Davey had gone into what passed for downtown to arrange for the realtor to come and do whatever it is they do when they list a property, and Sophie and I set to work packing the things I couldn’t bear to leave behind, even temporarily; mostly mementoes of Mom and Daddy, framed photographs, trinkets and such, but things I couldn’t do without. I’d gone to make us a coffee while Sophie rummaged and sorted through various bits and pieces, but when I came back with the coffee, my heart leaped into my mouth, then dropped into my boots at what I saw. Sophie had a photo album open on her knees, her expression unreadable as she stared at the pictures. Before she even said anything, I already knew exactly which pictures she’d found. She looked up at me, her face completely blank and expressionless.
“Loretta, would you please explain something to me?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral. I gulped and nodded, unable to speak for the knot in my throat.
“Would you kindly explain to me who these people are? I recognize David, even as a boy he was so distinctive, and a woman who is obviously his mother, David’s father’s tastes obviously remained with him, she looks enough like me to be my sister, and a man I can only assume is his stepfather, but why are you in this photograph, at such an early age, too, and why do you look so much like David’s mother? I want the truth, please, now.”
I couldn’t look at her, looking so much like Mom as she did, and hedge, fib, or prevaricate; now was the time to tell it all, and I spilled my guts like a prison-yard stool-pigeon. I told her everything, even my original plan to seduce Davey and catch his baby at the very least, so that when he left, I’d at least have something of him in my life. Her expression changed as I spilled it all, going from frosty and neutral to wondering, and, finally, compassionate and concerned.
I finally wound-down, and braced for the blast of anger, outrage, or worse, contempt, for trapping David in something he’d had no intention of ever pursuing when he’d come back from England, and for giving him no honorable choice except to continue with this for the sake of the child, a child he’d never intended to have with me in the first place.
Sophie sipped her coffee, never taking her eyes off me for a second.
“Thank you for telling me the truth, Loretta. This puts a slightly different complexion on things, but have no fear, all is not lost. I shall have to consider what we need to do next. Obviously, the fact you and David are half-siblings is an issue; how big an issue it is, and how best we can counter it remains to be seen. For the moment, I suggest we remain positive; I’ve seen the way David looks at you, and the way he’s gone about this whole thing speaks to me of how committed he is to making this work, which is a very good sign indeed. In all the ways that count, he truly is his father’s son, but then, I would have expected no less from him. He should be back soon. Depending on how he chooses to answer a couple of questions I have, I think I see a possible way for all of this to go away. We shall see how truthful David chooses to be, so fingers crossed!”
When Davey came breezing in, obviously elated that we were almost ready to leave, the frigid atmosphere in the room must have hit him, because he stopped short mid-sentence, caught by Sophie’s icy expression. When she began speaking, he actually paled as all the blood drained from his face.
“David, is there something you want to tell me? About you and Loretta, I mean?”
Poor Davey looked like a deer caught in the headlights; he looked at me in mute appeal, but I’d already felt just the mild edge of Sophie’s tongue, I wasn’t going risk going back for more…
Sophie cocked that scary eyebrow at him, and whatever he was stuttering and mumbling about died unsaid.
“David, I found, quite by accident, I assure you, a photograph album, pictures of you and your parents. I browsed through it, quite innocently, looking at pictures of you, your poor dear father, and your mother at Denham Hall, all perfectly ordinary. Upon browsing further, and much to my surprise, I find a picture of your mother, with, I assume, her new husband, you, and a little girl; a little girl who looks exactly like Loretta, exactly like your mother. My question to you is: How exactly did you meet Loretta, and what is her actual relationship to you?”
Davey gulped, going a paler shade of green, then his jaw muscles bunched, something he does when he’s going to tell the truth no matter how much trouble he gets into over it, and squared his shoulders, his head up as he looked her directly in the eye.
“Aunt Sophie, Lori is my half-sister. I know what we’re doing is wrong, but I love her; she and I are meant to be together…”
Sophie nodded slowly, looking at him, then me, then back at him, her eyes sweeping him like twin laser-beams.
