Least Said (5 page)

‘You
don’t
really
think
so,’
I
stated,
suddenly
calm,
‘and
neither
do
I.
There’s
nothing
else
for
it,
I’ll
just
have
to
tell
Jon
the
truth.’

Tina
looked
immediately
aghast.
‘You
can’t
do
that.’
Her
voice
sounded
shrill
to
my
own
ears.
‘You
can’t
possibly
be
sure,
and
if
you
spill
the
beans
now
you’ll
be
ruining
three
lives,
more
if
the
rugby
player’s
wife
gets
to
hear
what
he’s
been
up
to.
Doesn’t
this
baby
deserve
a
father
-
a
father
like
Jon?
Do
you
want
to
bring
him
or
her
up
on
your
own?’

‘You
brought
Leanne
up
on
your
own,’
I
pointed
out.

‘Only
because,
like
you
do
now,
I
had
confused
ideas
about
right
and
wrong,
if
I
could
have
my
time
over
again
I
would
do
things
very
differently.
Being
a
single
mum
is
not
an
easy
option,
Wendy,
believe
me,
because
I
know.
Children
deserve
a
father,
especially
a
good
one
like
Jon.
He
also
deserves
this
chance.
perhaps
his
only
one,
to
be
a
father.’

‘Well,
it’s
difficult
to
argue
with
that.’

She
could
tell
I
was
wavering
and
was
quick
to
push
any
advantage
she
might
have
gained.
‘All
I’m
asking
you
to
do,’
Tina
assured
me,
‘is
to
think
very
carefully
about
the
course
of
action
you
choose
to
take
right
now,
because
the
knock-on
effect
will
continue
for
many
more
years
to
come.’

‘You
know
the
sad
thing
is
that,
after
our
heart
to
heart
Jon
just
told
me
he
can
live
without
children,
but
he
can’t
live
without
me,’
I
told
her
sadly,
adding,
‘and
I
feel
exactly
the
same
about
him.’

Tina
didn’t
say
anything.
Normally,
I
knew
she
would
always
advocate for
the
truth,
but
in
this
case,
though
she
might
have
felt
that
Jon
would
forgive
me
my
one
indiscretion
she
knew,
as
I
did,
that
it
would
always
be
there
between
us.
If
I
kept
quiet,
only
I
would
have
to
live
with
it,
and
she
obviously
somehow
felt
that
would
be
punishment
enough
for
someone
like
me
–
and
she
was
absolutely
right.

I
took
some
persuading
to
at
least
take
the
time
to
think
things
through
thoroughly,
though
as
Tina
pointed
out,
the
whole
thing
might
turn
out
to
be
no
more
than
a
false
alarm.
In
the
end,
as
she
told
me
quite
simply,
it
really
was
up
to
me
what
I
did.

All
she
could
do
was
to
offer
some
extra
advice
that
was
obviously
heartfelt,
and
that
was,
‘Don’t
do
anything
in
haste,
because
that’s
what
I
did,
and
I’ve
certainly
lived
to
regret
it.’

Chapter 2

Don’t do anything in haste
.

That’s
what
Tina
had
so
wisely
advised,
and
I
had
taken
her
at
her
word
,
letting
the
days
and
weeks
pass
in
an
absolute
agony
of
indecision.
Days
and
weeks
when
it
became
increasingly
clear
that
the
pregnancy
was
a
fact
of
life
and
that
a
decision
was
going
to
have
to
be
made
pretty
soon
about
how
I
was
going
to
handle
things.

The
thought
of
an
abortion
did
not
even
cross
my
mind
at
any
point,
because
I
had
already
accepted
that
this
would
almost
certainly
be
my
only
chance
of
becoming
a
mother.
It
was
a
chance
I
wasn’t
about
to
pass
up
on.
So,
the
question
was
,
should
I
confess
all
to
Jon
in
the
hope
that
he
would
forgive
me
and
accept
there
was
a
very
good
chance
the
child
I
was
carrying
was
his,
or
should
I
keep
quiet
and
simply
let
him
believe
the
child
was
his
and
live
what
could
be
a
lie
for
the
rest
of
my
life.

Since
our
heart
to
heart,
Jon
and
I
had
been
happier
than
we’d
been
for
years,
and
it
was
that
–
and
the
rest
of
Tina’s
argument
–
that
finally
persuaded
me
to
brazen
things
out.

“If
you
spill
the
beans
now
you’ll
be
ruining
three
lives,”
Tina
had
said,
and
followed
it
up
with,
“Doesn’t
this
baby
deserve
a
father,
a
father
like
Jon?
And
doesn’t
Jon
also
deserve
this
chance
-
perhaps
the
only
one
he
will
get
-
to
be
a
father?”

Yes,
I
thought,
he
does
,
but
I
also
knew
this
wasn’t
some
harmless
little
secret,
like
lying
about
the
price
of
a
pair
of
shoes.
Before
I
made
my
final
decision
I
had
to
be
quite
certain
I
was
capable
of
wrapping
up
any
doubts
I
had
about
the
baby’s
paternity
and
putting
them
away
forever.
Once
the
decision
was
made,
there
could
be
no
going
back
–
not
ever.

*

Jon’s
complete
and
unadulterated
joy
when
I
announced
my
news
was
enough
to
convince
me
that
I
had
done
the
right
thing.

‘You’re
quite
sure
?’
he
asked
me
several
times,
before
laughing
out
loud
as
he
gathered
me
up
in
his
arms
and
spun
me
round
–
obviously
never
doubting
for
a
moment
that
the
child
I
carried
was
his.

He
laughed
and
then
he
cried;
we
both
did
–
and
so
the
dye
was
cast.
In
all
honesty
I
could
think
of
very
few
moments
over
the
six
years
since
William
was
born
that
I’d
had
cause
to
question
my
decision.
I
certainly
didn’t
regret
it
–
though
I
did
spend
an
awful
lot
of
time
in
the
early
days
examining
his
baby
features
for
any
definite
confirmation
that
he
was
Jon’s
son.

Will
had
very
little
hair
when
he
was
born,
and
when
it
turned
out
to
be
dark
it
was
something
of
a
relief.
Though
had
he
been
fair
it
would
really
have
proved
nothing,
since
both
Jon
and
the
Adonis
were
fair
but,
as
I
was
dark
haired,
he
obviously
took
after
me
in
that
department.

When
I
gave
it
any
thought
–
which
was
less
and
less
as
time
went
on
–
all
that
I
ever
recalled
of
the
other
guy
was
the
blond
hair
and
how
very
tall
he
had
been.
Bumping
into
him
like
that
and
recognising
him
so
instantly
proved
that
I
had
remembered
far
more
than
I’d
thought
I
had,
not
least
his
amazing
green
eyes.
What
I
hadn’t
expected
to
see
was
that
his
hair
was
dark
hair
these
days,
so
what
on
earth
had
happened
to
the
blond
locks?

Highlights
he
had
grown
tired
of
was
the
obvious
answer,
but
now
I
had
to
give
Will
and
the
rugby
player
dark
hair
in
common
and,
although
Will’s
eyes
weren’t
exactly
green,
they
were
hazel
which
was
a
combination
-
if
what
I’d
read
when
I
Googled
the
subject
of
eye
colour
was
correct
-
of
brown
and
green.
My
eyes
were
brown,
but
Jon’s
eyes
were
blue.