I stand and take a few steps away from her. ‘But I’m not a bloodline, am I?’
She laughs suddenly. The sound is sarcastic and taunting. ‘You’re a fool, Blake. I never imagined you would be so blind. Can’t you guess that your bloodline is by far purer than the Barrington bloodline?’
I stare at her with surprise. My chest feels as if it is on fire. ‘Who is my real father?’
‘Do you really need me to spell it out for you?’ She seems genuinely surprised that I don’t know.
‘Yes, God damn it,’ I say harshly. ‘Spit it out.’
‘Your biological father is Hugo.’
‘Hugo?’
‘Yes, Hugo Montgomery.’
Hugo Montgomery! For a moment nothing makes sense. Time stops. The whole world outside my mother’s living apartment ceases to exist. We are splendidly isolated and perched high in the sky. I stare at her. She stares back with an expression remarkable only for its lack of emotion. Her eyes are indifferent blue stones. Then the antique clock on the mantelpiece above the seventeenth-century fireplace starts again.
‘What?’ I ask incredulously.
‘It’s not that startling, surely?’ she sighs.
‘But he’s Victoria’s father!’
‘Of course.’
‘Victoria is my sister?’
‘Half-sister.’
‘I was supposed to marry her?’
‘Which you didn’t do,’ she reminds in a silkily bored tone.
‘It would have been incest if I had,’ I counter angrily.
‘I never suspected you of being tedious.’
‘Why did the families want us to marry?’
‘For the bloodline. In your offspring would have run the purest blood of all.’
‘Does Victoria know?’
Her voice is very dry. ‘I believe she is still recovering from the shock of it even as we speak.’
‘Does Hugo know?’
She nods.
‘And… Father? Did he know?’
She looks at me disdainfully, and I marvel at her heartless, carefully expressionless mask. She is like one of those nimble mountain goats. Even on the most precipitous crags she never loses her nerve or her footing. She moves so casually yet so surely as she nibbles on tufts of grass among dangerously loose rocks.
‘We all did,’ she exclaims. ‘You didn’t imagine I had a sordid little affair with Hugo, did you? We planned it and we executed it for the good of the family.’
‘My God! You’re all mad.’
‘Madness is a subjective thing. At any rate, it would appear we failed, wouldn’t it?’
Twenty-Four
Lana Barrington
Julie comes to see me.
She hugs me. ‘I’m so sorry, Lana,’ she says.
But I am hollow-eyed. I don’t give a damn about people being sorry that my son has been taken from me. I want what I don’t have. I want information. I want to know what Vann has told her.
I offer her coffee and she accepts. We sit next to each other drinking coffee.
‘Blake will get him back,’ she tells me.
I put my cup down. ‘How do you know that?’ I ask.
She is not daunted by my question. ‘Because I understand what you do not.’
‘What? What do you understand?’ I demand, both my voice and manner more aggressive that I intended.
‘I know that Blake is special. Once when you were not there I saw him interact with someone that Vann said is very frighteningly powerful. He didn’t give an inch, and yet that frighteningly powerful man bowed to Blake. He has something they covet, Lana. They want or more likely need him. They will never let anything happen to him or Sorab.’
I look at Julie. ‘You know their agenda, don’t you?’
She nods unhappily.
‘Tell me what it is?’
She looks at me with pity in her eyes. ‘Oh, Lana. Blake does not tell you because it will grieve you.’
My fist connects with the table, so hard the coffee cups rattle. ‘Do you think anything you tell me will grieve me more than what I already feel?’
She looks me in the eye. She is brave. I’ll give her that. A lot braver than I gave her credit for. ‘There is always room for more grief.’
I crumple in shame. ‘Blake believes I am weaker than I am. I want to know.’
‘I hassled Vann for ages. I wanted to know. And in the end he told me and now I am not the same. I wish I had not asked. I wish I didn’t know.’
‘Why?’
She looks at me sadly. ‘Because there is not a single thing I can do about it.’
‘I’m not a child. I deserve to know.’
But Julie just shakes her head. ‘Trust Blake, Lana. He truly loves you. Everything he does is to protect you.’
I lean back in frustration. ‘OK, OK. Forget I asked. The truth is, I don’t care. I just want Sorab back.’
‘And you will,’ she says with total conviction. Conviction I wish I had.
By the time Billie arrives with a bottle of vodka, Julie is gone. She doesn’t say anything, simply finds two large water glasses and fills them up, spilling quite a bit. I can see that she is already more than half sloshed. She comes to the table where I am sitting and pushes a glass toward me. I shake my head.
‘Didn’t think you were afraid of a little vodka,’ she slurs.
Oh, what the hell! She’s right. Maybe this will help dull the pain. I take the glass and start drinking it like it is water. I can see Billie’s eyes widening.
Halfway down the glass, I have to stop. I feel sick. I put the glass down and look at Billie. ‘This is not going to help.’
‘You’re strung up tight like a bow. You need to loosen up.’
‘Loosen up? For what?’
‘It’s not your fault,’ she says.
‘What, no flip remark! You’re losing your touch, Billie.’
‘Um, yeah. Maybe.’ She looks sheepish.
I take a deep breath. The alcohol is already singing in my head. But I don’t feel any happier. In fact, I feel a bit sick. I put my head in my hands. ‘I don’t feel so good, Bill.’
‘Did you eat today?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Oh shit. Do you want something to eat now?’
‘No.’
‘Come on, I’ll put you to bed for a bit.’
In my bedroom I fall on the bed and lie on my side and groan.
‘Fuck, Billie, the room is spinning.’
‘It’s not really.’
I close my eyes and I feel Billie lie down beside me.