How to mend a broken hea.., p.1
How to Mend a Broken Heart, page 1
‘A brilliant read from one of Australia’s most popular authors, this will have you hooked from the very beginning.’ —Who on Flying the Nest
‘With her typical humour, empathy and wisdom, Rachael Johns has once again created characters you can’t help but fall in love with and wish the best for. Flying the Nest might just be her best novel yet!’ —Tess Woods, author of Love at First Flight, on Flying the Nest
‘Writing with warmth and insight, Rachael Johns is brilliant at capturing the joy and sadness in all of our lives. I hope she has many more tales to tell!’ —Anthea Hodgson, author of The Drifter, on Flying the Nest
‘A really good book makes you feel like you’ve found a new friend—one that resonates with you, and one who you can learn from. That’s exactly how I felt in Rachael Johns’ new novel, Flying the Nest … A disarmingly all-too-real portrayal of what happens when the traditional roles of wife and mother are turned on their head. This is a book that women will want to bond over, share laughs and tears over—a must read for every woman who has had their life take an unexpected turn.’ —Mamamia on Flying the Nest
‘Rachael Johns really gets women and is able to express the multilayered internal conflicts that so many of us experience, lay it all out on the page, and still make it deeply personal … She’s masterful at telling the stories of everyday heartbreaks … Flying the Nest is wonderful—Rachael Johns never disappoints.’ —Better Reading on Flying the Nest
‘If you like your chick-lit with a dash of intelligent social commentary, Just One Wish is the perfect summer read. Rachael Johns’s latest novel is sparklingly funny, quirky and totally of this moment.’ —Herald Sun on Just One Wish
‘Johns knows how to weave the experiences of different generations of women together, with nuance and sensitivity, understanding how competing contexts shape women’s choices … Exploring themes like motherhood, the roles of women, and lost love, Just One Wish will make you look at the women in your own life and wonder what stories they haven’t told.’ —Mamamia on Just One Wish
‘Johns draws readers in with her richly complex characters.’ —The Daily Telegraph on Just One Wish
‘Rachael Johns writes with warmth and heart, her easy, fluent style revealing an emotional intelligence and firm embrace of the things in life that matter, like female friendship.’ —The Age on Lost Without You
‘Heart-warming and compassionate … Any book lover interested in life’s emotional complexities and in the events that define and alter us, will be engrossed in Lost Without You.’ —Better Reading on Lost Without You
‘Full of heartache and joy with a twist that keeps the pages turning … The Greatest Gift will appeal to fans of Jojo Moyes and Monica McInerney.’ —Australian Books + Publishing on The Greatest Gift
‘Rachael Johns has done it again, writing a book that you want to devour in one sitting, and then turn back to the first page to savour it all over again. I loved the characters of Harper and Jasper; their stories made me laugh and cry, and ache and cheer and ultimately reflect on all the many facets of that extraordinary journey called motherhood.’ —Natasha Lester, author of The Paris Secret, on The Greatest Gift
‘The bond between Flick, Neve, and Emma blossomed as their sons grew up, but even best friends keep secrets from one another … Fans of emotional, issue driven women’s fiction will welcome Johns’ US women’s fiction debut.’ —Booklist on The Art of Keeping Secrets
‘… a compelling and poignant story of dark secrets and turbulent relationships … I fell completely in love with the well-drawn characters of Flick, Emma and Neve. They were funny and flawed and filled with the kind of raw vulnerability that makes your heart ache for them.’ —Nicola Moriarty, bestselling author of The Fifth Letter, on The Art of Keeping Secrets
‘Written with compassion and real insight, The Art of Keeping Secrets peeks inside the lives of three ordinary women and the surprising secrets they live with. Utterly absorbing and wonderfully written, Johns explores what secrets can do to a relationship, and pulls apart the notion that some secrets are best kept. It is that gripping novel that, once started, will not allow you to do anything else until the final secret has been revealed.’ —Sally Hepworth, bestselling author of The Secrets of Midwives, on The Art of Keeping Secrets
‘A fascinating and deeply moving tale of friendship, family and of course—secrets. These characters will latch onto your heart and refuse to let it go.’ —USA Today bestselling author Kelly Rimmer on The Art of Keeping Secrets
RACHAEL JOHNS is an English teacher by trade, a mum 24/7, a Diet Coke addict, a cat lover and chronic arachnophobe. She is also the bestselling, ABIA-winning author of The Patterson Girls and a number of other romance and women’s fiction books including The Art of Keeping Secrets, The Greatest Gift, Lost Without You, Just One Wish, Something to Talk About and Flying the Nest. Rachael rarely sleeps, never irons and loves nothing more than sitting in bed with her laptop and imagining her own stories. She is currently Australia’s leading writer of contemporary relationship stories around women’s issues, a genre she has coined ‘life-lit’.
Rachael lives in the Swan Valley with her hyperactive husband, three mostly gorgeous heroes-in-training, two ravenous cats, a cantankerous bird and a very badly behaved dog.
