‘Have you told Mom and Dad?’ Ethan asked.
‘Yeah, and they’re all for it. Mom’s really glad that the house will stay in the family.’
‘Well, that’s great news,’ Marian said, raising her glass again.
As Romy clinked glasses with Kit, she thought how glad she was that he had come back into her life and how much both their lives had changed for the better because of it. If Kit hadn’t crashed out of that tree on Hallowe’en, they wouldn’t all be here now. She would never have met Ethan. The thought made her shudder. Kit and Danny wouldn’t have each other, and Kit would most likely still be living a lie, keeping his family at arm’s length and sleepwalking through a life that he didn’t even realise made him unhappy. Thank God they had found each other again.
Everyone was so much happier now that everything was out in the open – no more secrets. Well … except one. And suddenly she knew she didn’t want to have any secrets from these people anymore.
‘There’s something I want to tell you,’ she said, catching her mother’s eye. From the way her smile faded, she could tell her mother knew it was something serious.
‘Is this about Luke’s father?’ she asked.
Romy felt Ethan stiffen beside her. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I’m ever going to find out who he is.’ If she was honest, she didn’t really want to find out. Ethan loved Luke, and she couldn’t imagine a better father for her child. She hated the thought of someone turning up to take Ethan’s place in their little impromptu family, and she knew he dreaded it too.
‘It’s about Dad,’ she said, and she felt Ethan relax again. ‘I was there the day he died.’
‘Yes, I know. You found him.’
‘No. I was there when he died. He was alive when I arrived at the house that day.’
Suddenly everyone at the table was very still. Her mouth was dry, but she forced herself to continue.
‘I knew he was on his own in the house, so I called in to check on him. You had a meeting with your editor, remember?’ she said to her mother.
She had gone upstairs and found him in his bedroom, lying on the bed. She could tell from one glance that he was in agony, his face tense and contorted, his body rigid as if trying to hold the pain away from him by sheer force of will. She had sat on the bed beside him, stroking his hair, trying to help him relax. She had asked if there was anything he wanted. And he had told her.
‘He was in so much pain. He was in agony. He – he asked me to help him.’
She heard her mother’s gasp, Danny’s whispered, ‘Jesus!’, but she kept her eyes lowered. It was the only way she could get through this.
‘He asked you to help him how?’ Kit asked.
‘He was dying,’ she said, her voice shaky, ‘and he asked me to help him.’ She looked into his eyes, willing him to understand, to not make her say the words.
Then his eyes widened. ‘He wanted you to … help him die?’
‘He told me where the pills were, downstairs in the dresser. He asked me to make him a mug of coffee and crush them all into it.’
‘Oh my God, Romy!’ Marian’s hand flew to her throat. ‘What did you do?’
Romy took a deep breath, steadying herself as a fat tear rolled down her cheek. ‘Nothing,’ she said finally. ‘I did nothing.’
For minutes, she had simply sat, numb with horror, pins and needles of fear prickling her skin as her father had begged and pleaded with her. He had clutched her arm tightly, his hand claw-like, biting into her skin. He had told her it would be okay – no one would ever know. ‘Yesterday, I could have gone and got the pills myself, but today I don’t have the strength.’ He had cursed himself for not doing it when he had the chance. But no one would know he hadn’t stored the pills up himself when he was able. She could help him and it would be all right. While he had begged and wheedled, Romy had just kept shaking her head silently, tears spilling down her cheeks.
‘I couldn’t do it,’ she said, her eyes welling up with tears. ‘He was screaming with the pain, and he looked at me like—’ she gulped ‘—like he hated me. But I couldn’t do what he wanted.’
While she spoke, her eyes drifted around the table and the look on Ethan’s face caused her to falter. He looked stunned – almost like he was in shock. He certainly wasn’t taking her revelation calmly. She turned away from him in confusion. She knew she wouldn’t be able to continue if she looked at him.
When she refused, her father had become angry. He had cursed her, told her to fuck off if she wasn’t going to help him, the little energy he had left lighting the spark of fury in his eyes and fuelling the venomous words he had spat at her. ‘We’ve talked about this,’ he’d said. ‘I thought I could rely on you. Why are you being so stupid and irrational now when you’ve always agreed with me about this?’ Romy thought back to the discussions they used to have over Sunday lunch. They had talked about this. Had she agreed with him? She couldn’t remember. But it didn’t matter because then it was just an idea. The reality was altogether different and every sinew and synapse of her being rejected it.
