One hundred and nine. Sephy

Mother sat down beside me in the family room. Dad paced up and down in front of me. I turned to glare at Minnie.

‘So much for your promises,’ I said bitterly.

At least she had the grace to be embarrassed and look away, unable to meet my stare. I should’ve known she wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut. Some secrets are obviously too juicy to keep. And no doubt this was her chance to get back at me for all those years of ‘Minnie’ instead of ‘Minerva’. As well as telling Mother and Dad, she’d probably told one person, who’d told someone else, who’d told someone else and before you knew it, it was the world’s best-kept shared secret. It was inevitably only a matter of time before the press found out. Maybe that’s what Minnie wanted all along. Whatever else happened, I’d never forgive her for this, never if I lived to be five hundred.

‘What we have to do,’ Dad began, ‘is deal with this situation as quickly and discreetly as possible.’

‘It’s for the best, darling,’ Mother took one of my hands in hers and patted it gently.

‘We’ve already booked you into a clinic for tomorrow morning,’ said Dad. ‘By tomorrow evening it will all be over. You won’t be pregnant any more and we can all put this whole thing behind us.’

‘I know it’s hard, love, but it’s definitely for the best,’ Mother agreed.

‘You want me to have an abortion?’ I asked.

‘Well, you don’t want to keep it, do you?’ Mother said, puzzlement in her voice. ‘A child of your kidnapper? The bastard child of a raping blanker?’

‘Of course she doesn’t,’ Dad said brusquely. He turned to me. ‘You should’ve told us, princess. You should’ve told us what they did to you. We could’ve sorted all this out so much sooner and avoided all this press speculation.’

‘I’ll take you to the clinic myself,’ said Mother, trying to dredge up a smile from nowhere.

‘We’ll both go,’ said Dad. ‘This time tomorrow, it will all be over.’

‘Leave everything to us,’ said Mum.

‘You can hardly be expected to make decisions for yourself or even think straight at a time like this,’ Dad said.

Mother and Dad – together at last. Reunited. Acting, moving, thinking as one. And I’d done that. I couldn’t help but wonder. The thoughts going through my head, were they the result of straight thinking or crooked thinking? How could I tell which was which?

‘We’re all behind you on this, love,’ said Dad. ‘And once it’s over we’ll all go away somewhere on a holiday. You can put it behind you and get on with the rest of your life. We all can.’

Put it behind me . . . Is that what he thought? A quick operation and just like that, my baby would be gone and forgotten? Looking at Dad was like looking at a stranger. He didn’t know me at all. And I couldn’t even feel sad about it.

‘I’m not going to the clinic tomorrow,’ I said softly.

‘You won’t be alone. We’ll be with you . . .’

‘You’ll be on your own then, because I’m not going.’

‘Pardon?’ Dad stared at me.

I stood up to face him directly.

‘I’m going to keep my baby.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Dad wasn’t shouting. He was merely incredulous. He didn’t believe I meant it.

‘I’m going to keep my baby,’ I repeated.

‘No, you are not.’

‘It’s my body and my baby, and I’m keeping it.’

‘Persephone, be reasonable. You’re not being sensible. You’re only just eighteen. How can you keep the baby? Everyone will know how it was conceived. You’ll be pointed at and scorned and pitied. Is that what you want?’

He really didn’t know me at all.

‘I’m keeping it.’

‘You’ll change your mind tomorrow,’ Dad decided.

‘No, I won’t,’ I told him. ‘I’m keeping it.’

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 589