Rachael loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website rachaeljohns.com. She is also on Facebook and Instagram.
Also by Rachael Johns:
The Patterson Girls
The Art of Keeping Secrets
The Greatest Gift
Lost Without You
Just One Wish
Flying the Nest
The Rose Hill novels
Talk of the Town
Something to Talk About
The Bunyip Bay novels
Outback Dreams
Outback Blaze
Outback Ghost
Outback Sisters
The Hope Junction novels
Jilted
The Road to Hope
Man Drought
The Kissing Season (e-novella)
The Next Season (e-novella)
Secret Confessions Down and Dusty: Casey (e-novella)
www.harlequinbooks.com.au
To my writing buddies Maisey Yates, Megan Crane, Jaime
Collins and Anthea Hodgson—thanks for the adventures
we’ve shared in New Orleans
Contents
Praise
Also by Rachael Johns
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
A Note From Rachael Johns
Acknowledgements
1
Felicity
Felicity Bell took a rather large sip of her champagne, slipped off her uncomfortable high heels and flopped back in her seat. All around people were dancing, drinking and laughing, but Flick simply wanted to go home. She was happy that her friends Emma and Patrick had finally tied the knot, but all the dressing up, trailing around the city for photos and then dancing the night away had been exhausting.
When were the jubilant bride and groom going to leave anyway? It was almost midnight—didn’t they want to jump into the limo, head to their flash hotel in the city and make mad passionate love all night long like newlyweds were supposed to? Someone really ought to give them the memo.
‘You looked whacked,’ said Sofia as she lowered herself into the neighbouring seat and put her champagne glass down on the table.
‘I am.’ Flick smiled at the woman who used to be her husband. Out of a misguided sense of solidarity, Emma had worried about inviting Sofia but Flick hadn’t wanted her to feel excluded. It was bad enough the looks and comments she sometimes got from strangers without her closest friends making her feel like an outsider as well.
‘Nice frock.’ Sofia nodded towards Flick’s pink bridesmaid dress and smiled in a way that once upon a time would have sent her heart soaring.
She took in Sofia’s black wrap gown with bright red flowers splashed across it. ‘I could say the same about yours. It looked like you were having fun out there on the dance floor.’
‘You know I love a good party.’
And wasn’t that the truth. Sofia had always been the life of the party, so much better at socialising than Flick. Her friends had often admitted jealousy—I wish my husband was more like him. Well, she bet they weren’t jealous of her now.
‘It’s been a great wedding,’ Sofia added. ‘Emma’s dress is g
Flick swallowed. She’d always been a hopeless liar.
‘Yeah,’ she said, cringing at her squeaky voice. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy, not exactly, but being single at a wedding simply rammed home how alone she was these days. ‘I’m so happy for Emma.’
They both looked over to the dance floor where Emma and her brand-new husband were locked in a passionate embrace. They’d been dating for almost four years—pretty much as long as Flick had been single—but Emma had wanted to wait to get married until all her kids were grown.
Not too far from the newlyweds was Flick’s other best friend, Neve, pressed up close and personal with her handsome boyfriend James. She doubted they’d ever make their relationship ‘official’ but they were shacked up and committed in every sense of the word. Dotted around the dance floor were dozens of other loved-up couples, including Flick and Sofia’s daughter Zoe and her husband Beau.
She couldn’t believe Zoe’s wedding had been four years ago now. So much had changed since. When Zoe had come home and announced her engagement to her high school sweetheart, Flick believed the biggest concern in her life was her daughter getting married too young. How naive she’d been back then.
As if Sofia could still read her mind, she said, ‘So what are we going to get Zoe and Beau’s baby to call us?’
‘What?’ Flick almost choked on the mouthful she’d just taken. ‘She’s pregnant?’
‘No.’ Sofia chuckled. ‘But as they’re about to start trying I thought maybe it was something we should discuss.’
‘Oh right.’ Phew. For a moment there she thought she’d missed a very important announcement, but she knew that babies were on the agenda asap—Zoe could barely talk about anything else of late. It made Flick feel old. Surely forty-nine was too young to be a grandma? ‘How do you feel about becoming a grand … parent?’
‘You were about to say “grandfather”, weren’t you?’
‘No!’
‘It’s okay.’ Sofia squeezed Flick’s hand. ‘You’ve been so great and so supportive, but I don’t expect you not to slip up occasionally, and we have plenty of time to decide what Zoe and Beau’s baby will call us.’
Slip up? Flick never slipped up. As hard as the last four years had been, she’d done everything she could to be there for Sofia and that meant working hard to use the right pronouns and call her by her new name. Not wanting to get into an argument right now, she took another sip of her drink only to discover it was empty. ‘So what are our options?’
‘Granny? Nanna? Nonna?’
‘I’ll be Granny.’ Who’d ever have thought she’d be fighting over the terms ‘Granny’ and ‘Nanna’ with her former husband?
