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She nodded, placed her napkin neatly on her lap just as Henry had done. “She said when you came back from meeting with them, she couldn’t bring herself to tell you she was pregnant.”
Henry looked surprised. “Oh, but she was there. With me. When I told my parents.”
Alice’s eyes rounded.
“She didn’t tell you that?”
“No.” More omissions. Would she ever be able to trust Rowena again?
As if Henry read her tightening features, he said gently, “Your mother is a good woman, Alice. She may have been misguided in not telling us, but her heart is as big as an ocean. Even when I’d dashed her hopes, she insisted on coming with me to tell my parents. They had always assumed that Rowena was my girlfriend. They didn’t approve, naturally.” Henry rolled his eyes. “I mean, a girl from the Antipodes, god forbid. You’d think she’d just got off a convict ship. However, that was better than having to swallow the unpalatable truth that their only son was homosexual.”
They stopped talking as their food arrived. As the waiter left, Henry resumed. “I think my father would have set the hounds on me but for the fact your mother stood up to him. She was amazing. A lioness. She let him know what a bigot he was, how he didn’t deserve me as his son.” His expression went distant for a second. “I will never forget it—how she stayed with me afterwards, helped me through the toughest few weeks of my life… and then…” Henry snapped his fingers in the air. “Gone. She went home to Australia. I wrote copious letters. Finally, she broke off all contact. I had to respect her choice, even though I sent her Christmas cards for years. I assumed she’d moved on. I was sad, but the strength her actions had instilled in me never left me. It gave me the courage to let the world know I was gay, which, when you’re in an establishment like Cambridge, is not the easiest of things, believe me. Eventually I learned to shout it from the rooftops. Well,”—he laughed—“maybe shouting isn’t quite my style. I just knew I never wanted another young person to go through what I did. But still, it happens…” Henry shook his head, his brows drawn tight. “Even now, it happens… the prejudice, the lack of acceptance.”
“Did you speak to your father again, before he died?” Alice asked quietly.
“When he was very sick we made peace of a sort. It wasn’t exactly what one would call cathartic—there was no deathbed reunion, no ‘I love you, my boy’. No apology. He was a product of his generation, I get that. But we said our farewells.” His face brightened. “And Mother and I are good friends now. She adores Gabe. I think once she was out from under my father’s shadow she could be more the person she really is. A bit of a strange bird, but basically a jolly good soul.”
“Do I have aunts and uncles?”
“You have an aunt. My sister, Hilary. Five years my senior. She’s married to a pig farmer in Wiltshire and throws pots.” He laughed. “Not literally. She’s a potter. Her daughter, your first cousin, Felicity, is as close as I thought I’d ever get to having my own child. She’s a teacher. But now there’s you…” Henry’s face creased into delightful upward lines as he smiled across at her. “And here we are!”
“Here we are.” Alice felt a lump in her throat. As they both raised their glasses in a toast, she added, “Perhaps we should text Mum back. She’ll be wondering what on earth is happening.”
Henry got up, placed his napkin on the table. “We’ll send her a photo of us at dinner, shall we?” He winked. “Make her a teeny bit jealous.” As the waiter came back with their drinks, he asked, “Would you mind taking a shot of my daughter and I? Her mother is expecting it.”
He came and leaned over her chair, his hand gently resting on her shoulder, their heads close together.
On a whim, Alice let her hand creep up and felt the warm, reassuring squeeze of Henry’s fingers around hers.
The camera flashed. The waiter showed them the results. Two slightly startled smiles. Light reflecting off two pairs of glasses.
Her and Henry. Two peas in a pod.
Later, as they said goodnight at the elevator, Henry said, “Having you at my keynote tomorrow will give me courage.”
“Do you still worry about talking in public?”
“Often. But one learns to manage these things. The things that do not kill us make us stronger.”
Alice nibbled her lip and nodded. There was so much truth in that. It had taken two very huge events in quick succession—one heart-lifting, the other heart-breaking—to catapult her into the world. There was no going back now.
And if one part of her felt like there was still a bottomless hole waiting to swallow her up if she tripped; well, she was going to step right over it and keep on walking, wasn’t she?
“I think we should have a hug, don’t you?” Henry said.
Alice moved into his embrace. He smelled lovely, of sandalwood, and wool and the tiniest hint of mothballs. Suddenly she wanted to open her heart to him about Aaron. Let out all the pain. She was sure Henry would understand in a way Rowena never could.
After the conference, she resolved, she would tell him.
She gave him a little wave as the lift doors closed, and Henry waved back, his hand held close to his body in the same way she’d done since she was a child.
Yes, Henry would definitely understand.
