Helena could hear Alex breathing, nothing more.
‘With the new ballet looming, it wasn’t fair to stay on with the company – after all, I could hardly have portrayed ‘The Little Dancer’ at six months pregnant when it premiered in March. And in the meantime, it wouldn’t have been fair on anyone to continue pretending. I told Fabio to find another partner, and left the company at the end of January. I decided I’d stay on in Vienna. One way and another, going back to England wasn’t an option. I had some money saved from what my mother had left me after she died, which I used to get through the pregnancy, and I started working at Café Landtmann, not far from the Opera House, as a waitress. They liked the fact I could speak English as well as basic German, and they were very kind to me. I worked up to the day before you arrived unexpectedly, over a month prematurely.
‘But you were fine and healthy, and you were so gorgeous.’ Helena felt a catch in her throat as she remembered. ‘I called you Alexander, both in remembrance of the little one I’d never had and after your biological father. There didn’t seem to be a choice,’ she shrugged with a faint smile. ‘And of course, Rudolf as a second name, after Nureyev, the famous dancer who died so tragically young, only a few days after I found out I was expecting you.’
There was still silence from Alex. What else could she expect? So she continued.
‘After I’d had you, it was a very difficult time. You needed some specialist care as a premature baby, and to top it all I wasn’t very well either. I suffered from a rare condition called postpartum eclampsia – I don’t want to sound dramatic, but I nearly died, Alex, which meant I struggled for far longer to get back to full health. We were both in the hospital for over two months. After that, returning to dancing simply wasn’t an option at the time. It may sound ridiculous to you, but a ballerina has to be as physically fit – if not fitter – than a Premier League football player. I did get better slowly, thank God, and for the first year I was happy just to be with you. And Alex, Fabio was just wonderful with you. He played with you, took you out for walks and was as much of a father as any man could be. As you know, he also gave you Bee, your bunny . . .’
Helena paused before continuing. Unable to see her son’s expression in the darkness, it was impossible to gauge what he was thinking.
‘And then there was Gretchen, who lived in the apartment above us. When I went back to work at the café, as I needed to earn us some money urgently, she looked after you. You loved her, Alex. She was fat and jolly and used to feed you home-made fruit strudels and pancakes. Do you remember her?’
‘No,’ came the terse reply.
‘Anyway, as I grew stronger, with Fabio’s encouragement, I eventually started taking classes, thinking that I might be able to go back to partnering him again. Then Fabio told me he’d been offered a contract at the New York City Ballet, and begged me to bring you and go with him. He never did like Vienna. But Alex, I knew that I just wasn’t anywhere near up to the standard required. The New York City Ballet dancers are amongst the most athletic in the world. I didn’t want to arrive as Fabio’s partner and not have the physical and mental stamina needed to cope – which would then have set him back on his career path, and that wouldn’t have been fair.
‘So I told him that I didn’t want to uproot both of us and go to New York. You can imagine that when he left Vienna, I was distraught. I gave up the idea of ever returning to dancing, and continued to work as a waitress. Then we had to leave our lovely apartment, and Gretchen, because I simply couldn’t afford it, and we moved to what was little more than a freezing rabbit hutch above the café I worked at. I was at my lowest ebb when, a few months later, I met William.’
Helena paused, trying to find the strength to go on.
‘William brought me back to life, Alex, he really did. He was so kind and steady, and such a genuinely good person. And slowly, I fell in love with him. Not in the “first love” way I’d adored Alexis, or in the mad, reckless way I’d felt about Sacha, but something that was deeper and stronger. I’m telling you all this, Alex, because it’s the truth and also, it’s your story too. I don’t expect you to understand or forgive me.’
Helena looked at her son’s silhouette, framed against the moonlight.
‘When William asked me to go with him back to England, I eventually agreed. I had to take time to make sure I wasn’t hanging on to him for the wrong reasons. Not that he was particularly wealthy at the time – Cecile had got the family home in the divorce, so he was living in a poky rented cottage. But we were so happy there, Alex, and I knew it was right. So then he asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We managed to buy Cedar House at an auction and made plans to set about turning it into our home. Honestly, Alex, I’ve never felt so completely happy and content as I did then. That was, until our wedding day . . .’ Helena lapsed into silence.
‘What happened?’ Alex muttered eventually.
‘William had told me about Sacha – this great friend of his from school and Oxford days, who was living out in Singapore, but who would be coming over especially for our wedding with his wife. I was literally walking down the aisle in the registry office when I saw him staring at me in shock. Later, William introduced this man as his best friend, “Sacha” – which I now know is a shortened version of “Alexander”. I’m not joking, I nearly fainted during the vows, my heart was racing so fast.’
‘Did you speak to him afterwards?’
