Secrets we keep, p.1
Secrets We Keep, page 1
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Secrets We Keep
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
PART I
Chapter 2. Uncle Stepan’s Store
Chapter 3. The Rainy Day at the Svyatoshyn Market
Chapter 4. The Good Old Friends
Chapter 5. The Big Day
Chapter 6. Emily at Home, at Work and in Love
Chapter 7. The Family Affairs
Chapter 8. The Luck of Chervona Ruta
Chapter 9. The Return with Fanfare
Chapter 10. The First Days in the Office
Chapter 11. The First Project
Chapter 12. The Black Pearl Restaurant
PART II
Chapter 14. The Grand Party
Chapter 15. The Unexpected Guest
Chapter 16. The Millionaires’ Club
Chapter 17. The Love, the Jealousy, and the Crying Baby
Chapter 18. When All Hope’s Lost
Chapter 19. The Perfect Getaway
Chapter 20. The Brightest Star of Zanzibar
Chapter 21. Golden Ticket, Anyone?
Chapter 22. The Georgetown Waterfront
Chapter 23. Fate in Limbo
Chapter 24. The Icing on The Cake
Glossary
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing
The Indian Ocean was gorgeous, with its bright and clear turquoise waters, and they were passing a lot of different, interesting vessels. Some of them were ordinary boats and yachts which Anna was used to seeing in the States, but others had triangular lateen sails and sharp bows. These boats were both big and small, and some were tiny with just one fisherman sitting in them.
“These are called dhow boats,” Jean said, pointing at a few of the traditional vessels sailing by. “It is a typical East African boat. In the past, merchants were traveling in such boats all the way to and from India carrying all kinds of heavy items—fruit, water, different merchandise—”
“I love these,” she interrupted with excitement. “They are so beautiful and romantic. They look like the vessels from fairy tales.”
By now, Anna was no longer scared; she even got up and walked around the boat, enjoying the scenery around her. The boat was moving at a good speed and would be reaching the destination in no time.
Anna tried not to look at Jean but eventually she could not help taking a peek at him sitting on the bench, totally in his element, relaxed with his blond hair flowing in the wind. He took his T-shirt off, and Anna was able to see he had a deep tan and was muscular—maybe a couple of inches shorter than David and also thinner.
How would David carry himself in Tanzania?
Secrets We Keep
by
Valeriya Goffe
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Secrets We Keep
COPYRIGHT © 2023 by Valeriya Goffe
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Edition, 2024
Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-5092-5246-6
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-5247-3
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my family
Prologue
Kyiv, Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic, January 3, 1973
Solomon picked up a framed photo from his desk and looked at it with a long, wistful gaze. His eyes moistened around the edges. Gloria appeared so vivid, so incredibly beautiful with long hair cascading down her shoulders like frothy waves. Her smile was electric and her laughter contagious. Whether they ran along the beach under the robin’s egg blue sky or swam in the turquoise ocean waters, Solomon could never keep up with her.
My little sister must have grown a lot during these six years… Just a few more weeks, and we’ll be together again.
He smiled for a brief second, imagining his wife in Africa for the first time. This was going to be quite a sight! Maria would freak out once she saw their grand family mansion overlooking the Indian Ocean… But she would love it, no doubt about it. Together, with Maria, he would explore his native land all over again—listen to the trumpeting of mighty elephants, admire the flame-colored acacias, and breath in the aroma of cloves and other spices in the vast plantations.
Solomon reached into his pocket and rubbed a small bag with sand. A gritty piece of the beach from his native country. Soon enough, he’d be walking down his favorite beach again—this time with his wife.
Thinking about Maria, it was definitely time to go home now. He looked at the clock. It was already eight pm. Maria never complained that he stayed late at work—he was saving lives here after all—but tonight he felt a sudden urge to embrace her and also press the little Olena against his heart. Solomon quickly packed his things up and started shutting down the office at the Happy Meows Veterinary Clinic.
“Doctor, I beg you, do not leave!” a woman who must have been eighty years old forced her way into the clinic. She grabbed on to the sleeve of Solomon’s dove-gray jacket. “Please, can anything be done?”
She held out a basket with a small white cat who was meowing weakly under a soft pink blanket. “Murka is all I have, please rescue her.”
Solomon lifted the miserable cat out of the basket and started carefully examining her. “How did this happen?”
“Oh, it is all my fault. I was cooking some fish for us on the stove, but I forgot to switch it off. The fish got burnt. So, I opened a window to get a little fresh air in the kitchen. I did not see that Murka was right there. I assumed she was asleep… She accidentally slipped on the icy windowsill and fell down. We live on the fifth floor, doctor. I heard about the miracles you perform from my neighbors many times. So, I put Murka in the basket and rushed here as fast as I could. I thought this was the only place where my kitty could be rescued.”
