Alexandra’s face burnt, with shame and anger, and tears welled in her eyes. ‘I had a life here in London,’ she whispered. ‘I was to be a musician, I was in love, I—’
‘Found yourself pregnant,’ Hope said gently. ‘Babies have a way of changing plans and turning lives upside down.’
‘No,’ Alexandra said. ‘What happened was that my father returned for me, because I was the only way for him to live the life he wants. I’m nothing more than a pawn for him to use to his advantage.’
‘Alexandra, what you’ll come to realise here is that I don’t pressure the girls in my care to do anything they don’t want to do. You will have the time to consider your options.’
‘Even though my father has paid you handsomely to have me here? You would truly have me believe that anything is my choice?’
Hope nudged her mug of tea closer to her. ‘Trust is something that is earned,’ she said. ‘And over time you will learn that you can trust me.’
Alexandra curled her fingers around the hot mug, flinching when it burnt her.
‘Your father has paid me to house you for the coming months and to provide birthing services,’ Hope explained. ‘Families such as yours like my discretion when it comes to who stays here and the adoptions that I arrange, but this is not a prison. You are free to walk out the door whenever you want. I only ask that you tell me if you’re not returning, so I can give your bed to another young woman in need.’
Alexandra took a sip of her tea, her heart finally slowing, her body no longer telling her to flee. ‘I can really leave?’
Hope nodded. ‘You can leave.’
She reached for a biscuit and slowly looked up at Hope. ‘My mother would never have sent me here.’
‘Your mother is dead?’
Alexandra nodded, nibbling at the edge of the biscuit. ‘When I was twelve.’
‘And what of the baby’s father?’ Hope asked gently. ‘Does he even know you’re
expecting?’
Alexandra shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Well, there’s plenty of time for you to tell me your story, when you’re good and ready,’ Hope said. ‘How about we finish our tea for now, and then I can take you up to show you to your room?’
It wasn’t that Alexandra couldn’t tell how kind Hope was, and she was already inclined to trust her. Her problem was that all she could think of was Bernard, and every fibre in her body was telling her to run to him, to let him hold her in his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. Only Bernard was gone. And the only other place she wanted to go was home to her aunt and uncle’s, but she knew she couldn’t do that either. She was pregnant and unmarried; the last thing she could do was to be an embarrassment and a burden to them, not after everything they’d already done for her.
* * *
Five months later, Alexandra walked along the street, stopping outside and staring at the Royal Festival Hall. She’d come during the day, so there was little chance of seeing anyone, and it was the only place she felt close to Bernard. She’d been tempted to go to his flat once she knew he was home from the tour, to bravely march up to his door and knock early one morning or late one night, to confess what had happened, but something had kept holding her back.
You will ruin his life. Her father’s words echoed in her mind every time she thought of Bernard. In her heart, she believed they were far from the truth, but still she couldn’t bring herself to find him. And it was the same with her aunt—she’d been so close to going to her so many times, but somehow she’d always stopped herself.They took you in out of the goodness of their hearts, but even they aren’t soft-hearted enough to take in a girl with a bastard baby on the way. She hated that she kept hearing his words, but he’d been right on both counts, as loath as she was to admit it.
She touched her palm to her rounded stomach and shut her eyes, as the sun shone from high above, warming her skin as she stood in front of the building where she’d first met Bernard. The place she’d been destined to play, the place she’d imagined performing in ever since she’d first seen Bernard perform.
When she opened her eyes, she looked around, as if expecting someone to be watching her. But there was no one. Alexandra sighed and smoothed her hands down her skirt before quietly walking away.
She would catch the bus home soon, arriving back well before dark so as not to worry Hope, but for now she was going to sit on the steps and finally read the letter from her father. She’d been carrying it in her pocket for days, almost too afraid to see what he had to say.
All those months and then years she’d waited for a letter from him, when she was younger at her aunt’s house; all those birthdays she’d prayed that he would remember her and send her something as simple as a note.
Alexandra,
I trust you are well and that your condition is not too overbearing. Soon this will all be behind you, and we can move forwards with the plans I’ve put in place.
You are to be married to Peter Andino in the autumn, which I hope brings you great joy. It is an arrangement that suits both of our families, although I am certain you will find happiness with your new husband. He is a widower in search of a companion, and I have assured him that once you return from your studies abroad, you will be an excellent match.
Finally, I ask that anything of value of your mother’s that you may have in your possession be sent to me at once.
Regards, your father
