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This time the silence was longer. Her mother put down her own cup almost unthinkingly, swallowing several times as if her throat was suddenly very dry.
Then she said quietly, ‘It’s Demetri’s, I suppose.’
Jane’s shoulders sagged. ‘Yes.’
‘Oh, Jane!’ She’d expected many things from her mother, but not sympathy. ‘How long have you known? Is this why you really went out to Greece?’
‘No!’ Jane shook her head. ‘Demetri doesn’t know. He mustn’t know. He’s going to marry someone else.’
Her mother stared at her in disbelief. ‘You’re not serious!’
‘I am.’
‘But Jane, how can you let him marry someone else when you’re expecting his child? You’re not making any sense.’
Jane sighed. ‘Mum, my being pregnant makes no difference to—to our feelings for one another.’
‘I can’t believe that.’
Jane bit her lip. ‘What happened between Demetri and me was—a mistake. It should never have happened.’
‘So why did it?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Jane was glad now she hadn’t told her mother why Demetri wanted a divorce. ‘I was—upset, and he—he—’
‘Took advantage of you.’
‘No, it wasn’t like that.’
‘So what was it like?’
Jane felt the colour enter her cheeks at the question. ‘Mum, please. It happened. Can’t you just accept that?’
Her mother looked at her closely. ‘Don’t you usually take precautions on—on occasions like this?’
‘I don’t usually have occasions like this,’ replied Jane honestly. ‘It was reckless, I know. But my period was due and—’
‘And you thought you’d be OK?’
‘Yes.’
‘Dear lord!’
‘I know. It was stupid. I realise that now.’
‘I wonder how many young women have said that.’ Mrs Lang got up from the sofa to pace restlessly about the room. ‘And let’s face it, he’s just as much to blame.’
‘He probably thought the same as you: that I’d take care of it.’ She shrugged. ‘It wasn’t something we discussed at the time.’
‘Even so—’
‘Mum, this isn’t Demetri’s problem. It’s mine. And I want to keep it that way.’
‘Humph.’ Her mother snorted. ‘That man seems to make a habit of fathering children with women he shouldn’t.’ She hesitated. ‘I assume you saw—what was her name?—Ianthe, while you were there.’
Jane bent her head. ‘I saw her, yes.’
‘And is that who he’s going to marry?’
‘No.’ Jane hesitated. Then she said, ‘Ianthe’s baby died.’
Her mother’s brows ascended. ‘Really? How convenient!’
‘It wasn’t like that.’ Jane had to defend the other girl. ‘I believe she was very upset.’
‘And was Demetri upset, too?’
‘I think so.’ She paused and then added, ‘He still maintains the baby wasn’t his.’
Mrs Lang stared at her. ‘You don’t believe him, do you?’
Jane made a helpless gesture. ‘N…o.’
‘That’s something, anyway.’ Her mother’s face mirrored her relief. ‘So what do you plan to do? Bring up the child yourself?’
‘That’s one option, obviously.’
‘One option?’ Mrs Lang frowned. ‘What other options have you got? If you’re not going to involve Demetri…’ The words trailed away and, when she spoke again, there was real concern in her voice. ‘You wouldn’t consider not—not having the baby, would you? I mean,’ she rushed on, ‘there’s no need for any hasty decisions. I’d be happy to do what I can and I know Lucy would help out.’
‘Oh, Mum!’ Jane felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘The last thing you need is a baby here.’
‘If it makes the difference between you having the baby and not, there’s no argument,’ retorted her mother firmly. She glanced about the cluttered room with impatient eyes. ‘It’s time I had a clear-out. Lucy’s always telling me that. And don’t forget, that baby’s my grandchild, just as much as Paul and Jessica.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ said Jane chokily, getting up and enfolding the older woman in her arms. ‘I do love you, you know.’
‘I should hope you do.’ Mrs Lang tried to sound indignant and didn’t quite make it. ‘Now drink your tea. Pregnant young women need to keep their strength up.’
