Page 14 of Storm in a D Cup

‘Slut?’ Judy cried in disbelief. ‘At least I didn’t abandon my baby!’

And then my head shot up again to stare at Judy, then at Marcy. I thought that was a secret Marcy had revealed only to me, in a sign of truce years ago. ‘You knew?’ I asked my sister.

‘Of course I knew. You thought you were the only bearer of her secrets? She can’t keep a secret any more than she can hold her booze.’

‘Abandon?’ Vince whispered, wide-eyed and sitting back down and even Sandra seemed to have forgotten her own little drama. ‘What’s she talking about, Ma?’

‘About the fact that your angelic and celestial mother had a baby before she married Dad. In England,’ Judy sneered. ‘She left him on the steps of a church, for Christ’s sake! Anyone beat that if you can!’

Julian’s head snapped up and he stared at Marcy. Really hard. It must have hit home because that was what had happened to him too before Maggie and Tom adopted him. I squeezed his hand, my eyes swinging to poor old Dad who sat pale and still. Shit. Everyone seemed to know but him.

‘Dad?’ I whispered. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Edoardo?’ Zia Martina asked, placing her hand on his, which Marcy readily slapped away.

He didn’t flinch but stared ahead for a long time as if he hadn’t heard or felt any of it. Or as if he had a gazillion times. I held my breath, waiting for him to say something, and everyone at the table froze.

‘Dad?’ I nudged him gently, my heart skipping a beat.

‘Edoardo?’ Julian echoed me.

Dad turned to us with a sweet, sweet smile. ‘Yes? I’m fine, thanks. Marcy, I think you have quite a few apologies to make before you leave this table. Julian, please pour me another glass of that fantastic wine you and my lovely daughter make. Would you mind?’

Julian stared at him at length, then nodded.

I took advantage of that beat and left the table for barely thirty seconds, almost missing the grand finale. I wish I had.

‘She’s so bloody obese!’

‘Marcy,’ I heard Julian say. ‘With all due respect I think you’ve had too much to drink. Now why don’t you go upstairs and lie down for a while?’

‘I don’t want to lie down,’ she snarled.

‘Of course she doesn’t,’ Judy snapped. ‘She’s been horizontal all her life. And not always alone.’

Marcy crossed her arms and glared at her. ‘Look who’s talking, Mother Teresa of Calcutta.’

I packed the dessert trolley with my home-madetiramisù, blueberry cheesecake and Siciliancannoli, Tuscancantucciniandcastagnaccio, along with a fresh pot of espresso coffee and some Vin Santo, a sweet dessert wine, hoping that all this sweetness would counteract all the bitterness at the table. It usually worked for me.

‘Yeah, well at least I had the decency to sleep with guys my age,’ I heard Judy say.

‘What?’ I said as I returned with the dessert tray. I could feel my ears getting hot, and I can tell you the situation was getting way out of hand even for someone as confrontational as me.

Had Marcy had an affair while she was married to my dad as well? And with a younger man?

‘Oh, you don’t know about her toy boy?’ Judy said.

‘Toy boy?’ I squeaked.

‘Yeah,’ Judy said. ‘A kid from your school, too.’

I froze, my voice struggling out of my mouth. ‘Who?’

‘That cute Italian dropout, remember the one who used to take the older girls behind the supermarket? What was his name? Tony – Tony Esposito.’

Not just the older girls. He’d taken me, too, but no one needed to know that. Because it had been an absolute disaster of an attempt at being like everybody else. The minute he’d put his hand up my shirt, I’d pushed him away and run all the way down the alley, my heart beating like it would crush my ribs.

I turned to Marcy, barely breathing. ‘You slept with akid?’

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