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‘I panicked and said the first thing I thought of.’
She looked up and Alexio’s face was unreadable. Sidonie hated the suspicion that he still didn’t fully believe her. But then he came and sat down on a chair near the couch and looked at her.
‘Will you tell me what happened with your mother?’
Sidonie was about to blurt out that it was none of his business and then she felt those delicate flutters in her abdomen again. Their daughter. He had a right to the full story.
She sighed deeply. She’d never told anyone about this before. Feeling it might be easier to talk without Alexio’s cool gaze on her, Sidonie stood up and went to the window, arms hugging her midriff.
‘She was born in the suburbs. She and my aunt had an extremely impoverished upbringing. Their father ran out on my grandmother, leaving her to raise two daughters on her own—one with special needs My grandmother had drink problems...mental health issues...depression. Neglect was a feature of their lives. She died when my mother was about seventeen. She had to look after Tante Josephine full-time then...which she resented. She was young and bright. Beautiful. She craved opportunities beyond the grim reality of the suburbs.’
Sidonie turned round.
‘My mother never told me much, but Tante Josephine’s told me enough for me to know that it was pretty tough. When my mother was twenty she won a local beauty competition. Part of the prize was a trip to Dublin for the next round. She went and never came back, leaving my aunt to fend for herself on social protection in their mother’s flat. That’s why my father bought her the apartment when he could. He always felt sorry for her—for how my mother had treated her...’
Shame rose up within Sidonie but she forced it down and kept looking at Alexio, determined not to allow her mother’s shame to be her shame.
‘My father was the married man my mother had the affair with—not the man she ended up marrying. He owned the language school where she’d signed up to do an English course with the prize money from the competition. When he found out she was pregnant he dumped her. She never forgave him for it. My stepfather met my mother around the same time. He was crazy about her and stepped in and offered to marry her.’
Sidonie’s chin lifted imperceptibly.
‘She was avaricious and selfish. No one knows that better than me and my aunt. And my stepfather, who stood by her despite the public humiliation she put him through. She put us all through hell when she ended up being prosecuted, and yet my stepfather never once let me feel anything less than his own child. She was put in jail for two years when I was eight years old. I had to endure taunts at school every day, because we couldn’t afford to move until she was released from prison.’
Sidonie’s voice shook with passion.
‘I spent my whole life dreading someone finding out about her past. That’s why I don’t talk about it. But I am not her, and you had no right to assume I was like her—no matter what evidence you thought you had...’
She recalled one of the things he’d hurled at her. ‘Not even the fact that I told you I liked jewellery. I’m a woman, Alexio. A lot of women like glittery shiny things. It doesn’t mean we’re all inveterate gold-diggers.’
Alexio stood up too, and immediately a flare of awareness made Sidonie take a step back. His eyes flashed at her movement and something tightened between them.
His mouth was a grim line. ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t give you the chance to tell me this, for misjudging you and for leaving you to go through what you have for the past few months. You should never have had to deal with this on your own...’
The lines of his face grew stark and his voice roughened.
‘But I’m not sorry you’re pregnant. I want this baby too.’
He came closer and everything in Sidonie tightened with anticipation. She tried to ignore it.
Heavily, Alexio continued, ‘I should tell you why I jumped to such conclusions. My mother was the most cynical person I’ve ever known. She taught me not to trust at an early age, and the world and my peers have only confirmed her lesson. I’m used to lovers as cynical as I have become. You were so different from anyone I’ve ever met before...’
His words resounded in Sidonie’s head, shocking her. She felt weakened by this mutual confessional. The hard knot of tension and pain inside her felt as if it was dissolving, treacherously.
Alexio went on. ‘My parents’ marriage was not happy. It was sterile, loveless. I told you why I decided to break with my father...but there’s more to it than that. Once he beat my mother. I rushed in to stop him, to protect her, but she put me out of the room and went back in and closed the door, shutting me out.’
Alexio’s mouth twisted.
‘She didn’t want or need my protection—not even then... And that’s why I wanted nothing more to do with my father.’
Sidonie’s heart clenched. She felt increasingly vulnerable and was aware that only inches separated them now. When had they even moved that close?
Alexio’s hand closed around one upper arm, warm against her bare skin, setting off a chain reaction.
‘I’m sorry, Sidonie. Truly.’
Something moved between them. Something fragile and yet something very earthy too.
But Sidonie was reeling. It was too much. She pulled her arm free and said weakly, ‘I’m tired now. I should go to bed.’
