Least Said (65 page)

‘How?’
I
cried,
tears
streaming
down
my
face.
‘How
will
he
understand
when
I
know
that
I
never
will?’

Chapter 17

Jon
stared
at
me,
apparently
unmoved
by
my
tears.

I
knew
I
should
have
remained
calm
and
tried
to
reason
with
him,
but
all
of
a
sudden
I
completely
lost
it
and,
forgetting
for
a
moment
that
all
of
this
was
my
fault,
I
shrieked,
‘Fine.
If
that’s
the
way
you
want
it,
throw
away
everything
we
have
and
break
a
little
boy’s
heart.’

Anticipating
that
Jon
would
walk
out
of
the
house,
I
determined
to
beat
him
to
it.
Snatching
my
coat
from
the
peg
and
the
keys
from
the
hall
table,
I
marched
through
the
front
door
and
slammed
it
behind
me
with
as
much
force
as
I
could
muster.

It
felt
as
if
hours
had
passed
during
the
altercation
with
Jon,
but
the
Brankstone
church
clock
striking
ten
proved
that
the
whole
exchange
had
actually
taken
less
than
one.

It
wasn’t
until
I
was
a
stone’s
throw
from
the
school
that
I
suddenly
remembered
the
meeting
I
had
cancelled
in
such
a
rush
earlier
and
I
immediately
headed
in
that
direction
–
just
on
the
off
chance
that
my
message
hadn’t
been
passed
on.
My
instinct
proved
right,
because
as
I
turned
the
corner
there
was
Gareth
Montgomery
pacing
at
the
school
gate
and
frequently
pulling
back
his
cuff
to
check
his
watch.

‘We
said
ten
o’clock,’
he
began
irritably
the
minute
he
set
eyes
on
me,
then
taking
in
the
set
expression
on
my
face
he
obviously
thought
better
of
continuing
to
berate
me
for
keeping
him
waiting
and
shut
up.

We
automatically
walked
quickly
away
from
the
school
with
the
strong
possibility
of
interested
eyes
noting
our
rendez vous
and
perhaps
wondering
at
the
reason
for
it.

‘So,’
he
said
when
enough
distance
had
been
covered
and
we
stood
facing
each
other
in
an
unfamiliar
side-street,
‘what’s
this
all
about?’

‘It’s
about
a
brief
affair
we
had,
you
and
I,
little
more
than
a
one
night
stand
really,
around
seven
years
ago.’
When
he
just
looked
at
me
without
commenting,
I
continued.
‘It
obviously
meant
nothing
to
you
and
it
would
have
had
a
similar
lack
of
impact
on
my
life
but...,’

He
interrupted
me
then,
obviously
wondering
what
this
had
to
do
with
him
all
these
years
on,
but
too
impatient
to
let
me
tell
him.
‘So
why
are
you
here
now,
bringing
up
something
that
should
have
been
long
forgotten?’

He
glanced
at
his
watch,
it
was
a
rude
gesture,
obviously
making
the
point
that
I
was
wasting
his
valuable
time,
and
I
glared
at
him.

‘Just
shut
up
and
listen,’
I
advised,
‘the
sooner
we
get
this
over
with
the
better,
I
can
assure
you.
The
reason
I’m
here
is
that
I
bumped
into
you
–
literally
–
a
few
weeks
ago
in
a
store
in
Southampton.
I
recognised
you
just
and
you
appeared
to
recognise
me,
because
you
asked
if
you
knew
me.’
He
shrugged
and
shook
his
head.
I
ploughed
on.
‘It
might
have
been
coincidence,
but
suddenly
I
kept
seeing
you
wherever
I
went
and
gained
the
impression
that
you
were
following
me.’

Now
I
had
said
it
out
loud,
it
all
sounded
ridiculous,
like
something
out
of
the
realms
of
fantasy.
He
was
staring
at
me
as
if
I
was
quite
mad,
and
I
couldn’t
really
blame
him.

‘Why
the
hell,’
he
said,
‘would
I
want
to
do
that?’

‘I
thought
you
were
interested
in
my
child,’
I
admitted
and
my
tone
was
flat
and
hard.

‘I
already
have
four
children
of
my
own.’

‘Yes,
I
know
you
do,
but
yours
are
all
girls
and
mine
is
a
boy.
I
convinced
myself,
rightly
or
wrongly,
that
 
being
a
sportsman,
you
might
have
a
yearning
for
a
son.’

He
was
still
staring
at
me,
uncomprehending,
and
then
slowly
like
a
bulb
on
a
dimmer
switch,
his
expression
lightened.
‘You
think
he’s
mine?’
he
said
incredulously.

‘I
think
it’s
possible,
yes.’

‘Are
you
here
to
blackmail
me?’
The
question
was
so
preposterous
that
I
was
momentarily
stunned.