Secrecyby Belva Plain, Cherry Jones
A compelling story filled with Belva Plain's signature storytelling genius, Secrecy is a novel about layers of hidden truths and an unspoken subject: rape. It focuses on three women: the mother of the teenage girl who was raped, the mother of the boy who committed the crime, and the girl herself, who becomes a brilliant architect. When her first major project is abruptly halted, exposing long-dormant secrets and deceptions, the lives of many people will be forever changed.
With her extraordinary narrative abilities and her finger on the pulse of contemporary issues, Belva Plain once again has produced a provocative, powerful new novel.
Charlotte Dawes is raped at 14 by her cousin-by-marriage, the randy Ted, son of her uncle Cliff's new wife, Claudia, whose first husband was shot inwhere else?Chicago. When Charlotte becomes pregnant, then, her father and her romantic adventuress mother are wild with rage. Both are beside their daughter's bedside as she recovers from an operation for a ruptured tubal pregnancy. In the meantime, Ted continues to assault women and is finally arrested and indicted for rape and kidnapping. Home on bail, he escapes in the night. (Reports from abroad of Ted-sightings occur now and then.) Skip to Manhattan eight years later, where adult Charlotte works for an architectural firm. She loves her work but despairs of forming a firm relationship with a man, sex-shy as she is. She designs for her own pleasure a "public square" fit for the Dawes's now shuttered mill. Unfortunately, her family has inadvertently leased the mill to a polluting waste-disposal firm, to the anger of the town and the despair of the Daweses. Then Charlotte meets the dashing Roger Heywood, whose family deals in commercial real estate. Roger is not only able to come up with the ready cash to finance Charlotte's project, but (of course) coaxes her out of her trauma-related fear of sex. Finally, Claudia, trading on her late husband's mob connections, talks a boss out of retaining the mill. Looks like smooth sailing for the lovers, but disaster threatens again in the form of a flood and a potential terrible discovery.
Plain Plain (Promises, 1986, etc.), but nonetheless name- anointed for success.
San Francisco Chronicle
"Belva Plain is in a class by herself."
The New York Times
"A superb storyteller... A talent worth remembering... Mrs. Plain's novels are good stories well told."
The Star-Ledger (Newark, N.J.)
- Random House Audio Publishing Group
- Publication date:
- Edition description:
- Abridged, 4 Cassettes, 6 hrs.
- Product dimensions:
- 4.13(w) x 7.01(h) x 1.17(d)
Read an Excerpt
A door slammed so hard that the glass prisms on the hall light clashed in alarm. Someone very angry had either gone into a room or had left it. Then silence, thick and ominous, fell back. When the silence began to ring, Charlotte pulled the pillow around her ears.
They were arguing again. But they would get over it as they always did. After a while her mother, who was undoubtedly the one who had slammed the door, would quiet down. She wondered whether other people's parents lived like this.
"Childish," said Emmabrown, talking to her nephew the mailman at the front door. "Charlotte's fourteen, and she has more sense in her little finger than her mother has in her whole body."
Emmabrownthat being the name Charlotte herself had bestowedwas proud of her connection with the family; she had kept house for three generations of the Daweses, and liked to talk about their affairs. Dad was her favorite. On the telephone while Charlotte eavesdropped, she grumbled and boasted to her friends.
"I knew Bill and Cliff when those two boys were learning to talk. Bill was the smart one, good natured, too, a real pleasure. So then he goes to Europe one summer for some studies, Lord knows why you have to go there to study, but anyway he did, and comes home three months later married to this Elena, she just twenty and he twenty-two. Kids, they were. The family wasn't too happy about it, either, I can tell you. The one good thing was she's no gold digger. She's an orphan, left with a pile of money of her own. A real good-looker with a foreign accentItalianand a figure like a movie star. Pretty face too. Big eyes and big smile. You can seewhy he fell for her. She winds him around her little finger."
Did she really? Well, maybe. Dad didn't like to fight with people. Sometimes he didn't even answer back, which made Mama more angry. Mama. People called their mothers Mom, but she wanted to be called Mama, with the accent on the end. Silly. Stubborn. In her private thoughts Charlotte called her Elena.
It was cold, even under the quilt. She could feel the October wind coming through the walls. No, she thought then, it's not coming through the walls; the cold is inside me. It's because I'm scared, although I should be used to all this, shouldn't I?
Now there were voices in the hall, barely loud enough to be heard. Dad's voice rumbled.
"What do I do that you don't like?"
