One Day in May - Catherine Alliott [142]
‘No, never myself,’ I said fiercely, fists clenched. ‘I couldn’t have cared less what they said about me, wrote about me. But Dom—’
‘You loved very much. And his memory. Seffy would say more than him. A greater love.’
I hung my head. ‘Not true,’ I whispered. ‘No one ever more than Seffy. But with each passing day it became so much harder. So impossible to do a U-turn once I’d told him he was adopted.’
‘So why did you do that?’ I swung round at the voice. Seffy was standing in the doorway behind us, white-faced.
‘Oh, Seffy.’ I got up and stumbled towards him. He backed away, hands up, stopping the traffic. His eyes were hard and narrow. Impenetrable.
‘No, Mum, I want to know. Why did you?’
‘Darling, look—’
‘Just tell me.’
My breathing was very erratic now and I wondered if I’d faint. I groped for my stool behind me. Sat down. I knew this was very important. The truth. I gave myself a moment.
‘Because that was the lie I’d told since you were born. That I’d adopted you in Croatia. That was what everyone thought – Granny, Grandpa, Laura, all my friends. And I knew, when you were about six, that should have been the moment to tell everyone. Let them know I was about to tell you the truth, that there was something they should know. But I lost my nerve. Found myself telling you what they all thought, instead.’
‘That you’d adopted me. You denied you’d even given birth to me. Thanks, Hattie.’
I gazed at him in horror.
‘Well, I’ve called you Mum for fifteen years. Maybe now I’ll call you Hattie, when in fact you’re my mother.’
There was a warped logic to this, I couldn’t deny.
‘Every day I thought I’d tell you,’ I whispered. ‘I swear to God, Seffy, not a day went by when I didn’t consider it. I thought I’d tell you when you were ten, then eleven. Thought you’d be old enough to understand why I’d done it. But as time went by, I knew you’d understand less. I’d done such a terrible thing, and it was getting bigger with every passing moment.’
‘It defines me, Mum.’ Seffy’s voice trembled. His face was ashen. ‘Knowing who my parents are. It defines everyone. It’s so basic, so fundamental. You denied me that.’
‘I’ll go,’ Hal said quietly. I’d forgotten he was there.
‘No, stay, please,’ said Seffy. ‘I don’t want to be alone with her.’
The wound in my chest erupted and gushed through my insides, flooding me. I felt my frame crumple as I hid my face in my hands.
‘Seffy,’ began Hal, ‘you have no idea how much interest you would have attracted. Will still attract, if you—’
‘Come out of the closet?’ Seffy turned on him. ‘Why shouldn’t I – of course I will! Today’s papers are tomorrow’s fish-and-chip wrappings; why should prurient press interest be more important than me knowing who I am?’ His eyes were blazing. ‘Knowing I have a real mother, a dead father, a sister in Cassie – who was horrified, incidentally—’
‘You told her.’ My hands fell from my face.
‘Of course I told her. I got to know her, gradually, then we talked for hours in the woods at the dance.’
Which was why he hadn’t made it back to the coach on time. They weren’t snogging at all. Were talking about being brother and sister. About sharing the same father.
‘Seffy, I’m so sorry.’ My voice came from somewhere very distant. Very dark. ‘And I’m sorry that that is so inadequate.’ My stomach had turned to ashes long ago. The silence ached between us.
‘It’s a start,’ said my son, at length. ‘Any sort of apology is a start.’
Oh, thank God. A tiny shard of light. He turned away, though, seeing the hope in my eyes.
‘And talking has helped. To Hal. To Cassie. I hated you, Mum, more than you can ever imagine, a year ago. But listening to Hal, and more recently Cassie, who could see…’ He hesitated. ‘Well, she could sort of see, although she didn’t condone it, how it had happened.’
I exhaled through barely parted lips. Oh, bless you, Cassie. Sweet, sensitive Cassie. I dug my nails into the palms of my hands. Don’t speak. Don’t hope.
‘Or at least, she could see how hard it was, once you’d started down a path,