Solomon finished his examination and carefully put the cat back in the basket. “Yes, there is a chance to save Murka.”
The old lady’s face lit up with a glimpse of hope.
“Murka did not manage to land on her feet, but being a cat, she suffered much less damage than a person would. I will have to perform surgery, however. Every second counts. I must warn you that this will be an expensive procedure, and Murka will need a lot of medicines right after to ensure recovery. I will write a prescription for you, so you can go to the 24/7 pharmacy around the corner. The medicines would cost at least one-hundred rubles. Is this fine?”
The light of hope disappeared from the old lady’s face, and she started crying bitterly. “Doctor, I understand, the surgery is the only way to go. And this is fine with me. But… I would not be able to pay for all these expensive treatments. This is all I have—” And she took out all the contents of her antique wallet, mostly coins and a few crumpled small bills.
“Please take it all. I wish I had more. Maybe I can try to sell some things from my home in the market tomorrow. I do not have anything valuable, but it could yield some money. We live far away, though. It took us over two hours to get here, and it is already evening. We first took a bus and then walked for at least thirty minutes from the bus stop. Luckily, many people had been to Happy Meows and showed us the way. I have no friends or relatives to borrow from nearby. Today, I have nothing else.”
Solomon shook his head. Without the urgent intervention, the cat could not be saved. She suffered too much damage. “I am sorry. Tomorrow will be too late. You would put Murka through a lot of pain, without any chance to rescue her. It would be unkind. Please think about that. We cannot be selfish when a loved one is suffering. We have to act now.”
The old lady’s body trembled and she stood there motionless for a minute or two. Her face was struck with immense pain and she seemed to age another decade in those brief moments. Eventually, she gave the cat a long farewell kiss.
“It is all my fault…” she repeated with the same sadness in her voice. “I will never forgive myself. I do not know how I will live now. Please, put Murka to sleep, doctor. I do not want her to be in any more pain. She does not deserve it. One day, we will meet again, my dear friend. I will cherish every moment we shared.”
Solomon wrapped his arm around the fragile old lady to give her the support she so desperately needed, as she was plunging deeper and deeper into the world of grief. He then quietly picked Murka up and carried her to the operation room. The cat owner did not object. She just stood there without movement, tears flowing down her cheeks.
Solomon made up his mind quickly. In a few minutes, he performed the most difficult operation of his career, without a single ruble paid by the pet’s owner.
“She will be sleeping for a few hours, this is totally fine,” Solomon announced to the astonished old lady, as he was handing Murka back to her, as well as a small bag with all the necessary medications. “The operation was successful. Murka is expected to make a full recovery. Please make sure to give her these medicines.”
“Thank you, thank you, doctor,” the cat owner mumbled, as her eyes were filling up with tears of joy and her lips spread in a smile. She was stroking the cat’s fur frantically, while her whole body was shaking. “You brought my little girl back… from the grave. And me together with her.”
“I was just doing my job,” Solomon said calmly.
“You are young enough to be my grandson, yet I can now see for myself where your tremendous fame came from… Not only do you have the golden hands, but also the golden heart. I will never forget your kindness. May God bless you for all your good deeds.”
Solomon ushered the old woman and her pet out and finally closed up the clinic. As he was walking towards his car, he felt a strong urge to turn around. He looked at the Happy Meows building and stood in silence for a brief moment. The simple two-storied construction was illuminated by the silver moonlight, making it look not like a clinic but a divine castle. A place where love prevailed over death. The good prevailed over evil. The light prevailed over the darkness.
Soft tenderness filled up Solomon’s heart and streamed down his veins. The memories of animals he had rescued during his career slowly flowed in front of his eyes.
Finally, he started walking towards his car, the sparkling firm snow crunching under his boots.
I will miss this when we go back to Africa.
Peace and quiet reigned over the city at this late hour. The strong wind died down, now tenderly caressing the branches of the leafless trees. The full moon gracefully rose up high, illuminating the dark velvet of the sky. A few light snowflakes circled in the air like skilled ballerinas and fell effortlessly on the cold ground, their short dance over in a flash.
The roads were wide open, with just a handful of cars here and there, probably driving home to their loved ones, minding their own business. Sidewalks, bustling with pedestrians in the daytime, were completely empty. Many Kyiv residents were inside still celebrating the New Year or out of town visiting their friends and relatives.
As Solomon was serenely cruising along the wide streets in his snow-white Volga, his gaze accidentally fell on a car which was right behind him. It seemed to keep some distance, but whenever Solomon changed lanes, the car also moved; whenever he turned, it also turned. The dark gray Moskvich moved steadily and calmly along the road, like a giant spider, getting closer and closer to its victim.
Solomon’s mouth suddenly became dry and his throat tightened. The Moskvich was now only a car length behind, with its lights glowing menacingly, like rings of fire.
What do these people want from me?
