Page 68 of Love Is: Two Bodies One Soul

‘Why Dormouse?’

‘She suffered from nerves, at least that’s how dad described it. She was easily frightened, spent a lot of time sleeping in bed, didn’t like to go out. Dad used to call her his timid little Dormie, always hibernating.’

‘So you realised Henry must have known her?’

‘Yes. I challenged him about the name, and that’s when he told me. Turns out, he and my mother had an affair. A long one. They met back in 1980 before Mum developed agoraphobia. Back then, she worked as a legal secretary. Temporary positions. Even then, her mental health was too flaky for her to take on anything permanent. According to Henry, Dad was away on a tour of duty somewhere in the world, and Mum was working in London for the firm of lawyers, where Henry was a junior barrister. He said it was an instant attraction.’

‘Did your dad know?’

‘Yes, apparently, he did. The affair continued for at least seven years. I have a feeling ….’ Owen stopped, drained his glass and went on. ‘I know Henry was still lurking in the shadows of my life even when I went to university. Whether they were still lovers, I don’t know. But they were together long enough for Henry to father two children.’

‘Two?’

‘Yes. Me and my little sister.’

‘But how could he be so certain he was the father?’ Lexie shifted, leaning forward to refill Owen’s glass.

‘Because …,’ Owen paused, looked away, swallowing hard. This was impossible. But everything made sense now. ‘Because according to Henry, my dad was gay and never consummated his marriage.’ Choking, he threw back all the newly refreshed whisky so that his eyes watered.

‘Do you believe that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Owen, no wonder you’re shocked.’ Lexie filled his glass again, and he looked gratefully at her.

‘Shocked is an understatement.’

‘Why do you think it is true? Couldn’t Henry be lying?’

‘He’s not. His version of my life makes sense. So many strange things in my childhood and weird things my dad said. They fit now. It has to be true.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve lost the only man I ever thought of as a father. He was everything I respected. Quiet, thoughtful, a brave man of honour. I wanted to be like him. Now I never can be.’

‘What did Henry say about your dad?’

‘He was a good man.’

‘Then you are like him.’

* * *

Later,in bed, Owen held on tightly to Lexie, her naked back warm against his belly, her curls tickling his chin. They had made slow, slightly drunken love, and now all he wanted was sleep, but it would not come to him, and with Lexie’s quiet, steady breathing an indicator she was asleep, he felt alone. He shifted carefully, trying to free his arms without waking her, thinking he might go for a walk along the darkened promenade. Try to get his head together.

‘It explains one thing,’ she said, sounding very awake.

‘What? Sorry, I was trying not to wake you.’

‘It’s all right. I wasn’t asleep.’

‘What does it explain?’

‘Mathew. Your little brother.’

‘Did you think he—’

‘Think he was your son? I suspected. It seemed the only explanation for such a strong resemblance.’

‘Lex, I’m sorry—’

‘Why were you trying to sneak away from my bed again?’

‘I wasn’t sneaking. I couldn’t sleep. I was going to go for a walk. Only a short one – I planned on coming back.’

‘I should hope so.’ He could hear laughter in her voice, and she shuffled around in his arms, saying, ‘But I’ve got a better way for you to use your surplus energy.’

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