Eventually, she couldn’t bear it any longer and she had prised his hand off her, running to the door. In the doorway, she had turned and looked back at him, and the bitterness and contempt in his face had chilled her to the core. She had left the room, closed the door behind her and run down the stairs as if something was chasing her. She didn’t know how long she had sat in the kitchen, hugging herself as she had cried, her whole body shaking.
Finally, the tears had subsided and she got up and put on the kettle. She had pulled out one of the drawers and the bottle of pills was there where he had said it would be. She had picked it up, reading the label, the warnings against exceeding the stated dose. Then she had tossed it back in the drawer, wiped her eyes and made two mugs of coffee while she gathered her courage to face him again. She couldn’t do what he wanted, but she could at least be with him. She shouldn’t leave him alone at a time like this, no matter what he had said to her. She had made her way back upstairs, dreading the hope she might see in his eyes when he saw the mug, perhaps thinking she had changed her mind and was going to help him after all.
‘When I went back up, he—’ she gulped ‘—he was dead.’
She chanced another glance at Ethan, but she couldn’t see his eyes. He was frowning down at the floor. She wished she knew what he was thinking. She felt panic build up inside her, sure that somehow she was losing him, but not knowing why. She blinked tears from her eyes, and discovered she was shaking. Maybe Ethan felt it too, because he reached out and rubbed her back lightly. She wished he would take her in his arms, but he seemed almost absent.
‘Oh, Romy!’ Her mother’s eyes sparkled with tears. ‘I’m so sorry. He should never have asked you to do that. But you didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing to blame yourself for.’
‘He died all alone,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I just shut the door and left him there because I was too much of a coward, and he died alone when he shouldn’t have.’
‘You don’t regret it, do you – not doing what he wanted?’
‘No,’ she whispered. She knew she couldn’t have lived with that.
‘Well, he wouldn’t have wanted you to do anything you’d regret. And he knew he could count on you to be strong. I think that’s why he asked you – because he trusted you completely.’
‘But he was wrong, wasn’t he? I let him down.’
‘No, he wasn’t wrong. I don’t mean that he could trust you to do what he wanted. I mean he could trust you not to.’
‘You didn’t see his face – the way he looked at me.’
‘He was in so much pain, Romy – he wasn’t in his right mind. We’ll never know for sure what he was thinking, but I do know that he loved you. And he knew you could stand up to him. He never asked me, and I was the obvious person. Danny?’ She looked at her son questioningly.
‘No,’ Danny shook his head.
‘Do you think if he’d live
d longer, he’d have forgiven me?’ Romy asked, wiping away the tears that were now streaming from her eyes.
‘I don’t think he’d feel there was anything to forgive. He would only want you to be true to yourself, and you were. The real question is do you forgive him?’
Romy was caught off guard by her mother’s question. She hadn’t consciously realised it herself until now, but she knew immediately that her mother was right. It wasn’t so much that she was afraid her father died hating her for refusing to help him. She had hated him for asking her. She resented him for burdening her with all that guilt, for pushing her into running away. But he had been deranged with pain – he hadn’t been himself. If he had had time, he would have forgiven her. Well, she had time …
She nodded, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. ‘I do. I forgive him.’
Ethan seemed agitated and preoccupied for the rest of the evening, and Romy could tell he was anxious for their guests to go. As soon as everyone had left he shot up and disappeared into the bedroom without a word. When she had cleared the table, Romy followed him. She felt completely drained by the evening’s events, but she had to talk to him. She needed to know why he reacted so strangely to her story.
The door of the bedroom was open, and Ethan was kneeling on the floor, rooting through one of the packing boxes.
‘Sorry,’ she said, leaning against the door jamb. ‘That was a bit heavy for Sunday dinner.’
He glanced up and smiled at her absently, almost not seeing her.
‘I’ll learn some jokes for next time.’
He stood and came over to her. ‘Sorry I sort of zoned out back there,’ he said, pulling her into his arms. There was something strange, almost quizzical, in his eyes as he looked at her – as if he was seeing her for the first time, trying to figure her out. ‘Come here,’ he said, pulling away and taking her hand. ‘I want to show you something.’
