Keeping Secrets: The Van Helsen Series, #7

By L Tait

Secrets. Everybody's got them, but...how good are they at keeping them? The night of the Art Exhibition has finally arrived, and it proves to be both an eventful, and awkward, evening for Kris and Hazel. The appearance of one of Kris's least favourite people sets the cat among the pigeons, and causes chaos. But...things aren't what they appear to be...

(Van Helsen Series Book seven, 50,650 words approx).

• Language: English
• Publisher: L Tait
• Release date: Nov 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519913593

Book preview

Keeping Secrets

The Van Helsen Series, Volume 7

L Tait

Published by L Tait, 2015.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

KEEPING SECRETS

First edition. November 15, 2015.

Copyright © 2015 L Tait.

ISBN: 978-1519913593

Written by L Tait.

Also by L Tait

The Van Helsen Series

Frenemies

Home Truths

The Reunion

Loose Cannon

Satan's Game

Artistic Differences

Keeping Secrets

Identity Crisis

Undecided...

Standalone

If Only!

School Daze!

Random Quest

I'm Not As Green As I'm Cabbage Looking!

The Work Experience

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By L Tait

Keeping Secrets (The Van Helsen Series, #7)

There’s an old expression, ‘Your schooldays are the happiest days of your life’,which your parents, especially mine, would always quote, on a regular basis, whenever you complain that your biggest problem is having too much homework to do, or what you should wear to the school disco, or, in some cases, figuring out whether a boy who constantly teased you, and tripped you up in the corridor outside your English classroom really hated you, or quite liked the look of you.

Well, nobody told me, seventeen (but a few months short of being eighteen) year old Hazel Van Helsen, that they wouldn’t be recalled for being the happiest days of my life, but, possibly the most turbulent, dangerous, but also exhilarating days of my life in particular.

Perhaps I should also explain my rather unusual surname.  I was Hazel Woodford, but, about a month ago, I married the most wonderful, but compelling man I’d ever met.  His name was Kris Van Helsen, and we first met in the uninspiring environment that was Willsden High School, where he’d joined the teaching staff,who, unbeknownst to me at the time, was an undercover Norwegian secret agent assigned to lure out a drugs baron, who later turned out to be the man who used to be his best friend, who, for purely personal reasons, also had it in for me.

But, despite the unusual circumstances and the fates that seemed to consistently conspire against us, it didn’t tear us apart.  On the contrary,we refused to let such negative influences get in the way of what we believed, and knew, was true love, and I was determined not to let the demons of my husband’s past get the better of us, and what we had together.

Our six month old daughter, Jana, was testament to the strong, passionate love we had for each other, a kind of chemistry that was so effervescent and intoxicating, that it left the competition standing in the pure love stakes.

Recently, however, we’d overcome many dangerous situations, involving equally dangerous people, the most dangerous to date being Thomas Berg, an old acquaintance of Kris’s, but, not a friendly one.  He had been the school bully, and his bullying and hectoring tactics

hadn’t abated with age.  If anything, his infamous mercenary manner had intensified, along with his deep seated hatred for my husband.

But, he was now officially dead, and, unlike Cassandra, Kris’s ex wife, would not be coming back for an encore.  Kris had made certain of this fact by attending Thomas Berg’s autopsy in person, as he had done with Lauren Fredriksson, Thomas’s accomplice.

Even though everything at Holmenkollen had transpired only a week ago, Kris still looked little more than a shadow of his former self, despite Doctor Sebastian’s having given him a clean bill of health.

I knew that, even though, physically, my husband was on the mend, as the expression goes, psychologically, like myself, he was having trouble coming to terms with almost being at death’s door at the hands of Thomas Berg and Lauren Fredriksson, who were nothing more than corpses lying in the mortuary at Headquarters, awaiting burial, which, I thought, after what she put me through, was far too good for her.

I thought that her body, and that of Thomas Berg’s, should have been taken to the woods at Holmenkollen and thrown to the wolves, assuming Holmenkollen had any wolves, but, to quote my husband directly, he didn’t want me to ‘lower myself, or my thoughts, to their level.’

So, that was the last word to be said on the matter, and that rather unpleasant chapter in our seemingly rather extraordinary lives.

Only, I still had one nagging doubt.

And...it couldn’t be described as a doubt.

