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There was consternation in her face now, and her mouth worked until words came.
‘Kaz? No—you don’t understand—Kaz wasn’t Benji’s father,’ she said faintly.
He stilled, as if she had struck him. ‘Then who—?’ He frowned—what was happening?
She felt his arms around her slacken, and drew back.
‘I…I don’t know.’
His face darkened. ‘Come?’
She swallowed. ‘I don’t know who Benji’s father is. You see—’
He stepped away. Tension was in every line of his body.
‘You do not know who fathered him?’
There was a haunted look in her eyes, but he ignored it. Inside he felt a slow-burning fuse of anger ignite.
‘You have been with so many men you do not know which one got you pregnant?’
The biting harshness of his words flayed her. He could see she looked stricken, appalled, but he struck again. ‘So this Kaz you spoke of—this tragic loss—is just a sob story—to soften me?’
She took another step backwards. ‘You don’t understand,’ she whispered.
His mouth twisted. ‘Oh, I understand, all right. I understand the truth now. I thought to defend you—to prove that my insults were untrue! But however misfortunate your life there is no excuse—none—for indulging in promiscuity so great that you could not even be bothered to choose a single father for your child.’ Disgust filled his face. ‘Did you never stop to consider the effect of your total irresponsibility upon an innocent child? Are you yourself not living proof of the fruits of such irresponsibility? And yet you do it again, to your own son.’
‘Benji has me!’ she cried anguishedly. ‘I will never leave him, never!’
His face stilled.
‘A boy needs a father.’
There was something in his voice that was bleak.
‘A boy needs a father,’ he said again. ‘And you have deliberately deprived your son of that right—he will not even know who his father was! Or will you lie to him and tell him this Kaz of yours fathered him? To shield him from the truth of what his mother was?’
His voice was scornful, condemning. Angrily he strode across the room, heading for the bathroom and his own room beyond. He felt gutted, as though something wonderful, something rare and surprising, had just turned to mildew in his hands.
As she watched him go Magda stood, reeling. From passion to fury in a few moments. She felt winded. But she also knew that she had to go after him.
She reached the communicating door just as he was about to shut it, and held her hand out to halt him.
‘Rafaello,’ she said, in a low, unsteady voice, ‘I don’t know who fathered Benji, it’s true. And I know that depriving a child of its father is a terrible thing to do—but…but…please make allowances for Kaz.’
His face darkened.
‘Kaz? You just said he was not Benji’s father.’
Magda swallowed. ‘It’s true. Kaz wasn’t Benji’s father. Kaz…’ She hesitated, then said it. ‘Kaz was Benji’s mother.’
He stared at her as if she had run mad. She forced herself to go on.
‘Kaz was like a sister to me. We only ever had each other in all the world. When…when the cancer came back she went…a little mad, I think. She knew she was going to die before she had even begun to live. And she told me…she told me…’ There was a tight steel band constricting her throat, making it impossible to breathe, to talk, but she forced herself on. ‘She told me that if she couldn’t live, if she was going to be wiped out as if she had never existed, then she wanted…wanted to prove that she had existed—that if she couldn’t live she would leave a part of herself behind. Was it so wrong?’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘Was it so wrong for her to conceive a child any way she could, to leave something of herself behind? How could I tell her no? How could I, when I wasn’t facing what she was facing? All I could do was promise to raise her child and be the mother she was not going to be allowed to be. She knew I would never abandon Benji—never—because I had been abandoned myself. She knew she could trust me with him. So she gave him to me, just before…just before she died.’
The tears were rolling down her cheeks now, unstoppable, as the memories of her friend came crowding back. She stood there, her hand against the door, and could say nothing more.
Then arms came around her, strong and protecting, and gathered her up, and the tears flowed and flowed. She could hear Italian being murmured, but all she could tell of it was the comfort in his voice as she clung to him.