He pressed on the gas pedal as hard as he could. His faithful Volga was flying through the city like a white swan being chased by a relentless hunter. Solomon finally made it to the Taras Shevchenko Boulevard. He was now just a few minutes away from his home on the historical Ivanka Franka street. His family was but a stone’s throw away.
Solomon glanced in the rear-view mirror, as he was trying to fight off the sense of disquiet. He sighed with relief; the road behind him was now empty. Maybe it was just a mistake and he had imagined everything.
Right at that moment, an incredible force shook Solomon’s body and tossed him up in the air, as a huge blow struck his car. A million broken glass pieces flew by his eyes and dug into his skin. Cloying darkness enveloped him until the moon briefly cast a ghostly glow on his pale face.
After overcoming the initial shock, Solomon desperately tried to get out of the car. But it was all in vain. His legs felt completely numb, and no matter how hard he tried to pull himself up with his arms, he could not move an inch.
Several images raced through Solomon’s mind. One was of little Olena in her bright-red suit extending her chubby arms to him and another one. Another one of Maria standing by the window, cooking borscht and smiling gently, illuminated by the silver moonlight.
“If only I had time to tell them,” whispered Solomon as he squeezed the small bag of sand in his pocket.
Solomon made a grave mistake. He knew this now. He’d waited too long. His beloved Ukrainian family would now never know who he was and where he came from. Maria and Olena would remain just ordinary people living in the colorless, cold USSR for the rest of their lives, and never witness the glory of Africa.
He watched, immobile, as the gray car quickly turned around and fled in a matter of seconds, its tires squealing on the icy road. For a time, there was nothing but silence. Then, sound. The air filled up with the piercing howl of sirens. The long-awaited ambulance arrived, illuminating the coal-black night sky with frightful bloody-red lights.
Solomon’s heart thumped in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, he still had a chance to reveal the truth to his family.
PART I
Under the lying stone the water doesn’t flow
Ukrainian proverb
Chapter 1. The High Stakes
Indian Wells, California, present time
“Here you go. Thanks a lot for coming!” Anna smiled warmly and handed the signed tennis ball to the kid in the navy-blue shirt, standing up straight like a little soldier.
She loved the thrill of a tennis match, but she also savored these more relaxed moments. An opportunity to interact with tennis fans and get to know people who supported her during tennis tournaments—those who yelled “Go Anna!” from the stands, or applauded loudly after her winners, or quietly sat in their seats and simply bathed her in their positive energy.
Kids were especially precious—waiting so seriously and patiently for their turn, extending their short arms with tennis balls and other gear, smiling pleadingly: “Can you sign mine, please?” Anna always looked at their faces and wondered: who in this group was the future Grand Slam winner? Was it this curly boy in glasses and bright blue sneakers, holding out his marker with so much determination? Or maybe that pale little girl in the back, clinging to her mother, wearing a pink tennis dress and blond hair in cute pigtails?
Of course, not every kid asking for an autograph would be famous one day, but beyond doubt, a few of them would be. A decade or so later, they would be on a big stage, holding a shiny trophy. Signing autographs the same way Anna was doing today. Tennis was such a non-stopping machine, churning new champions out year after year. One player’s star went down, another player’s star rose up. Some champs stood on the pedestal only once, others would do so many times, bathing the spectators in the rays of their awe-inspiring glory.
Anna fixed a stubborn lock of her chestnut hair sticking out from underneath her tennis hat and glanced around. The square was empty. By now, all the fans had left. Everyone had gotten what they needed—autographs, selfies, or any tennis advice they were looking for.
Phew, she was all done for the day. Except for one thing. The most significant one actually.
Tonight was the all-important dinner with Donna McGreevy, the renowned agent from the Sierra international agency. They represented some of the best tennis players of the world. Donna was not just an agent. She was a fairy godmother. She held a magic wand which had the power of changing Anna’s life forever.
Could Donna possibly represent Anna?
Without a doubt.
Last year, when Anna won the Wimbledon junior title, Donna was incredibly impressed by Anna’s performance and had reached out to her. They immediately began discussing the possibility of representation. However, the process dragged. No offer was put on the table, and Anna had started losing hope.
But a couple of days ago, Donna called again and asked for a meeting at a restaurant. Yay! She’d probably made up her mind. Why else would she want to meet up, right?
Anna texted her mom as she was getting into a cab:
—Leaving for the restaurant—
The reply buzzed almost instantaneously:
—Donna’s already here, fifteen minutes early! Hurry up—
—Chatting about the weather for now. She is in good spirits—
Wow. Donna had come early! The blood rushed to Anna’s face and her pulse started racing. The fairy-tale was about to begin. She would be the first Ukrainian tennis player ever to get signed by the Sierra agency. No more pinching pennies. Anna would finally have the money to support her own training, travel to tournaments, eat dinner at nice restaurants, receive medical care, you name it.