“Yes, I daresay. When were you planning on telling me of this… aspect of your relationship, pray tell?”
Davey paled at her tone; right then you could have used her voice to saw granite, every syllable diamond-edged and cold enough to freeze ice; if it had been me on the receiving end of that voice I’d have headed for the tall timber, but Davey took a deep breath, and told her what I hoped he would; the complete, unvarnished truth, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles showed white, but his voice clear and honest, with no trace of the tension he must have been feeling at admitting all this stuff to his aunt.
“Aunt Sophie, I was hoping it would never come up. Lori and I have different fathers, we’re only related through Mother, and we’re from different countries…” he trailed off as Sophie gazed unwaveringly at him for another few seconds, before relaxing, that stern expression and unwavering gaze relaxing slightly.
“If you had given me any other answer, David, I would have given you a ringing slap for lying to me. Never do that again, dear; I could always tell when your father was trying to slip one past me, and I can do it with you as well!”
She suddenly relaxed, her sternness gone, replaced by a motherly concern.
“David, you should have told me instead of trying to deceive me. How do you know I wouldn’t have just kept my mouth shut forever? You must learn to trust in your family a little, Richard and I, I mean, and the boys, not that bunch of dried-up, miserable old harpies Richard spends so much time and effort avoiding!”
I let out a huge sigh of relief; of all the ways this could have gone, she’d taken the best route, and that stiff apprehension I’d been feeling drained away. Sophie crossed over to stroke my cheek, smiling reassuringly, dissipating the worry that she’d decide she wanted nothing to do with the pair of us for what we’d done; losing her just when I’d found her was my biggest fear right then.
Sophie smiled gently at me, her hand soft and warm against my cheek, cupping my chin, and smoothing my hair.
“This makes no difference to me, dear; in the grand scheme of things it’s barely a hiccup, but I just wish you’d told me sooner. If I were you, I would find somewhere safe, really safe, somewhere the rest of the family have absolutely no access to, and keep all these photographs away, safe and sound. Richard won’t be told, unless you choose to tell him, but, to be honest, I doubt he’d care; he’s absolutely bewitched by you and wouldn’t hear a word said against you; I really do think he’s starting to believe he’s your father, he’s certainly acting like it!”
“Besides,” she smiled, “it’s not like this hasn’t happened before, you know. If we’re going to let skeletons out of the closet, they may as well all dance together! I’m going to tell you another deep, dark family secret; it might just illuminate your situation a little better. David, dear, Loretta once told me how you were amazed at Richard’s resemblance to your grandfather; that is no coincidence. Your grandfather had a younger sister, Louisa, Richard’s mother, and she was an absolute corker when she was young, petite, green-eyed and golden-haired, a famously beautiful young woman. When she married Richard’s father, she was two months pregnant.”
Davey looked puzzled at this apparent non-sequitur, then his eyes widened as something became clear.
“Are you telling me…?” he began, and Sophie nodded.
“Louisa was in love with your grandfather, her older brother, and he was in love with her. Tragic, I know. Anyway, she became pregnant. He couldn’t marry her, of course, and so he arranged her marriage to Richard’s supposed father, to prevent her name being dragged through the mud. I understand quite a lot of money changed hands, most of which got drunk by that dreadful man. The upshot is, Richard is truly your uncle, your father’s half-brother, not his cousin, although I think they both somehow knew or suspected; they were so alike in so many ways, more so than cousins should be, more like brothers would be.”
“That’s why your grandfather paid for Richard’s education, and made sure David remained so close to him, close to his older brother. It must have been terrible for him, terrible and heartbreaking, to see his oldest son so often, to look at his face and see his own face there, and never be able to acknowledge him. But he gave Richard a good start in life, for which I am profoundly grateful. So you see, I do understand. I’m not such a judgemental old dragon, now, am I?”
Davey was grinning like a Cheshire cat as all this unfolded.