“You mean he broke it off with you?” Rachel had hoped her sister had had enough self-respect to break it off first.
“It looks that way. I told him about Nathan.” She paused. “He didn’t like that I had a kid.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d start thinking of him as a father for Nathan, I suppose. He wanted a fling, and he was afraid I wanted more. So he scarpered.” She let out a hard laugh. “It’s happened only about a million times before, all over the world.”
Rachel hesitated. “Is that what happened with Nathan’s dad?”
Meghan stilled, her arms wrapped around her middle, her expression turning guarded. “Not exactly. He wasn’t in the picture to begin with.”
“You’ve never talked about him.”
“You’ve never asked.”
“That’s because it was glaringly obvious you didn’t want me to.” Rachel turned off the taps, leaving the blackened pan to soak. She’d had enough of useless scrubbing. “Do you want me to now?”
Meghan didn’t answer for a moment. Rachel waited, not sure how to navigate this fragile peace. “He wasn’t from here,” Meghan said finally. “He was hiking with some friends from uni. I met him down at the beach.”
“And?”
“And? What do you think?” Meghan rolled her eyes. “We had a couple of beers down on the beach and got it on. Nathan wasthe result. By the time I knew I was up the duff, he was halfway to Robin Hood’s Bay.”
“It only takes ten days to hike to Robin Hood’s Bay.”
“Whatever. He was back home, then, in Southampton or wherever.”
“And you didn’t try to get in touch?”
Meghan was silent for a long moment, her face averted. “I tried. I looked him up on Facebook.” A pause as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger and then tugged hard. “He refused my friend request. Dangers of dating in the cyber age, I suppose.”
Rachel processed that for a few seconds. “You didn’t try to get in touch another way?”
“I sent him a message on Facebook. It’s probably in his ‘other’ folder. Or he just ignored it. What else was I supposed to do?” She sighed impatiently. “He was eighteen, Rachel, about to start university. I don’t think he wanted a kid with the tart he hooked up with while hiking.”
“But you wanted a kid.” Rachel paused, not sure how to ask the next question. Meghan guessed it anyway.
“Why did I keep Nathan?” she asked, her voice low even though he was safely asleep upstairs. “Because I wanted someone to love me. Someone who has to love me, because that’s what kids do.” She took a quick, hitched breath. “You’re not the only one who was affected by Dad leaving the way he did. I know you were his favorite, but I missed him too.”
They never talked about their father. Never talked about how he walked out one day, never to return or even to look back. Never to send a single e-mail or text or postcard. What kind of dad did that? Rachel remembered sitting on his shoulders while they watched the rugby in Whitehaven, flying a kite on the beach, the fierce wind reducing it to tatters. She remembered sitting with him outside in the garden while he whittled a pieceof wood to make her a whistle. Meghan had memories like that as well; Rachel had simply never considered them before.
“Of course you did.” She felt her throat close up. “I never meant to act as if you didn’t....”
“No? You acted like you were the only one who was hurt by Dad’s leaving. Like he left you and not all of us.” Meghan spoke flatly, without reproach, but Rachel felt skewered.
“Meghan, I didn’t...” She trailed off, unable to continue. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I felt I’d lost the most by having to leave Durham.” The admission was both obvious and painful.
“I know. You were escaping.” Meghan sighed, pushing her hair away from her face. “I thought about not calling you.”
“What? How on earth would you have coped?”
“I realized I couldn’t, not with Lily and Mum and school. But I waited.” She paused, her level gaze meeting Rachel’s. “I waited three days before I called you. Because I knew it would be worst for you.”
Rachel blinked, stunned by her sister’s admission. “Meghan, I’m sorry.”
“For Dad leaving? That wasn’t your fault.”
“No, for—for being such a bitch.” Rachel let out a shaky laugh. “For thinking I was doing it all when I really wasn’t.”
