by Helen Warner
‘I know what’s happened to you.’ Amy rubbed Emily’s back gently. ‘You have a son who’s been very, very ill. That’s what’s happened to you. It must be the hardest thing imaginable to have to watch him suffer…’ Amy broke off, contemplating the horror of what Emily had been through. ‘Everyone would struggle with it. Regardless of how tough you are. But the good news is that he’s had the treatment and he will get better. You have to hold on to the positives, Emily. He’s going to be OK.’
‘No,’ Emily said, without looking up. ‘He’s not.’
Amy’s insides lurched. There was something about Emily’s tone that frightened her. ‘But… I thought… I thought he was in remission?’
Emily shook her head. ‘I thought so too. But the chemo hasn’t worked. It’s not enough. He needs a bone-marrow transplant.’
Amy sat back in shock, unable to speak for several seconds, as a million thoughts ran through her head. ‘But he’ll get one, right? Everyone can be tested… you, your mum and dad… someone’s bound to be a match.’
Slowly, wearily, as if the effort was almost too much for her, Emily lifted her head. ‘He needs a sibling.’
‘Oh.’ Amy nodded slowly, as understanding dawned. She could see why Emily was reluctant. It would involve getting back in touch with Anton and persuading him to get his two daughters tested. ‘Well,’ she said finally, trying to sound upbeat, ‘at least he’s got two siblings. It would be so much worse if he didn’t.’
Emily closed her eyes and rested her head against the headboard. She looked defeated.
‘Look,’ Amy began, feeling a tiny prickle of frustration. ‘If you need to get in touch with Anton, that’s what you’ll have to do, Em. If it’s what Jack needs, then you’ll have to bury your own feelings about him. He could be the key to saving Jack’s life.’
‘It’s not that simple, Amy.’
‘No. I can see that but it might be the only option.’ Amy tried to think furiously if there was any other way around it. But there didn’t seem to be one. Anton’s daughters would have to be tested. ‘Does Anton have to tell them what it’s for? Maybe he could just say it’s for an old friend’s son and he wants to help?’
Emily shook her head despondently. Then she opened her eyes and fixed Amy with a look of utter despair. ‘You don’t understand.’
Amy frowned, feeling wounded. ‘I do understand, Em. I understand that you don’t want anything to do with Anton after what happened, but he’s Jack’s father. I’m sure he’d want to do whatever he could to help.’
Emily closed her eyes again. ‘You don’t understand, Amy.’ There was a long pause as Emily took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Anton isn’t Jack’s father.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Melissa stepped out of the shower and reached for the fluffy white towel hanging over the heated towel rail. She wrapped it around herself and peered into the giant mirror above the sink, examining her skin. She was starting to get crows’ feet and a few lines. Maybe she needed to start looking after her skin a bit better.
‘Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.’ Mark emerged naked from the bedroom and wrapped his arms around her, smiling at their joint reflection.
Melissa held his sleepy-eyed gaze, wishing she could turn off the feelings she had for him. Amy was right. She had fallen for him hook, line and sinker. And worse – he knew it. She so desperately wanted to play hard to get. To make him work harder for her. But she just didn’t know how.
She had never been one of those women who could play it cool. All her life she had lurched from one bed to another, searching for love and affection, always hoping that sex would fill the void. But it never had. Until now. Mark was different. Yes, theirs was a very highly sexual relationship but she did feel loved by him too.
She tried to ignore that he was so much older than her and that maybe he was some kind of substitute father-figure. That was just too weird. No, she loved him in anything but a fatherly way. ‘Good morning. You’re up early. For you.’
Mark’s velvety chocolate-brown eyes crinkled in amusement. ‘We could go back to bed if you want…?’
‘No!’ Melissa turned in his arms so that she was facing him. ‘We need to make sure we’re there on time today. It’ll give Sophie a nice surprise that you’re not two hours late like you normally are.’
Mark bent and kissed her on the top of her nose. ‘I always think being late is very thoughtful. It means your loved ones never have to worry about you if you’re not there on time.’