More a person, who had, in the past,confessed that he had feelings for me, even though he knew I was engaged to be married to Kris at the time, but hoped, deep down, that by being around, that I would leave Kris for him instead.

That said, I knew that, deep in my heart, I would always love Kris, until God separated us, in the way that only he could.

Nevertheless, the man in question, Morten Hardanger, who was the undeniably attractive, charismatic, sexually voracious, lead singer of Norway’s biggest rock group to date, was virtually Kris’s equal.  He had looks, money, talent, and everything a girl of my age could possibly want in a man.

But, Kris had the edge on him purely because he’d had to pit his wits against some formidable adversaries, and had faced numerous death defying situations, which had eventually(and quite meteorically) plotted his course, resulting in his being appointed Commissioner for the entire law enforcement faction of the entire country.

Therefore, I had every reason to believe that my husband was the better man, both physically and intellectually.

And yet, from the unfortunate, but almost inevitable, one night stand that I’d had with Morten, I’d come to realise that Morten had a quality that I truly admired, but had not admitted it to Kris, or, until very recently, to myself.

Everything that had transpired up to the present day had been pushed to the back of my mind, as my husband and I focused our attention on getting ready to appear at an art exhibition, that Anoushka, Kris’s younger sister, and my sister-in-law, and Henrik Wegersland, her fiance, had organised to highlight the cultural contributions the country had made over the years, which would hopefully boost tourism as well.

This exhibition also served another purpose.  It would also make our marriage official, being seen at our first formal engagement, as husband and wife, and also swear Kris in as the new Commissioner of the country’s law enforcement contingent.  Kris was going to make a speech at this event, and had been driving me round the twist with the number of times I’d heard him rehearsing it.

(‘I’m sorry, Haze.’ he’d apologised, ‘but, I just want it to be perfect.’)

And, I’d assured him that it almost certainly would be.

My parents, and Holly, my older sister, were staying at a hotel in the city, even though I’d insisted that they stayed with Kris and I.  Mum had declined our offer outright, as all mothers do, insisting that we needed our privacy, and preferred to stay in a hotel, so that they could be close to all the attractions and amenities, some of which they either didn’t get to see when they were here before, or wanted to see again.

Kris, as usual, had managed to get the last word on the matter, as all husbands do, by insisting upon footing the bill for the duration of their stay, so, you could say that we’d reached a compromise on the issue, and everybody was happy.

Well...almost everybody.

I personally, on the other hand, should have been ecstatic, being the arm candy of one of the most influential, gorgeous men in the entire country.

But, I wasn’t.

The reason for this was, that, while Kris’s family were visiting him in hospital, on the day he’d received his life saving blood transfusion, I’d gone behind his back, and privately asked Doctor Sebastian to do me a favour, purely as a precautionary measure, to put my mind at rest, once and for all.

However, what I later discovered as a result of Doctor Sebastian performing a pregnancy test, definitely eased my mind , but did little for my conscience.

As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, even though my immediate thoughts weren’t exactly directed towards getting ready for the Exhibition, my body was on automatic pilot, and functioning regardless of what was going on at Mission Control.

I knew, as I applied the finishing touches to my make up, and ran a brush through my now almost shoulder length hair, that my husband would have to be told, as well as Morten, but, I felt that now was not the time.

I mentally replayed the moment when Doctor Sebastian, who I trusted implicitly, as he was a good friend of Counsellor Olsen(A prosecution attorney with a heart of gold, that we’d encountered earlier in the year), gave me the not so much unwelcome news, but more complicated news, to use the correct word, and how well I’d received it.

‘Hazel...’ he’d started, approaching me with an enigmatic smile on his face.

‘Well?’ I’d asked, knowing instinctively what the answer was going to be.

‘Gratulerer, Hazel.  You’re pregnant.’Doctor Sebastian had informed me, smiling.  ‘I’ll leave it to you to give him the good news.’ He’d concluded, before disappearing back on to the wards to attend to his patients, while I just sat there, in the Visitor’s lounge in the hospital, with my head in my hands.

I realised now that there was no easy way out of this situation, without somebody getting hurt, one way or the other, and, having to pretend to act normal around Kris, when I didn’t exactly feel normal, was psychologically draining.

But, under the circumstances, act normal was all I could do for the time being.

