Least Said (22 page)

‘It
was
no
one’s
fault
,’
I
insisted.

Jon
continued
as
if
I
hadn’t
spoken,
‘I
couldn’t
bear
it
–
the
thought
that
you
might
leave
me
if
I
couldn’t
give
you
a
child
–
and
so
I
made
it
all
about
you.
Going
so
far
as
to
convince
you
that
your
weight
was
the
problem
–
I
mean,
what
weight?
I
can’t
believe
now
that
I
could
be
so
cruel.’

‘Please
don’t,
Jon,’
I
found
myself
begging,
just
trying
to
make
him
stop
torturing
himself
and
in
the
process
torturing
me
about
a
time
I
was
desperate
to
forget.

‘If
it
hadn’t
been
for
Tina,
straight-talking
Tina,
telling
me
how
it
was,
I
might
really
have
lost
you.’

‘You
wouldn’t
have
lost
me,
Jon,
because
I
did
understand
that
you
were
behaving
that
way
because
the
low
sperm
result
make
you
feel
insecure
–
less
of
a
man,
even
–
but
you
could
never
be
less
than
a
man
to
me.’

‘Liar,’
a
voice
shrieked
inside
my
head,
and
then
it
continued
ruthlessly,
refusing
to
be
ignored,
‘He
couldn’t
get
you
pregnant
and
you
thought
he
was
having
an
affair.
You
used
both
of
those
things
to
excuse
the
fact
you
behaved
like
a
complete
slut
–
and
you
were
ruthless
enough
to
make
sure
to
spent
your
night
of
unbridled
passion
with
someone
who
stood
an
excellent
chance
of
making
you
pregnant
and
-
bingo,
you
were
proved
right.’

‘But
I
was
less
of
a
man
to
me
,’
Jon
indicated
himself
with
a
hand
pressed
to
his
chest,
‘and
I
behaved
like
one.
I
really
don’t
know
how
you
put
up
with
me.’
He
smiled
suddenly,
and
it
lit
up
his
blue
eyes,
‘but
you
did
and
after
that
it
was
better
than
it
ever
had
been
between
us
and
then
–
then
–
we
found
out
Will
was
on
the
way.
Yes,
I
know
we
agreed
we
could
live
without
children,
but
look
what
we
would
have
been
missing.’

We
looked
at
each
other,
and
there
were
tears
in
both
of
our
eyes.
Thank
goodness
Jon
could
not
have
known
that
my
tears
couldn’t
match
the
unadulterated
happiness
of
his
–
tinged,
as
they
were,
with
the
deepest
regret.

Of
course
I
didn’t
regret
having
Will,
not
ever,
not
even
for
one
moment,
but
I
did
regret
the
question
mark
that
hung
over
his
paternity.
If
only
I
could
be
certain
that
Will
had
definitely
been
born
of
the
love
that
Jon
and
I
shared,
I
knew
I
would
be
the
happiest
woman
in
the
world.

Sheer
weight
of
traffic
meant
it
was
early
evening
when
we
arrived
and
we
could
persuade
William
to
take
little
more
than
a
sip
of
his
favourite
tomato
soup
–
made
especially
for
him
by
his
Auntie
Tina
–
before
he
was
tucked
up
in
bed
and
sound
asleep
once
more.

‘He
slept
all
the
way
here,’
I
commented
with
a
frown,
‘I
hope
he’s
not
sickening
or
something.’

I
wished
I
hadn’t
voiced
my
concerns
out
loud
when
the
four
of
us
stared
at
each
other.

‘I
know
what
you’re
thinking,’
said
a
voice
from
the
doorway,
‘but
I’ve
just
been
up
and
peeped
in
on
Will
–
and
hasn’t
he
grown?
–
and
he’s
peacefully
asleep,
no
temperature,
no
restless
tossing
and
turning
that
would
indicate
a
problem.
You
can
all
stop
worrying.’

I
jumped
up
and
rushed
across
to
throw
my
arms
around
Leanne,
grateful
for
the
reassurance
and
understanding
of
Tina
and
Calum’s
beautiful
daughter
who
would
know,
having
suffered
from
viral
meningitis
as
a
teenager,
that
we
would
all
still
be
terrified
of
history
repeating
itself
with
William
contracting
the
disease,
even
after
all
this
time.

‘Look
at
you,’
I
beamed
up
at
her,
and
then
stood
back
to
take
in
the
complete
picture,
‘every
inch
the
business
woman.’

She
wore
a
sleek,
silver
grey
skirt
suit
over
a
crisp
white
blouse
and
the
sort
of
towering
stilettos
that
would
render
me
unable
to
take
a
step.
The
laptop
bag
that
was
slung
over
one
shoulder
was
quickly
discarded,
as
was
the
briefcase
she
carried.