‘Oh, really? And am I one of your “loved ones”?’ Melissa rolled her tongue on the word “loved”, hoping to disguise the seriousness of her question.
Mark’s brow furrowed as he pretended to think about it. ‘Um, yes. One of them, anyway.’
Melissa tutted and dodged out of his embrace, striding into the bedroom. She knew he was joking. She just wished he didn’t have the power to hurt her so much.
‘Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?’ Mark followed her into the bedroom and watched her as she sat at the dressing table, smoothing moisturizer onto her cheeks and blinking back tears.
‘Nothing.’
Mark came and sat on the bed. ‘Come on. This isn’t like you. You might as well tell me what’s wrong.’
Melissa looked at him in the reflection of the dressing-table mirror. ‘What are we doing, Mark?’
Mark blinked slowly. ‘We’re having fun. Aren’t we?’ He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly as he asked the question.
Melissa put down the moisturizer. ‘Yes. It’s just…’ She could feel her heart racing as she tried to pluck up the courage to say what she wanted to say. ‘It’s just that I think I might want a bit more than that.’
‘Ah.’ Mark leaned back slightly and nodded. ‘I see.’
There was an awkward silence. Melissa considered filling it by telling him that she was joking. That she had just wanted to see how he’d react but she somehow felt that this was the right moment to find out where she stood. Whether she had any kind of a future with him. ‘What about you, Mark? Do you ever feel that?’
Mark’s eyes slid away from hers. She could almost feel him squirming inside. ‘Um, sometimes. Maybe. I’m not sure.’
Melissa watched him, drinking him in. She really loved him. He made her laugh. He made her feel special. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man. She couldn’t imagine putting an end to whatever it was they had together. But she couldn’t carry on like this either. It would destroy her.
‘I think that answers my question.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper and she couldn’t hold back the tears, as they rolled unstoppably down her face.
Mark came and knelt beside her, wrapping his arms around her, rocking her gently as she cried. ‘Don’t cry, darling. Listen, I love being with you. I think you’re wonderful.’
Melissa nodded and sniffed. He had never told her he loved her. Even now when it was all she needed to hear. ‘I think you’re wonderful too.’
‘Well then, why the tears?’ He stroked her hair tenderly.
‘Because I’m in love with you, Mark. And you’re not in love with me.’
Mark shook his head, looking perplexed. ‘I told you, I love being with you, I really do.’
Melissa gave a half-laugh. ‘I know. But that’s not the same as loving me.’
Mark opened his mouth to speak again but Melissa put a finger to his lips. ‘Don’t just say something you don’t mean, Mark. I know you so well. I understand you. I know that you’re not the type to settle down with one woman. Which is why I have to put a stop to this. I don’t want to. But it’s eating away at me and I have to protect myself.’
‘There’s no need to put a stop to it, darling.’ Mark cupped her face in his hands and gave her a searching look. ‘We’re happy, aren’t we? We have a good time together. Can’t that be enough?’
Melissa smiled. As she did so, she felt him relax. ‘You see?’ he continued, giving his head a tiny shake. ‘Don’t think so
deeply about everything. Let’s just go with the flow and see what happens.’
Melissa leaned forward and kissed his full lips. Then she pulled away and stood up. ‘That’s just not enough for me, Mark. I want marriage. I want babies.’ She almost laughed as she watched his tanned face instantly pale at her words. ‘I want what Sophie has, with a man who loves her as much as she loves him. Don’t worry, I know I’m not going to get that from you. But I need to find a man who will give me that and I’m not going to find him while I’m sleeping with you every night.’
Mark stood up and came towards her. She had never seen him look so sad. ‘I don’t want to lose you. We’re so good together, Melissa.’
Melissa’s heart leapt momentarily. Was this the moment she had waited for? Was he finally going to realize that she was the only woman for him and get down on one knee?
‘But I’d be a terrible husband,’ he said, causing Melissa’s sprits to drop again instantly. ‘And an even worse father,’ he continued. ‘I’m too selfish. I like my life too much.’
