Gravitate (45 page)

“Claudia, I hate to bother you, but we need the company’s certificate of being a
n equal opportunities employer.
Your dad went on the training, I wondere
d if the certificate was here.”
He looked sincere and I welcomed him into my home instantly.

“Dad left all the important documents in his office upstairs, will you help me look?”

“Of course.
If it’s here it won’t take long to find.”

We sat in my dad’s office, riffling through his desk, search
ing the documents it contained.
I laughed as Sam discovered some of my old school reports and read them aloud.

“Claudia is an extremely conscientious worker who always gives of her very best…The quality of Claudia’s work has gone from strength to strength…Claudia is a valuable and loyal contributor to the music department…Are you sure this is about you?  Or did you bribe the teacher?  Oh wait…The presentation of written work could be improved at times…definitely you!”

I threw a balled up piece of paper at him and continued sifting
through the papers in my hand.
I read something that made me gasp audibly.

“Claudia?”

I handed him the certificate I’d foun
d and dissolved to the ground. I found it hard to breathe.
If there had been a rug underneath me, it was well and truly
pulled out from under my feet.
I focussed on breathing, trying to comp
rehend the words I’d just read.
Sam was unnatu
rally silent. I looked at him.
He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“You didn’t know?” Sam asked.

I could feel my mouth open, but didn’
t have the ability to close it.
The shock set in and I started to tremble.

“You didn’t know. Oh my God.
You shoul
dn’t have found out like this.
O
h, Princess, this is all wrong.
I thought you knew.”

He put his arms around me and that’s when I realis
ed I was crying uncontrollably.
Both our fingers let go of the piece of paper, and the certificate that stated I was adopted
floated silently to the ground.

Chapter 31

When I was done crying my heart out, I asked Sam
what he knew about my adoption.
He didn’t know the details, only that my parents had adopt
ed me at the age of six months.
He’d honestly thought I knew already and was mortified to
have awakened me to the truth.
My next source o
f information was Aunt Sandra.
Sam stayed with me as I phoned her.

“Aunt Sandra?”

“Claudia? How are you?”

I took a deep breath.
“Sandra, I found a certificate that says I’m
adopted.
What can you tell me?”

I heard the squeak of a chair as she s
at down.
“I’d been telling them for years that they needed to let you know, but they were so happy, they didn’t want to upset things.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Your mum and dad tried
to have babies. It didn’t happen. They tried for years.
They were offered the chance to adopt a six month old b
aby girl and they jumped at it.
You were perfect, the
little angel they’d prayed for.
They kept trying for one of their own, but it never happened.”

“But I have my dad’s eyes…my mum’s hair…” I was crying again, having convinced myself it was a mistake until it was confirmed by Sandra.

“Honey, you have brown eyes and so did your dad…and your mum started dyeing her hair copper when they adopted
you.
She went as far as hiding all the colour photos from before they adopted you.” Sandra’s words sunk in and I realised something.

“I’ve only ever seen black and white photos of her…what colour was her hair naturally?”

“Blonde.”

“Oh my God, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes, darling.”

“I have to go.”

“Claudia, you have to know, they didn’t want to hurt you.”

I hung up on my aunt, not wanting to hear anymore, knowing that the limited family I thought I held
a claim to was not truly mine.
Sam pulled me close to him.

“You knew,” I sobbed, “and you never told me.”

“I didn’t know you didn’t know.” Sam kissed the top of my head.

“But you loved me anyway.”

“I do.”

I let his arms
wrap around me and envelop me.

“You’re my family now,” I said. I had no-one else left.
We fell asleep on the sofa together, his arms cradling me, as I cried tears that outnumbered the lies my parents had told me.

Most people would have assumed that Sam and I were an item from that point on, but the truth wa
s we hadn’t kissed on the lips.
Emotionally, I was connected to him, seeking solace in his companionship, but romantic
ally things were still on hold.
He was living up to his promis
e of waiting until I was ready.
My life became absorbed by three tasks: making it through rehearsals without enduring Donna’s wrath; finding out as much as I could about my life before I was adopted; finding the
bottom of Sam’s box of filing.

The first task was easy – I was word perfect and foot perfect for the show and avoided most of the caust
ic remarks thrown out by Donna.
The second task was impossible, a shroud of secrecy stopping me
from making any headway at all.
Th
e third task was the most fun.
I got to waltz straight through to Sam’s office in front of Andrea and I was always treate
d to a nice meal afterwards.

Sam never overstepped the firm boundaries I’d placed
on him.
There was no kissing, except the odd p
eck on the cheek on his behalf.
Any touching was strictly above belt and suita
ble for your granny to observe. Any talk of love was banned.
I couldn’t bear to hear him speak of his feelings for me when
I felt unable to reciprocate.