She let him lead her to the bed. ‘Wait here,’ he said, pushing her down onto it. ‘I have to find it first.’ He planted a soft kiss on her forehead before returning to the boxes.
The room was even more of a mess than before. A couple of boxes were already open, their contents spilling onto the floor, and now he was on his knees again, rummaging through a third, flinging random bits of jumble in every direction – PlayStation games, scarves and belts, shoes that flew through the air and landed with a thud on the carpet.
‘Damn,’ he mumbled to himself, ‘it must be in here somewhere. Unless Mom …’
Romy sat on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees, and wondered what the hell was going on. ‘Can I help?’she asked. ‘If I knew what we were looking for …’ She trailed off as a long black leather glove landed at her feet.
Then Ethan’s frantic movements stopped suddenly. He unfolded himself from the floor and turned to her with something in his hand. Romy stood as he came towards her, not meeting her eyes, looking down instead at what he was holding. She noticed his hand was trembling slightly as he held it out to her.
‘Is this yours?’ he asked softly.
Romy saw her own hand shaking as she reached out to touch it. She didn’t need to inspect it, she already knew what it was – the mask she had worn to David’s Hallowe’en party. She gasped, and cupped a hand to her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears as she sank back down on the bed. She looked at Ethan and nodded. ‘It was you,’ she whispered.
‘When you were talking about what happened the night your father died … I’d heard that story before.’
‘You were at David’s party? You’re—’
‘Darth Vader.’
‘I didn’t think you knew David.’ Then she gasped. ‘You and Katie—’
‘Oh, yeah.’ He rubbed the back of his neck, squirming uncomfortably. ‘I met her at an MSF fundraiser. She did a lot of charity work.’
They were talking in breathless murmurs, skirting around the main issue because it was too overwhelming to take it all in at once.
‘I thought I’d never find you.’
‘You wanted to find me?’
Romy nodded. ‘So much.’
Because now that she had, she knew it was true. Even when she didn’t know who he was, she had always wanted to find him. ‘I’m so glad it’s you,’ she said, looking up at him, her eyes shining with tears.
‘I’m glad it’s me too,’ Ethan said hoarsely, his own eyes filling with moisture.
He pulled her up into his arms and drew a ragged breath. ‘You called your baby Luke,’ he began, a catch in his voice.
‘It seemed appropriate.’
‘Romy, does this mean what I think it means? Luke—’
She nodded. ‘He’s yours,’ she sniffed.
‘We used protection.’
She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t always work.’
‘I’m so sorry. If I’d known … He’s really mine?’
Romy nodded. ‘You’re a dad.’
Ethan swiped away his tears with the heels of his hands. But if she’d been in any doubt about how he felt, the big goofy grin that split his face in two put her mind at rest.
She grinned back at him through her tears. ‘This is good news, then?’
‘The best. You know how much I love you both. I wanted to be a father to Luke anyway. But this—’ He broke off, shaking his head wonderingly. ‘I just wish …’
‘What?’
‘I wish I could have been there from the start. I wish I could have been with you when you were pregnant,’ he said, reaching out and lightly touching her belly. ‘I wish I could have seen him the day he was born.’
‘I know. But you can be there all the days from now on.’
‘What if we’d never—’ Ethan gulped. He didn’t finish the thought, but she knew what he was thinking.
‘But we did,’ she said soothingly. ‘Come on, ’ she touched his hand. ‘Let’s go and tell him.’
They tiptoed down the corridor to the room where Luke was sleeping and stood on either side of the cot, gazing adoringly at him – their son – as he snuffled in his sleep, oblivious to the momentous goings-on around him.
‘Say it,’ Romy whispered, smiling across at Ethan as he leaned on the cot, resting his chin on his hands.
He smiled back at her. ‘Should I do the voice?’
‘No!’ she hissed. ‘Don’t do the voice.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’ll freak him out.’
‘But he’s asleep.’
Oh, all right then. Do the voice if you want.’
Ethan took an unsteady breath, but when his voice came out it was shaky and nothing like an intergalactic warlord’s.
‘Luke,’ he said, ‘I am your father.’
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