There was a moment of silence, slight confusion on his face, before he said, ‘Well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.’
‘You’re the father,’ she said, as if that settled matters.
‘Am I?’ He scooped up the documents that he’d put on the sofa.
‘Of course you are!’ She felt a cold chill run through her veins. ‘And I thought you’d marry me, only’ – she paused, saying in a quieter voice – ‘I heard that you’re already married.’
‘That’s right. I’m married.’ He sighed, lazily getting to his feet. ‘Which, I believe, brings our conversation to a close.’
But Lucy sat frozen where she was, unable to understand what was happening.
‘I th-thought we were special friends.’
‘We are – or rather, we were. I seem to think that you, by regrettable circumstances, have brought that lovely alliance to an end.’
He walked leisurely to the door, indicating that she should do likewise.
‘But I didn’t do it on purpose.’ There was a catch in her throat, and she tried to ignore it, think of Miranda, how she would power through. ‘And you were part of it, too. You have to help me.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m afraid, since we’re not married, you are not my responsibility.’
And it was these words, delivered with a kind of amused indifference, that broke her.
Unstoppable tears came to her eyes, and she buried her face in her hands. ‘But what am I going to do?’
Something inside him gave, and he put his arm around her with an audible sigh. ‘You should have been more prepared, to be honest, but now you’re in this situation, you have two choices. Either go home to your mother and have the child adopted or get rid of it.’
‘Get rid of it?’
‘Have an abortion.’
She pulled away to look at him. ‘But isn’t that illegal?’
‘Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get one.’
Lucy had heard about places like that. There had been a girl from Cornwall who’d died after travelling to Bristol for a backstreet abortion. Of course, Lucy herself had never imagined that she’d ever be in so low a situation.
Yet here she was.
She turned to grab his arm, to beg him to give her another option – an option she knew didn’t exist.
But he shrugged her away, returning to the door.
‘I think it’s time you left, Lucy.’ His tone had changed, sombre and upright. ‘I think this is a matter for your family, your mother. You need to go home to Cornwall.’
‘But Cornwall isn’t my home – it isn’t where I belong.’ She rushed up to him, pleading. ‘My mother would cast me out once and for all.’ She began to cry. ‘I have no family, just you.’
He gave her a close-lipped smile. ‘Now, I think we both know we were never family, were we?’ He heaved an impatient sigh. ‘It was lovely knowing you, Lucy, and now it’s time for you to go.’
He opened the door, and she had no other option than to leave. Everything that could be asked of him had been gently but firmly thrown back at her, almost as if he had been through it before.
As she stood in the corridor, the door closing coldly behind her, she took a deep breath of the rich, perfumed halls, knowing that this was the end of everything.
ON THE WAY HOME, Lucy stopped at the telephone box, weighing the change in her hands. She hadn’t called her mother since she’d arrived, determined that the next time they spoke it would be with news of her stardom or, she winced, a proposal from Richard.
When her mother answered, Lucy got to the point. ‘I need to come home.’
Lucy had forgotten the sharp tone in her mother’s voice, saved specially for her. ‘No, Lucy, this isn’t the place for you.’