One evening, over dinner at an Italian restaurant in the town centre, Sam managed to drop another unintended bombshell in my lap.

“Claudia, are you happy spending time with me?”

“Yes, more happy tha
n I’ve been in a long time.”
In my head, I added a few conditionals – since my parents died, since Marty left me.

“Good.
If there was someone else, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“There’s no-one else,” on this planet, “what is this about?”

He looked away. “Your dad was worried
your mum was having an affair.
I don’t ever wan
t to worry like that about you.
If you want someone else, please just tell me.”

“Was she having an affair?” I was gobsmacked, shocked to my very core.

“I couldn’t tell you, but your dad was convinced.”

I dropped my
fork.
“Oh my God…I can’t believe I didn’t realise…There were condoms in her handbag – but if she and my dad couldn’t have babies, why would she need condoms…Oh my God…it was true?”

“Oh, Claudia, I’m sure there’s another rea
son.”
Sam looked embarrassed, his cheeks deepening slightly.

He called the waiter over for the bill whil
e I tried to keep my composure.
We both knew
there was no other explanation.
For an infertile woman to keep condoms in her handbag meant only one thing – she didn’t want to get a s
exually transmitted disease.

We left the restaurant and
I ran to vomit in an alleyway.
Sam was right behind me, h
olding my hair out of the way.
I was mortified.

“This is awful, I only had one drink of wine…” I stuttered in between heaves.

“It’s emotio
n. You had a big shock.
It can take its toll in physical ways.”

“If you ever fancied me, you won’t after this…” I heaved again.

“I’m taking it as training for when you’re pregnant.”

I paused from being sick to look at him f
or a moment.
“Jumping the gun much…” and I vomited again.

“Just a thoug
ht…” he said, rubbing my back.

“Donna’s going to kill me.”

“Who?”

“The director of the show.
I’ll look like shit after this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve not been sick much in my life, but when I am it shows – I even get little spots on my eyes where the blood vessels break with the force of being sick.”

I tilted my head bac
k and breathed in the cold air.
I would have giv
en my kingdom for chewing gum.

“I’ll bet you still look adorable.”

“She bloody won’t th
ink so.
Only a few days before the show too.”

“Do I get to come and watch?”

“Of course, Ben got you tickets, didn’t he?”

“I didn’t mean as Ben’s dad, I meant as your boyfriend.”

I was saved from answering immediately by anot
her wave of nausea.
As I recovered
, I thought about his request.
It wasn’t that much of a leap from t
he companionship we shared now.
However, before I collected my thoughts in
to a reply, he spoke again:

“Come on, Princess, let me take you home, you don’t have to decide anything
right now.”

I managed to refrain from being sick in th
e car, but it was a close call.
I ran full pelt into my house, brandishing my house key like an offensive weapon, running into the downstairs cloakroom to be sick as so
on as we were back.
I could hear Sam’s footsteps as he entered the house and closed the front door.

“Princess?” Sam called.

I w
as in two minds to answer him.
I wanted him to comfort me, which he was especially good at, but I didn’t want him to see me being sick again.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” I replied.

My brain searched for an alternative reason why an infert
ile woman might carry condoms.
I
could find no viable reasons.
My mother mu
st have been having an affair.

I eventually emerged from the cloakr
oom, shamefaced.
I’d expected Sam to leave, but he was waiting in the living room.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

I looked at him and shook my head, sadly.

“Do you want a cuddle?”

I nodded slowly
and walked to his waiting arms.
They weren’t the arms I longed fo
r, but they were available.

I bit my lip, out
of his eyesight, and hesitated.
“You know you said if I ever felt lonely, you’d be there.”

I could feel his eyes l
ooking at the back of my head.

“I’m not ready for…well, you know…but I don’t want to be alo
ne tonight.”
I hated saying the words, hated being dependent on someone who wasn’t Marty, but I’d realised he wasn’t coming back.

“I told you I’d stay with you as long as you wanted.”

Sam guided me to bed that night, stripping down to his shirt and boxer
s to preserve my modesty.
I brushed my teeth thoroughly and emerged from the shower room wearing a
vest and long jersey trousers.
Spending the night wit
h Sam was pleasant, comforting.
I briefly wondered how many boys my age would be able to cope with sleeping next to the object of their affection,
without becoming overwhelmed.

I awoke wrapped in his arms. It felt nice.
Not the same as waking up with Marty – noth
ing would ever feel like that.
I tried to wipe Marty from my memory, knowing he would never come back – I’d never know a
love like that again.

Sam went down to the kitchen while I had a shower and
when I’d finished I joined him.
I
could smell coffee and toast.

“You can’t go to
rehearsal on an empty stomach.”

“Thank you for last night,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn.