‘He expected a lot of you because he knew you were capable of it.’
‘I was taught not to cry, not to get angry, not to care about anything other than his damned business. I was taught not to feel anything.’
‘But now you feel everything and you have no idea what to do with that. You think you’re the only one he screwed up? Jesus, he had no time for any of us. You’re lucky you got any attention from him at all.’
‘Lucky?’ The word is wrenched from me.
‘Fine.’ Theo holds his hands up appeasingly. ‘Not lucky, but we can’t rewrite the past. We can’t wake Dad up from the dead and ask him what the hell he was thinking. You’ve hired an investigator and maybe one day he’ll have the answers you need but you can’t keep freezing us out until then, man.’
‘What do you want from me?’ The words emerge deadpan. Calm. But the kind of calm that’s like the eye of a storm. I can feel it raging inside of me, I can feel how close it is to bursting.
‘You have to get a grip on your emotions, Holden. Don’t let your feelings control you, block them out. Think only with your head, not your heart.’
My head though is the problem. I work in facts and logic and I can’t make sense of any of this. I lock my gaze to Theo’s, wondering if he has a sense for how overwhelmed I am by this.
‘I wish you’d just leave me the fuck alone. Just let it go. Let me go.’
He stares at me for several seconds then shakes his head. ‘You’re such an ass. I’ll pick you up in the morning. Be ready and be sober.’
* * *
My temper explodes. Not immediately. No, immediately I concentrate on getting drunk. I’m halfway through a bottle of Scotch before my anger rises, unstoppable, a force that is unending, unconquerable.
I’m a child again, being left on the doorstep of Ryan Hart, my life changed for ever with the realisation that my mother doesn’t want me. That I’m too much for her, that I interrupt her lifestyle with my needing food and conversation, my endless barrage of questions.
I’m a child again, breaking up a marriage, breaking up a family. I’m a child, and then a Hart, raised alongside Jagger, then Theo.
I’m twenty-nine, sitting opposite Barrett—not just a close family friend but also a lawyer who handles our family business. He’s frowning, and suddenly saying words that make little sense.
‘There seems to be some dispute as to your parentage.’
There was no dispute in the end. Only a lie. A lie that my father perpetuated until the day he died. Why? Why in the world would the most selfish bastard on the planet take in a kid that wasn’t his? Raise that child. Lie to me.
I am left with a thousand questions and no answers, no answers within reach. Even the investigator I engaged when this first happened can’t help. Month after month he sends me a small statement. ‘Still digging. Nil so far.’
Who’s my biological father? Why did Ryan take me in? Why didn’t he tell me the truth?
Did my real father know about me? Or did my mother lie to him? Did she lie to Ryan? God, the not knowing is the hardest thing of all.
I think of Cora out of nowhere, of the way she dismissed her own mother so easily. ‘Being a parent is about more than biology.’ Is she right? Should I only care about the fact Ryan raised me? Should I ignore the fact he also lied to me? That the only chance to know any damned thing about my parentage died with him.
I can’t.
I’m glad, for Cora’s sake, that she can make her peace so easily with a mother who didn’t want her. I’m glad she’s not being eaten alive by it. I wish I could be more like her, in more ways than one.
Hours later, when I collapse into bed, I see my phone on charge. There’s a message from her.
I’m halfway to drunk. I can barely read it. But I lift it up anyway, staring at the screen until the letters make sense.
Goodnight. x
On the one hand, the smart thing to do would be to ignore her. Goodnight text messages with smiley faces and little kiss marks are sweet and kind and I don’t want that.
But I do want Cora. I need her.
I lift the phone closer and open a reply.
What are you up to?