‘No, or at least, not in private. William introduced us, of course, but I’m sure you can imagine how Sacha proceeded to get horribly drunk and had to be carted off to his hotel room by Jules. Not before she’d met you, then told me all about Rupert, their young son, born just four months before you. And of course, I then knew why “Alexander” had never come back to me in Vienna. God, Alex.’ Helena put her head in her hands. ‘It was dreadful . . . dreadful. I spent most of our lovely honeymoon in Thailand sleepless, trying to decide whether I should just tell William the truth outright, and have done with it. Then it would be up to him to choose whether he wanted to divorce me or not. But I was too scared of losing him. I loved him, Alex, I was so happy, you were so happy . . . I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words and turn the fairy tale into a nightmare. I comforted myself with the thought that Sacha lived on the other side of the world, that even if they were best friends, our paths were unlikely to cross very often. And for the first few years, that was the way it was. I even managed to forget sometimes, to put it to the back of my mind.’
Helena paused for breath, distractedly running a hand through her hair. ‘Of course, I know now in retrospect that I should have told William the moment I saw Sacha. Anything would have been better than living with this awful, awful secret. And waiting for it to be discovered. Then, as you know, Sacha, Jules and the children came back to live in England. We didn’t see them very often, thank God. They came to stay for the weekend sometimes, and William saw Sacha by himself in London. Then Jules heard we were coming to Cyprus to stay in the house I’d inherited and, insisting she needed to get away, invited herself and her family. I could hardly say no, but I was absolutely petrified. Something told me disaster was looming. And, my God, I was right.’
Helena shook her head slowly in the darkness. ‘And that’s all, really, darling. There’s nothing more to say. If I’ve destroyed you, Alex, I can only apologise and tell you that I love you more than anything in the world. I kept the secret to protect you, and William and our family.’
‘And yourself, Mum,’ Alex muttered harshly.
‘Yes, you’re right: and myself. I know I’ve only got myself to blame. The worst thing is that William has been the most wonderful father to you, and now, through my stupidity and selfishness, I’ve managed to take away the one thing I always wanted you to have. God, how I wish he was your real father. I would give anything to turn the clock back. I’m just so sorry I got it all wrong. I know William can never forgive me. It’s the most terrible betrayal. But I do love him, Alex. I always hav
e and I always will.’
‘Does Sacha, or Alexander, or whoever the hell he really is, know? About me being his . . . ?’ Alex’s voice trailed off.
‘Yes. He guessed immediately the first time he saw you at the wedding. For the sake of everyone concerned, there has been an unspoken pact of silence between us.’
‘Were you ever going to tell me?’
‘I . . . didn’t know. I couldn’t tell you the truth, but I didn’t want to lie to you either. He might have been responsible for your genes, Alex, but he’s played no part in your life since.’
‘Do you still love him?’
‘No. If anything, the opposite. I . . .’ Helena stopped herself from saying more – remembering that Alex had just learnt that Sacha was his biological father, and it wasn’t right to launch into a negative diatribe about him. ‘Part of me wishes I’d never met him, but then, darling, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have you.’
‘Okay. Please go away now,’ he said.
‘Oh, darling.’ Helena stifled a sob, then reached out a tentative hand towards him and touched wet fur. Her son’s tears had soaked his beloved Bee. ‘I’m so very, very sorry. I love you, Alex.’
Then she stood up and left the room.
ALEX’S DIARY
12th August (continued)
I
have
nothing
to
say
κς
Twenty-six
Helena sat on the terrace the next morning, watching the dawn break after a sleepless night. She tried to comfort herself that she’d felt this way before: the agony of loss, of life being changed irrevocably, the road she’d been previously travelling on suddenly blocked. There would be an alternative route – there always was. She’d cope, she’d survive, she always had.
But the difference was that this time, it wasn’t about her.
She could cope with anything, except the thought of her children suffering. Worse still, it was she that had inflicted the pain. Her heart contracted yet again as she thought of Alex’s devastation, his confusion. Her role as a mother was to bring comfort, to protect and guide him. Instead, she’d broken him.
And William too.
Helena walked down to the hammock, weak with the exhaustion of emotion, and climbed in. As she lay looking at the lightening sky, she clearly understood for the first time why some people saw no alternative to suicide. Perhaps, she thought, it wasn’t just about outside events, but to do with the perception of oneself; believing you were a good person, that you’d treated those around you with respect and love, was everything. Now, the thought of living with herself every day for the rest of her life, with those she loved most knowing she wasn’t and hadn’t, felt almost untenable.
Helena knew she would find the strength to carry on, but just now, despite the beauty of the warm sun making an appearance on its celestial stage, she felt as cold and bleak as she had that day when she’d sat in the park in Vienna, knowing Alexander had gone for good.
Eventually, she trudged wearily upstairs to her bedroom. The wardrobe door was hanging open; William’s side was empty, his travel holdall gone. She shut it miserably, then lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.
‘Mummy, Mummy! Where’s Daddy? I drewed him a picture of you and Fabio dancing. Look.’
Helena opened her eyes, the memory of what had happened last night hitting her afresh like a punch in the stomach. Tears leapt unannounced into her eyes.
‘Mummy! Look at my picture,’ Immy insisted, thrusting the drawing in front of her.
Helena sat up on her elbows. ‘It’s very good, darling. Well done.’
‘Can I give it to Daddy? Is he downstairs?’
‘No. He’s had to go away for a bit. It’s to do with his work.’
‘On our holiday? Why didn’t he say goodbye?’