We’d hired a childminder from a reputable firm in the city, so Jana was well taken care of, leaving Kris and I free to get ready.

I had just laid my hairbrush on top of the medicine cabinet, when there was a knock on the bathroom door, before it slowly opened a fraction, and my beautiful husband poked his head round it, his eyes shining with undisguised pride, and something else I couldn’t put my finger on.

‘Wow, Haze, you look...fantastic!’ he praised, stepping into the room as he spoke.

Through my reflection in the mirror, I smiled back at him.

Kris was dressed in a formal tuxedo with a dicky bow, or, as my dad would have called it, a ‘monkey suit’.  And, he looked so stunning, I couldn’t find the appropriate words to express to him just how amazing he actually looked in it.

‘Oh Kris!’ I exclaimed, closing the distance between us, by walking over to him, and wrapping my arms around his waist.  ‘You look like James Bond! You’re every inch the secret agent now!’ I enthused, running my hands up and down his torso and gazing admiringly into his aquamarine eyes.

‘And, I’m still the secret agent of old that you know, and love.' Kris replied, kissing me very passionately, and causing me to let out a rather loud moan.  ’What...what is it?’ he added, holding me at arm’s length and regarding me with a quizzical look in his eyes.  ’Am I that good at kissing? Could I teach a class in the art of it?’

’Yes, and...yes, Dearest.  but, you’ve smudged my lipstick a little.’ I laughed, ’And, if you ever consider, or even think about offering your services to the kissing industry, if such an industry actually exists, I’d see that as grounds for divorce!’ I warned, while Kris just stood there, in silence, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

I was secretly glad, as I reached for my lipstick again, that I had opted for a black,

Chinese, knee length dress, which had beautiful silk embroidery detail in shades of pale green and gold.

Considering that Kris was dressed very simply and elegantly, in black and white, I felt that we complimented each other beautifully.  Kris had managed to tame his unruly (but beautiful!) lion’s mane of blond hair, with the help of several hair care products, whereas I had simply swept my hair up in a large clasp.

In fact, I was dressed almost identically at the time when Kris and I had spent our first night together at the Glasgow Hilton hotel, when I met his parents for the first time.

That had been a night to remember for two very important reasons.

And Kris, true to form, commented on it.

‘God, how you look now reminds me of our very first night together in Glasgow.’ he recalled, brushing my untidy fringe away from my forehead, and kissing it softly.

‘You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing.’ I admitted.

‘Would you care to reenact some of those fabulous moments from that evening, Haze?’ Kris invited generously, drawing me into his arms again and taking me completely by surprise, by kissing me rather fiercely.

Not surprisingly, I moaned again, but, this time it wasn’t due to the fact that my dear husband had, once more wrecked my perfect make up job, quite the opposite.

I suddenly felt consumed with passion and desire for him, suppressing, momentarily my inner turmoil over who could possibly be the father of this new child that had been a part of me for the past month or so.

‘Do we have time, Dearest?’ I breathed, hoping that we would , as I knew, then and there, that I wouldn’t be able to get through the evening with this inexplicable, deep, physical hunger gnawing within me, insatiable, and, as yet, unsatisfied.

Again, to my surprise, Kris laughed.

‘Haze,’ he began, kissing my nose lightly, ‘if this is some inane contest to see who can ask the silliest question, I reckon you’ve won! Of course we have time.  We are the guests of honour, after all.’ Kris pointed out, stating the obvious as only he could.

‘Good.’ I sighed, before taking his face in my hands, and kissing him, very softly at first, and then, running my tongue, slowly, and very sensuously, around the inside of his mouth,purposefully taking my time, and wanting to make it last for as long as I possibly could.

‘Oh Haze,’Kris murmured, holding me very close to him, while I unfastened a few buttons on his shirt, allowing my hand to explore beneath the folds of material, touching his smooth, cool skin, which encouraged me to go even further in my intimate exploration of my husband’s body.

And, his deep moans, along with the ferocity with which he’d pulled me down on to the bathroom floor(which, thankfully, was dry!)and kissed me, was a clear indication of his approval of my actions.

Although I could tell that his desire for me was as strong as my desire for him, Kris took his time, from the moment I initially took him within me, right through to the point of no return, the stage where even the most well grounded individuals often lose their sense of perspective and awareness, even for a very short period of time.