"Nothing? You like everything I do? I take it you like everything about me, then?"
Laughter. "No. Oh, no."
Pause. "Oh, good God, Elena, will you open your mouth and say specifically what's wrong today? Specifically?"
"A lot of things. Nothing. I don't know."
"You really don't know anything, do you?"
"That's true. I don't know anything."
"Well, if you didn't spend all your days at the country club, you might know something. I joined for your sake, but I didn't think you were going to make a second home of the place."
"And what am I supposed to do with myself? Get elected to the Board of Education? And the Committee for the Environment? I'm not you, Bill. Those aren't my thing. I wouldn't fit."
That was true. She wouldn't fit. She not only looked different from most other girls' mothers with their sweaters and moccasins and Jeeps, but she was different. That's probably why she had no friends among the PTA ladies; they didn't like her.
But their husbands do, Charlotte thought, thinking, too, how people would be surprised if they knew how much their children noticed: glances, little greetings on a Saturday morning at the post office or at the school play.
They had gone into their room now, which was just across the hall, yet she was still able to hear. They were assuming that she was asleep.
"Get busy with worthwhile things, Elena, and you'll be happier."
"I'll be happier when I get away from this town, this city, whatever you call it. Of all the places in America, I have to end up in New England in a dying factory town. Fifteen years in this town. 'A country town,' you said, and I imagined something with charm, something like Tuscany, with vineyards and old stone houses. Fifteen years in this place."
"You've been living pretty darn well in this place."
"The winter hasn't even begun and I'm already freezing."
Dad sighed. "Oh, what the hell do you want, Elena?"
"I want to go to Florida, to rent a place for a few months."
"That's ridiculous. Charlotte has school."
"We can get tutors for her there. She'd learn more than she would here in school."
"We'll leave her here with Emmabrown. We could shorten our time to six weeks."
"You know all the trouble we've been having with the business. Anyway, I wouldn't leave her for six weeks, no matter what."
"All right, Bill, I may just go by myself."
"You do that."
Dad's anger had petered out, and he was tired. The door closed.
Maybe now I can sleep, Charlotte thought. Suddenly she remembered to put her hand on her heart and feel whether it was beating faster. It was. It always did, whenever they fought.
Even the night before Uncle Cliff's wedding, they had to fight. Even that day they had to spoil.
From the Audio Cassette edition.
Meet the Author
Belva Plain captured readers' hearts with her first novel, Evergreen, which Delacorte published more than 30 years ago. It topped the New York Times best-seller list for 41 weeks and aired as an NBC-TV miniseries. In total, more than 20 of her books have been New York Times best sellers.
Before becoming a novelist, Belva Plain wrote short stories for many major magazines, but taking care of a husband and three children did not give her the time to concentrate on the novel she had always wanted to write. When she looked back and said she didn't have the time, she felt as though she had been making excuses. In retrospect, she said, "I didn't make the time." But, she reminded us, during the era that she was raising her family, women were supposed to concentrate only on their children. Today 30 million copies of her books are in print.
A Barnard College graduate who majored in history, Belva Plain enjoyed a wonderful marriage of more than 40 years to Irving Plain, an ophthalmologist. Widowed for more than 25 years, Ms. Plain continued to reside in New Jersey, where she and her husband had raised their family and which was still home to her nearby children and grandchildren until her death in October 2010.
- Date of Birth:
- October 9, 1915
- Date of Death:
- October 12, 2010
- Place of Birth:
- New York, New York
- Place of Death:
- Short Hills, New Jersey
- B.A., Barnard College
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Hi bloodmoon and whos this
Hehe. Sorry. Hes just beimg curious. Whenever Im on hes always happy to see me. He likes to stick to my side and be with me. And thank you Coldstar and good luck with Lastclan!
This book revolved around the secrets of a family. Each person's secret affected everyone. It was an enjoyable book to read and was pleased with the ending.
I received this book and when I got around to read it, lo and behold, it started on Page 45. I am trying to piece together what lead up to this Page 45. Very disappointed!
Totally not what I expected when I picked this book up, but it turned out to be a great read. The bonds of blood can make us do the things we never thought possible or go to extremes for loved ones. I definitely reccomend this book to everyone.
I enjoyed this book very much. I thought the characters were believable, and the plot interesting. There were some slow moments. Charlotte was not unlike many young women who find themselves pregnant...and 14. I especially enjoyed the way the story ended...with a sudden surprise, that caught me off guard. JK