‘I think the truth always works best with kids,’ Roxanne said. ‘I hated finding out I was adopted at the age of ten. I should have been told when I was much younger. I know Matthew’s only three, but he’s one smart kid. He understands far more than you give him credit for.’
Scarlett dragged her head up to meet her friend’s gaze. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I need to tell him, at least to prepare him in some way, for once Alessandro finds out the truth I’m sure he will want to take control.’
‘What sort of control are you talking about?’ Roxanne asked with a little frown of concern.
Scarlett’s bottom lip suffered another indentation with her teeth. ‘I’m not sure…but knowing him as I do I think he will want to have things his way. He’s been so confident for so long that Matthew’s not his child. It will be a blow to his ego to find out he is wrong.’
‘Do you think this is just about ego?’ Roxanne asked with another frown. ‘Most men are proud of the fact they can cut the mustard, or whatever the saying is.’
Scarlett couldn’t help smiling, but it faded as she answered, ‘I don’t really know. I’ve met plenty of men who were adamant they didn’t want children. I’ve met women just as strident about avoiding motherhood. As I said earlier, Alessandro and I never really got around to discussing the marriage-and-babies thing. I wanted to, many times, but you know how it is with a new relationship—you tread so carefully in case you scare them off.’
‘But weren’t you on the Pill?’ Roxanne asked.
Scarlett shifted her gaze from the probe of her friend’s. ‘Yes and no.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It basically means no.’
Roxanne rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, that’s what I figured.’
‘I was young and naïve,’ Scarlett said in her own defence. ‘I didn’t for a moment expect to become involved in a full-on relationship while I was overseas.’
‘Yes, well, someone should have warned you about men like Alessandro,’ Roxanne said with a wry look.
Scarlett turned to look at the screen saver and sighed again. ‘He’s missed out on so much… Maybe I should have sent him some photos right from the start. I wanted to many times, but then I thought of the way he threw me out on the street that night and I changed my mind.’
Roxanne placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault, Scarlett. You did your best and he refused to listen. Maybe it had to happen this way.’
Scarlett gave another deep sigh. ‘How am I going to tell Matthew his father is alive?’
Roxanne gave her shoulder a little squeeze. ‘You’ll think of a way.’
‘How was crèche today, darling?’ Scarlett asked as she lifted Matthew into his evening bath.
Matthew’s bottom lip came forward slightly as he settled amongst the bubbles. ‘Robert taked my car off me, one of my favourite ones.’
‘Robert took your car off you,’ she corrected automatically. ‘That’s terrible, darling. Did Mrs Bennett or Miss Fielding get it back for you?’
He shook his head and his little shoulders went down. ‘No.’
‘I’ll have a word to them about it tomorrow,’ she promised. ‘Maybe Robert doesn’t have many toys and really enjoyed playing with yours.’
‘I don’t want to go there any more,’ he said, big tears forming in his hazel eyes as he looked up at her. ‘I want to come to work wif you.’
‘Darling, you know that’s impossible. We’ve talked about this before, lots of times.’
Another little sigh puffed out of his mouth. ‘I know…’
She took a break to prepare herself. ‘Matthew, remember I told you that you didn’t have a daddy, like your cousins Angie and Sam and Michaela have?’
He nodded solemnly.
‘Well…’ She moistened her mouth and picked up a handful of bubbles, watching as they lay suspended there in the palm of her hand. ‘Well, the thing is…’
The sound of the doorbell ringing stalled the rest of her sentence. She tossed the bubbles aside and quickly pulled the plug out of the bath and, scooping Matthew up in his towel, called out, ‘Just a second.’
‘Who is it, Mummy?’ Matthew asked as Scarlett did her best to dry him as she walked to the front door of her flat. ‘Are we having pizza again?’
‘No, darling,’ she said. ‘It’s not the pizza-delivery man. It’s…it’s…’
‘A surprise?’ he asked, with excitement building in his eyes. ‘What sort of surprise?’
‘Er…I’m not sure…it could be Mrs West. She might have run out of milk again.’
Scarlett opened the door, already knowing who it was, for she had felt it in every single cell of her body at the first sound of that bell.
Alessandro stood there, his eyes going immediately to the child wriggling in her arms. Such a rush of pain, panic and guilt passed through his body he felt as if he was not going to be able to keep upright. He tried to speak, but for some reason his throat refused to work. He swallowed half a dozen times but still nothing came out.
‘Who is it, Mummy?’ Matthew asked in a small-toddler sibilant whisper.
Scarlett looked at Alessandro with a direct and somewhat challenging look. ‘This is your father, Matthew.’
Matthew wrinkled his brow and looked at her again. ‘He’s not dead, like Mrs West’s cat Tinkles?’
‘No, darling, he’s not dead. He’s very much alive.’
A silence measured the erratic pace of Alessandro’s heartbeat before the little boy whispered up against his mother’s ear, ‘Can he speak?’
Scarlett smiled in spite of the tension of the moment, and when she looked at Alessandro his mouth, too, had tilted a fraction.
‘Hello, Matthew,’ Alessandro said, not knowing whether to offer his hand or bend down and kiss the child.
What did one do these days with small children?
He didn’t know.
Over the years he’d actively avoided children of any age, knowing how much worse it made him feel about the decision he’d been forced to make.
‘Hello…’ the child said with a shy but totally engaging smile. ‘Do you like cars?’
Alessandro felt a sharp pain begin in his abdomen and travel right through to his backbone, like a savage drill. ‘Yes…yes, I love cars. I have several.’
The boy’s eyes lit up, and Alessandro couldn’t help noticing they were exactly the same colour as his, fringed with thick, sooty lashes.
‘I’ve got twenteen,’ Matthew announced proudly.
‘Twenteen?’ Alessandro glanced at Scarlett with a quizzical look on his face.
‘Twenty, darling,’ she said, addressing the child. ‘Remember how it goes after ten? Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen—’
‘Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty!’ Matthew crowed.
‘That is indeed a lot of cars,’ Alessandro said, still struggling to hold himself together.
‘Umm…perhaps you should come inside,’ Scarlett said when she noticed a neighbour she didn’t particularly like hovering in the stairwell.
‘Thank you,’