Page 43 of Things We Never Said
‘Difficult,’ Maggie repeats. ‘Hmm.’ Her neutral tone expresses that it’s entirely up to Sean how much more he wants to tell her, and he’s grateful for her discretion.
‘Look,’ Sean says, scratching one ear. ‘Can I ... If I tell you something ... something from the tapes ... can I be sure that it will stay between us?’
‘Of course!’ Maggie says. ‘You know that.’
‘It’s about April,’ Sean says, after a pause. ‘Apparently she might not be mine.’
Maggie puts her cup down now and frowns deeply at Sean. ‘Really?’ she says.
‘Catherine got pregnant pretty quickly when I met her. Well, immediately, really. And April could have been mine. Or she might have been from Catherine’s ex, a guy called Phil.’
‘This was in one of the letters?’ Maggie asks, shaking her head. ‘I mean, on one of the tapes?’
Sean nods. ‘It was.’
‘And you didn’t know before? God, that’s awful.’
Sean shrugs. ‘I wouldn’t say that it has never crossed my mind. But I certainly never dwelled on it to any degree.’
‘Wow, Sean,’ Maggie says, reaching out and touching his elbow. ‘That must have been a real shock. You haven’t told April, have you?’
Sean shakes his head. ‘Itwasa shock, in a way. And in another way, it wasn’t.’
‘Why would she say that?’ Maggie asks. ‘I mean, why do that to you?’
‘I don’t know. I think she just wanted to come clean about everything.’
Maggie pulls a face. ‘Come clean?’ she says doubtfully.
Sean frowns. ‘You don’t think?’
‘It’s not ... it’s just that ... well, it’s not true, is it?’ Maggie splutters.
‘What’s not true?’
Maggie half laughs, half gasps. ‘Well, none of it. April’s the spitting image of you, isn’t she? If she looked any more like you, Sean, she’d be you. She’s got your eyes, your nose, your everything.’
‘D’you think?’ Sean asks, managing to sound both doubtful and hopeful at the same time.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ Maggie says. ‘Anyone can see that.’
Snapshot #13
35mm format, colour. A thin young man in a blue suit, white shirt and blue striped tie stands before an ornate, covered, neo-Gothic bridge. It’s a sunny summer day, and beneath the bridge a number of punts can be seen on the river.
Sean frowns at this image of his younger self. It makes him feel embarrassed.
The suit, brand new from Marks & Spencer, had fitted well enough. But the shirt, which he had borrowed from Alistair, had been too big for him, and his tie, he now sees, had been badly knotted – lopsided and really rather huge.It’s a wonder I got the job at all, he thinks.
He had been incredibly nervous, for it was the first job interview he had ever had.
Neither he nor Catherine had ever been to Cambridge before, and, terrified of being late, they had arrived by train a full three hours early. As it was a beautiful day, they had wandered around the town centre and then through the colleges while they waited. They had both been stunned by the prosperity of the town and the easy elegance of the people who lived there.
Finally, Sean had installed Catherine in the window seat of a French-style café, The Dome, and gone to his interview with Nicholson-Wallace Architects Ltd.
‘You’ll be great,’ Catherine had said, straightening his tie. ‘You’ll knock ’em dead.’
Cassette #13