‘I guess that leaves me with Nanna? Nonna would probably be a little weird, considering I haven’t got an ounce of Italian blood in my body.’
Flick laughed. ‘So, what’s new in your world?’
‘Um … nothing much.’ Sofia’s eyebrows twitched.
‘Really?’ Flick hadn’t been married to her for almost twenty-two years not to be able to tell when she was holding back. She raised one of her own less tidy eyebrows. ‘What’s going on?’
Sofia sighed and reached for her drink. ‘It’s … look, I’m not sure now’s the right time to tell you, but there is something I need to talk to you about. Are you busy tomorrow? Maybe we could catch up for a coffee?’
Flick frowned. ‘Why can’t you tell me now?’
‘I-It’s just …’ Sofia’s voice trailed off.
God, don’t tell me she’s decided to transition back to …
Don’t be stupid!
How could she even think such a thought after all they’d been through these past four years? This wasn’t like putting on one outfit and deciding you’d rather wear something else. She knew that … at least intellectually, but sometimes, deep down in her heart, Flick couldn’t help wishing she could go back to easier times.
Maybe she’d been too quick to end things between them? Maybe she simply needed more time to wrap her head around a new way of being married? It wasn’t like they’d completely been banished from each other’s lives. Even after being separated for so long, they saw each other frequently and Sofia was still her closest friend.
‘Well, out with it then,’ Flick said. ‘Seriously, there’s nothing you can say that would shock me anymore.’
‘Okay.’ Sofia took a quick sip of her champagne. ‘I’ve started seeing someone.’
Except. Maybe. That.
‘That’s … Wow.’ Flick glanced longingly at her glass. ‘What’s her … name?’
‘Actually … his name is Mike. We work together.’
Flick opened her mouth, but no words came out.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I …’
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ boomed the DJ. ‘It’s time to send our stunning bride and handsome groom off into the night.’
Whoops and cheers erupted all around and Flick shot up from her seat, welcoming the excuse to get away from Sofia.
‘However, before that, there’s just one final thing we have to do. It’s time for Emma to throw her bouquet. Everyone except the unmarried gals off the dance floor, please,’ the DJ motioned with his hands, ‘so we can get this game started.’
It’s not a game. It’s a stupid outdated tradition.
Saying that, at least it gave her an excuse to leave before Sofia said anything more about her new man. As the young single women formed a group in the middle of the dance floor, Flick pressed a hand against her stomach to stop the queasy feeling. Thank God the evening was almost over.
‘Is that everyone?’ called the DJ.
‘No!’ Zoe shrieked from across the other side of the room. ‘What about you, Mum?’
Flick shook her head as her daughter made a beeline for her, arms outstretched.
‘Come on, you’re single,’ she said, grabbing hold of Flick’s hand and tugging her towards the gaggle of women. At the same time, Beau—clearly finding this whole situation hilarious—made a big show of pushing Sofia onto the dance floor as well.
Were they for real? Did they think this was funny?
‘No no no no no no no,’ Flick protested loudly, but her friends and family refused to accept her resistance. Her protests were only prolonging the agony, so she gave a reluctant nod and stood among the other women, willing this stupidity, this whole damn day to be over.
‘Okay, could I ask our lovely bride to join me,’ requested the DJ.
Emma, glowing as all brides should, made her way to the front, the diamantes on the bodice of her sleek gown glittering under the lights. Following the DJ’s instructions, she turned her back to the group of single women, slowly raised her bouquet of beautiful fresh frangipanis and hurled it over her head. Mayhem erupted and Flick jumped out of the way as the scrum of bodies scrambled for the bouquet. Due to Emma’s terrible throw, it landed wide of the young women, right in front of Sofia. She blinked as if bemused, then stooped to pick it up as everyone around her began to shriek with delight.
Everyone except Flick.
‘Congratulations,’ Emma said, glancing nervously at her as she kissed Sofia’s cheek.
‘Looks like you’ll be next.’ The DJ winked. ‘I wonder who the lucky guy will be?’
Oh my God! As an image of Sofia’s wedding landed in Flick’s head, all the hurt and shock she’d been desperately trying to hide since her ex’s declaration erupted within her.
Tears cascaded down her cheeks and sobs heaved in her throat as she turned and fled towards the bathroom. She’d barely been there ten seconds, hadn’t even had the chance to lock herself in a cubicle, when the door flung open and in rushed Emma and Neve, just in time to see her vomit the expensive dinner and champagne into the toilet bowl.
‘Oh my God!’ they exclaimed in unison.
‘Please don’t tell me it’s the catering?’ Emma said. ‘I recently read this book where all the wedding guests got food poisoning!’
‘Not. The. Food,’ Flick tried to reassure her, but she wasn’t sure her words were decipherable.
While she heaved into the bowl, Neve held back her hair, rubbed her back, and made sympathetic noises.
‘I’m sorry,’ Flick said, when she was finally done. She emerged into the main bathroom area, took the proffered paper towel from Emma and dabbed it against her eyes.
