Her mother stared at her, and then she’d smiled, ‘Maybe that’s true. But you’ve been seeing Seb for quite a while, so why couldn’t he be the father?’
She’d fired back, ‘You hate him.’
There was a short pause, before she answered. ‘I don’t hate him. I just wouldn’t want him as the father of my granddaughter.’
‘Well, that’s what I thought, but fortunately, he’s going to be the father of someone else’s child.’ That response had come out of the blue, but it was enough to throw her mother off the scent. ‘What do you mean?’
She’d said, ‘He’s getting married.’
Her mother looked disconcerted. ‘So his bride is pregnant?’
‘I have no idea. She could be for all I know. I was just talking theoretically.’ By this time, she just wanted her mother to shut up, but she didn’t shut up. She went right on with her questions. ‘But I’d assumed you and Seb had made up.’
‘What gave you that idea?’
‘You went to Greece not long ago. Didn’t you?’
‘Not to see him. I was in Athens, doing the tourist bit.’
‘Well, surely you must have some idea of who the father is? It’s unbelievable.’
‘Stop nagging. You’re getting on my nerves.’
‘So when’s the baby due?’
‘In five months, give or take a couple of weeks. I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘I’d be even more pleased if there was a father around.’
‘So you keep saying. Isn’t this a case of history repeating itself?’
‘And what’s that mean?’
‘It means that at the time you had me, there was no sign of my father. You told me. Remember? He tracked you down after I was born.’
‘That’s because he didn’t know I was pregnant, because I hadn’t told him. I knew he was the father.’ Her mother sounded defensive. They glared at each other. ‘Look, Nixie, I am a little upset, for the baby’s sake, but I’m also pleased for you. When will you know whether it’s a boy or a girl?’
‘At the next ultrasound.’
‘Do you have a preference?’
‘No. Boy or girl. I really don’t mind.’ And with that, she’d refused to discuss the subject any longer, even when her mother tried to broach the issue again.
She glanced out of the window. There was still no sign of her mother. But waiting around for her was making her edgy. If she did ask any further questions, she’d say the situation was as before, she had no idea, and what’s more she wasn’t concerned. She was pleased she’d had a healthy, beautiful baby and that was enough. She walked over to Dora and gazed down at her.
Seb didn’t yet know about the baby’s birth. She’d tell him after her mother had gone. That had been another awkward conversation. When she’d told him she was pregnant with a little girl and that he was the father, his reaction unsettled her almost as much as her mother’s response. For a start, he’d taken the news so calmly, it was as if he expected it. Either that or he didn’t care. She’d asked him if he was shocked.
‘Shocked?’ He’d said, ‘No, why should I be, we weren’t exactly careful, were we?’
She’d paused thinking maybe he’d split up with Zanthe, perhaps hoping he’d say no, but that’s when he’d told her they were getting married.’ She’d said, ‘Really? How sweet. You getting married – are you having me on?’
‘It’s what she wants and what her parents want.’
When she’d asked, ‘So what about the baby?’ he hadn’t answered and for one awful moment, she thought he’d put the phone down. But he hadn’t gone. He said he was thinking. He’d told her that he loved Zanthe but he wanted to do the right thing. He’d said, ‘I’ll come and visit when the baby’s born.’
A flash of anger passed through her, but she restrained herself, enough to sound calm and said mildly, ‘Is that all?’
‘What else can I do?’
That was when she pointed out that he had responsibilities. His answer angered her even more. He said, ‘I want you to keep our relationship and the baby a secret, for the sake of Zanthe and her family. Can you do that?’
Still keeping her temper, she’d replied, ‘Keeping a secret –so what’s new. But for you, anything.’
‘You sound bitter.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘What are you saying?’
She’d given it to him straight, ‘I’m thinking of the baby’s future, and you as the father.’
‘And…?’
‘You have financial responsibilities for a start.’
‘I can accept that. It’s not a problem. But my condition remains. What’s gone on between the two of us, has to be secret.’
‘So I can never tell her who her father is? Is that what you really want?’
‘Well, that’s harsh, but I’ll face that problem when and if it comes. People and circumstances change, so who knows what the future will bring?’
That reference to their relationship had both upset and intrigued her. She’d said, ‘What about us?’ and he’d answered, ‘It remains as it is.’
‘Which is?’
‘You know exactly what it is, Nixie.’
‘I don’t.’
‘And neither do I and that’s about it and how it’s always been. But… now and again, maybe we can meet up, don’t you think?’
‘Do you care about me, Seb?’
‘I do, more than you’ll ever understand and…I’m pleased about the baby. In fact, if we were together, I’d make love to you.’