‘I know.’ Despite the pain she felt at his words, Melissa admired his honesty. She was glad he didn’t just say all the things he knew she wanted to hear, in order to keep her coming back to his bed night after night. ‘But, Mark, you have to give me the chance to find happiness with someone else. Before it’s too late. I don’t want to get to forty and find myself on the scrapheap. It’s different for you. There’s no time limit the way there is for me.’
Mark pulled her into his arms and held her tightly to his chest. ‘Can’t we still see each other?’ he said into her hair, his voice plaintive. ‘Can’t you hunt for Mr Right while still enjoying the company of Mr Wrong?’
Melissa laughed. She could feel her resolve weakening. Maybe she could still spend the odd night with Mark, while she was looking for someone new. ‘I don’t know…’ she whispered.
‘You do know…’ Mark kissed her, sending pulses of lust racing through her whole body. He was so persuasive. ‘You can’t resist me, darling. Any more than I can resist you.’
Melissa allowed him to undo the towel she was wrapped in and lay her gently back on the bed. He began to kiss her all over, effortlessly finding her erogenous zones, as if he had memorized the map of her body. ‘How could you even think about giving this up?’ he murmured, as she let out a moan of pleasure.
Melissa gasped and pushed him away. ‘No!’ she said, getting off the bed and shaking her head. ‘I can’t. I can’t do this any more, Mark. It’s over.’
CHAPTER FORTY
The relief of finally saying it out loud was so overwhelming that Emily began to struggle for breath. She leaned forward, clutching her stomach as she tried to get some air.
Amy, who had been frozen in shock, suddenly sprang into action. She snatched a paper bag from the bin. ‘Here, Em, blow,’ she ordered, holding the neck of the bag over Emily’s mouth. ‘That’s it,’ she soothed, as Emily began to breathe more steadily. ‘Just keep breathing in and out.’
After several more minutes, Emily took the bag away with a shaking hand. She looked up at Amy, whose face was still rigid. ‘Say something, Amy.’
Amy stood up from the bed and walked to the window, where she looked out for a few minutes before speaking. ‘What I don’t understand…’ she began, ‘is why you told us it was Anton?’ She looked back at Emily with a bewildered expression. ‘Why you lied to us?’
‘I didn’t.’ Emily climbed out of bed, her legs wobbling slightly as they took her weight. Her bones felt weary. It had felt like the longest night of her life. She joined Amy at the window. Outside, the sun was up and the sky was the deep shade of blue that meant it was going to be a beautiful, hot day. But Emily couldn’t enjoy the spectacular view of the white cliffs and sparkling azure sea stretching out towards Scotland. Her vision was blurred. ‘I never lied to you, Amy. To any of you. You all assumed Anton was the father but I never, ever told you that he was.’
Amy frowned, as if she was trying to remember. ‘Well, then, you certainly lied by omission,’ she said after a while. She looked hurt.
Emily sighed. ‘Yes, I probably did. I’m sorry. I had no choice.’
‘Why? Why did you have no choice? I don’t understand.’ Amy threw her hands up in a half-hearted gesture of exasperation.
Emily looked away, her mind racing. ‘Because I couldn’t tell anyone the truth.’
Amy nodded slowly. ‘Right. And are you going to tell the truth now?’
Emily sat down heavily on the sofa and curled her legs underneath her. ‘I want to.’ She paused, before continuing. ‘No, that’s not true. I don’t want to tell anyone. I’ve managed to keep it to myself all these years. But with Jack’s situation being so desperate… I’m going to have to.’
Amy exhaled. She looked as if she might throw up. ‘I’m going to make us some tea. I think we both need it,’ she said, walking over to the kettle and flicking the switch. ‘Then, we can talk.’
Emily watched her as she busily put teabags into mugs and prepared their drinks. She was grateful for the delay. It gave her time to gather her courage.
‘Right, here you go.’ Amy brought over the two steaming mugs and placed them carefully on the glass coffee table. She sat down facing Emily, mirroring her position on the sofa. ‘Do you want to begin at the beginning?’