‘He got a telephone call after you’d gone to bed and had to leave urgently very early this morning.’ Helena invented the story as she spoke, loathing herself for yet more lies.
‘Oh. Will he be back soon?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh. Mummy?’
‘Yes?’
‘Why are you still wearing your last night dress?’
‘I was tired, Immy, that’s all.’
‘You always make me put my nightie on when I say that.’
‘Yes, I do, don’t I? Sorry.’
‘Are you feeling sick again, Mummy?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ Helena climbed off the bed. ‘Where’s Fred?’
‘Asleep. Shall I make you breakfast?’
‘No, darling, it’s okay. I’ll come down with you.’
Somehow Helena managed to get through the morning. She took Immy and Fred swimming in the pool, her heart breaking when she glanced at their happy, trusting faces. How would they feel when they understood that the family unit they had once been part of had evaporated overnight? That Daddy was gone, and doubtless would not be coming back? And that it was all her fault . . .
Fabio appeared in the kitchen at half past ten. Helena thought he looked almost as dreadful as she did.
He took her in his arms and held her tenderly. ‘Bella, bella, I am so very sorry. This is all my fault.’
‘Don’t show me sympathy Fabio, please. I’ll cry. And this is not your fault. It’s one hundred per cent mine.’
‘Helena, your husband, he is a good man. And he loves you very much. He will think, and he will understand and come back. This coincidence that happen to you . . . it is just the cruel hand of fate.’
Helena shook her head. ‘No, he won’t come back. I’ve lied to him, deceived him for the whole of our marriage.’
‘But Helena, you did not know!’
‘Not at the beginning, no, but I should have told him the moment I did.’
‘Perhaps, but it is easy when we look back to see these things, is it not? Where has he gone?’
‘I should think he’s flown home to England. I’m sure he wouldn’t stay in Cyprus. Knowing William, he’ll want to put as much distance between us as he can.’
‘Then you must follow him and explain.’
‘He doesn’t want to hear. I tried last night.’
‘It is the shock, cara. Give him time, please.’
‘How can we have a future together now? He’ll never trust me again, and I don’t blame him. Trust is everything in a relationship, Fabio. You know that.’
‘Yes, but if there is love, there is always a future.’
‘Stop, Fabio,’ Helena groaned. ‘Don’t give me hope where there is none. I can’t think clearly at the moment. And . . . Jules is living here in Kathikas too at the moment! What is she going to say when she finds out? I’m sure William will tell her. I would if I was him. She thinks I’m her friend! Oh God, what a mess.’ She sat down abruptly and buried her face in her hands.
‘Si, it is,’ Fabio agreed. ‘But life is a messy thing. You must find a way to sort it out.’
‘Should I go and see Jules, do you think? Tell her before William does? It’s the least I owe her.’
‘No, Helena. For now, she does not need to know. You say yesterday they are divorcing?’
‘Yes.’
‘So why cause her more pain? If William tells her, then so be it’ – he shrugged – ‘but let the dust settle a little.’
‘It was my fault for wanting to see you so much. I was tempting fate. I should have left the past where it belonged.’
‘Yes, but is it not a good thing that Fabio is back to pick up your pieces? And do not forget the pain that bad man causes you. What you went through when he left. It is him I blame for all this. I told you back then that I know the minute I see him he is trouble.’
‘You did, and I only wish I had listened.’
‘But then, Alex would not have been born, and Alexander would not have sent William to help mend his heart. And you would not have had your life with him and your beautiful children. No’ – Fabio thumped the table – ‘you must never r
egret anything in your life. The past – good and bad – makes you who you are.’
Helena reached for his hand and squeezed it. ‘I’d forgotten how wise you are. Thank you, darling Fabio.’
‘And Alex? How is he? Shocked, I think?’
‘He’s catatonic. I tried to explain it all to him last night, but every word I spoke must have been like an arrow through his heart. To finally discover his father’s identity is bad enough, but then to have to acknowledge that his mother is a terrible person, who has lied to everyone . . . I love him so, so much, Fabio, and I’ve let him down and hurt him . . .’ She broke down, and sobbed onto Fabio’s shoulder.
‘Helena, cara,’ he soothed her, ‘Alex is clever boy. I know this from when he is small and talking to me like an adult when he is only two years old! Perhaps at first, he will hate you for hurting him. But he must be allowed to, as anger is part of the healing process. And then his big, kind brain will start to think. He will see the facts and understand. He will know how much you love him, that you are good mamma, that you try always to do your best for him.’
‘No! I’m an awful mother! Can you imagine hearing what he heard last night? I told him about my abortion too because I felt he should know why I was so determined to keep him. How can he ever respect me again?’
‘Helena’ – Fabio tipped her chin up to look at him – ‘he now has to understand you are not just a mother, but a human being. Who is not perfect. This revelation comes to all children and it is hard to accept, especially so young. But he is advanced for his age, so he will cope. Give Alex time, cara, I promise he will come round.’
‘There are so many ramifications for him to take in, like the fact that he’s got a half-brother who happens to be his nemesis.’ Helena shuddered at the thought.
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