Yes thanks,’ Steven replied. ‘Sorry about running off.’

‘Don’t be. It’s when the death of a friend doesn’t affect you that you should start to worry.’

Steven smiled. ‘How come you always know the right thing to say?’

‘You obviously weren’t at the last meeting of the PTA when I suggested that the collective IQs of the local council wouldn’t break three figures.’

‘Did you really?’ exclaimed Steven, his voice betraying more admiration than shock.

‘ ’Fraid so. Maybe you should go talk to Jenny for a bit. She’s on the games console with the other two.’

The children were arguing about whose turn it was next when Steven entered the playroom. Jenny rushed over to him and gave his waist a big hug. ‘Auntie Sue said you’d had some bad news about one of your friends, Daddy.’

‘I’m afraid so, nutkin.’

‘Are they dead?’ asked Peter, the eldest of the three.

‘Yes she is, Peter.’

‘Was she a policeman like you, Daddy?’ asked Jenny. Sue and Richard had brought her up to believe that this was what Steven did in London.

‘No, nutkin, she was a very kind doctor who worked in far-off countries helping sick children.’

‘Was she eaten by a lion?’ asked Mary.

‘Don’t think so, Mary.’

‘What will the sick children do now?’

‘The other doctors will have to do extra work.’

‘I’d hate it if one of my friends died,’ said Peter and the other two concurred with nods.

‘Maybe we should talk about something else, like what we’re going to do tomorrow,’ suggested Steven.

‘Swimming,’ exclaimed Peter.

‘Yes, swimming,’ echoed the other two.

‘Swimming it is then,’ said Steven, pleased that the tradition of going swimming at Dumfries pool during his visits was not to be broken, although he suspected that the junk food lunch afterwards followed by as much ice cream as they could handle had more than a little to do with their decision.

With the children in bed and Sue and Richard parked in front of the TV watching a serial they followed, Steven went off to his room to call Tally.

‘Having fun?’ she asked.

Steven told her about Simone.

‘I don’t think you’ve mentioned her before.’

‘It’s been a couple of years since I last saw her.’

‘Was she... special?’

‘Not in the way you mean but she was a special sort of person.’ Steven told Tally about Simone’s work with Médecins Sans Frontières.

‘So what was it? Guilt or booking a front-row seat in heaven?’

‘Neither,’ replied Steven, permitting himself a small smile. Tally was nothing if not forthright. ‘Simone didn’t believe in God and she had nothing to feel guilty about. She told me she had a very happy childhood; sailed through medical school with an armful of prizes before joining Med Sans.’

‘Then she really was special,’ conceded Tally. ‘A truly good person. You don’t meet many of those along the way.’

‘Yep.’

‘So what happened?’

‘John didn’t know. He just thought I should be told. He’ll call back when he learns more.’

‘Are you going to stop off in Leicester before you go back to London?’

‘If you’ll have me.’

‘Oh, I’ll have you all right,’ murmured Tally.

A broad smile broke out on Steven’s face. ‘You could make good money with a telephone voice like that.’

‘Where d’you think the flat came from?’

‘I find out a little more about you each day.’