The signs were there, long before the bold blue line appeared in the window of the little white stick. She was sick most mornings – she put it down to drinking so much that fateful night. She was tired all the time – she put it down to working flat out for her finals, which were fast approaching. She was emotional over the slightest little thing – she put it down to guilt over what had happened.
As the days and weeks passed, Emily stayed in denial, ignoring the jeans that were slightly too tight around the waist; the bras that were bursting at the seams; the endless, relentless nausea that followed her day and night.
The results were published. She’d got a first. Her mum and dad stood up and applauded wildly as she graduated. ‘We are so, so proud of you, darling,’ said her mum for the tenth time, as they headed into the college grounds, where all the students were gathering for a celebratory drink.
Emily sensed him before she saw him. ‘Hello, Emily,’ said an unmistakable, slightly gravelly voice.
She turned, her hand automatically moving to her stomach, grateful for the loose, flowing gown she was wearing. ‘Hello, Anton. How lovely to see you.’
He smiled, his sparkling blue eyes shining. ‘You got your first, then.’ He sounded like a proud father. ‘I always knew you would.’
Her heart hammered in her chest as she gazed up at him. Immediately, all the feelings she had buried came rushing back in a torrent. ‘It was down to you. You inspired me.’
Anton raised his eyebrows. ‘Wow. That might just be the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me. Although, of course, the only person who should take any credit, is you.’
Emily smiled. ‘OK. If you insist.’
‘I do.’ Anton reached out to touch her arm.
Emily jumped as if she had had an electric shock and they locked eyes again. ‘Anton, I’ve missed you so much,’ she said truthfully.
‘I’ve missed you too.’ The words seemed to take him by surprise as they fell from his lips. ‘Sorry. I really shouldn’t have said that.’
Emily looked around the thronging marquee, before turning back to meet his gaze again. ‘Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.’ There was an unmistakably flirtatious tone to her voice that was so unlike her. She had never made the first move with a man before. But she didn’t care. He was no longer her tutor so there were no rules to say it was wrong. She deliberately pushed any thoughts of his wife and children out of her mind. ‘How long are you staying in London?’
Anton’s expression became serious. She could see him fighting with himself. ‘One night.’
Emily nodded. ‘In a hotel?’
‘Yes.’ Anton cleared his throat, before adding, ‘
All alone.’
There was a long pause, as Emily balanced on the precipice, deciding.
‘Would you like some company?’ she said finally, her body beginning to tingle with anticipation.
Anton swallowed hard, still holding her gaze. ‘Yes,’ he said, in a thick voice. ‘I would like that very much.’
Afterwards, she lay on his chest, listening to the thud of his heart and drinking in the taste and smell of him, as he dosed quietly.
Anton’s eyes flickered open suddenly and he smiled as he saw her watching him. ‘What?’
Emily bit her lip. ‘Nothing.’
Anton gave her a searching look. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’
‘I’m thinking I wish we could stay here for ever. Like this.’
‘So do I.’ She could see in Anton’s eyes that he was telling the truth.
‘Does this have to be the end, Anton?’ A thought was starting to form in Emily’s mind. The thought that maybe they could be together. With the baby. Was it such a wild idea? She wasn’t too far gone. It might be possible to make everyone think it was his. Including him.
Anton stroked her hair. ‘I think it does, yes,’ he said, immediately silencing the thoughts that were racing through her mind. ‘I… I do have feelings for you, Emily.’ He paused. ‘And things with my wife… well, they’re not great. But I have two children. They come first.’
‘You could have more children…’ she said, her voice wistful. ‘With me.’
Anton shook his head ruefully. ‘That would be something of a miracle, I’m afraid. My days of fathering children are well and truly over.’
So that was that. Emily’s dreams of a life with Anton evaporated in front of her eyes. Like a giant bubble silently bursting.
‘But it’s not the end for you, Emily,’ Anton was saying. ‘It’s just the beginning. You will go on to do such great things in your life. I know you will.’
Emily ran her hand over her stomach, which was just starting to bulge with the little life growing inside her. He was right about one thing: this was just the beginning.