‘But soon you’ll be married man…’
‘So what,’ he’d said, ‘I’m still the same.’
‘You need the excitement of the forbidden.’
‘Always, and who better than you to give me that.’
That had been the end of their conversation. It had left her totally stirred up. As she stood thinking back to that, Dora’s eyes opened, her face reddened and puckered, and waving her small fists in the air, she began wailing. It grew stronger and louder by each second. Nixie walked across and held her close, before sitting down to feed her. The baby’s eyes closed with satisfaction. Her small hands clenched Nixie’s finger. Nixie idly separated each of her fingers as she lay in her arms.
The little finger on both hands had a noticeable curve. Where had she seen that before? It reminded her of something said to her. She paused; it had been the doctor. The one she’d seen when she’d first thought she was pregnant. She’d asked how she would know who the father was. Dredging back into her memory, the conversation gradually filtered back into her consciousness. The doctor had said that if the baby shared any distinguishing features with someone else, that could indicate who the father was.
She went cold. The only person she knew with a curved little finger, was Mike. That could mean only one thing. Mike was the father of Dora − not Seb. She took a deep breath. She willed herself to stay calm. She stared into space. She was shocked, unsure how she could cope. Maybe she’d got it wrong, maybe she’d misheard what the doctor had said, maybe the doctor was wrong.
She waited until Dora finished feeding then put her down in her crib and walked across to the window. She prayed her mother hadn’t arrived. She needed time to think things through, but she was there, in the car park, standing by her car, holding a large bouquet of flowers. She had to pull herself together. She was sure to ask her again; can you remember now? Who is Dora’s father?
She’d planned to say, it’s the same as before, I don’t know, but now the words would stick in her throat. She did know, but she couldn’t tell the truth − the father of Dora was Mike. She had to say something, something convincing. What could she say? What should she say? She sat down, tweaking a lock of hair through her fingers thinking through the implications.
The truth was hard. A lie was easy. She came to
a decision. She would say things were just the same, she didn’t know. Lies had always come easily to her. It was what she did. It would be one of many. She’d lived long enough in the parallel universe of truth and lies to know the territory well. She was good at it.
Seb would carry on thinking that Dora was conceived on Spetses. Zanthe would never know that she, Nixie had had a daughter, and that Seb believed he was the father. Mike would always assume Seb was the father. And she’d tell her mother, as she’d said before, I don’t know who the father is.
Each of them would know a partial truth, based on what she wanted them to believe, or what they thought they knew. But only she knew the whole truth, and if she chose to lie about that, it wasn’t really a lie. It was what she wanted, so she was being true to herself. She was being authentic, just as Seb had said. The truth would be a secret she’d carry with her for as long as it suited her and for as long as her luck held out. But what of Dora? She smiled to herself, and whispered to the baby, ‘One day, I’ll take you to meet your daddy.’
If you enjoyed reading my books please consider writing a review on Amazon or Good Reads. You may also be interested in visiting my website www.margueritev.org which I endeavour to regularly update and where you can also sign up to receive news about my forthcoming writing.
Acknowledgements
My thanks to all who continue to show an interest in my writing, especially Richard Grove for my website, the formatting and cover of ‘Truth and Lies’, to Richard Pearce for his invaluable advice on the political references to the UK and Greece, and to Anne Russell on issues of continuity. Jay Dixon’s work as editor was, as ever, superb and any mistakes that might remain are wholly my own.
Also by Marguerite Valentine
‘Between the Shadow and the Soul’
A story about the conflicts of love and friendship, Flori is an attractive, successful young woman living in London when in a moment of madness, she steals a tiny baby. Calling for help from her best friend, Rose is forced to face the consequences of Flori’s traumatic history.
‘It was very gripping. The main character and her state of mind was particularly well developed, in a way that I still have a clear image of her. Looking forward for the next books!’
(Amazon customer)
‘My name is Echo’
Echo is growing up. She’s sharp, quirky and funny but life is a problem, especially her relationships with men.. Written in her own words, this is a magical tale of desire, fantasy and revenge.
‘Echo is the compelling and exciting story of a young girl with a troubled relationship with her mother, and an absent father ,who gradually learns to recognise and accept love. Highly recommended!’
(Amazon customer)
Contents
Truth and Lies
Part 1
— 1 —
— 2 —
— 3 —
— 4 —
— 5 —
— 6 —
— 7 —
— 8 —
— 9 —
— 10 —
— 11 —
— 12 —
— 13 —
— 14 —
— 15 —
— 16 —
Part 2
— 17 —
— 18 —
— 19 —
— 20 —
— 21 —
— 22 —
— 23 —
Acknowledgements
Also by Marguerite Valentine
Truth and Lies Page 29