She swallows, feeling unwell all of a sudden. ‘Does Prue know?’
He shakes his head slowly. ‘It wasn’t my place to tell her.’
‘Did Father know?’
‘I doubt it. He left the domestic domain to Mother.’
Adelaide closes her eyes and tries to shut off all the thoughts racing around her head. The knowledge that Louis could have said something years ago and she wouldn’t have felt so alone.
There is also this: no one knew who the father of the baby was. She didn’t tell their mother, and now it’s the last lie she’s holding on to. The one that might make Louis hate her.
‘The father was Hector.’ There, now it’s out, except she feels even more unwell.
Louis blanches. ‘Hector? Daphne’s Hector?’
‘Yes.’ She inhales and exhales sharply. ‘However terribly you’re thinking of me now, believe me I have thought worse.’
‘It’s not for me to judge, Ade—’
‘Of course it’s for you to judge! You’ve known me my whole life! If you can’t judge me, who can?’
‘But I don’t want to,’ Louis says evenly.
‘You must!’ she almost shrieks. She feels herself starting to breathe raggedly, so she puts the tumbler on the table and braces herself on the wood.
‘You must.’ It’s softer but her breathing is still hard.
‘Why?’ Louis says, moving to her side. ‘Because you are tired of judging yourself?’
Adelaide wails then. Half a century of censuring herself has sharpened to a point that jabs her right in her solar plexus, bending her double.
Louis puts his arm around her and kisses her temple. ‘My sweet sister,’ he says. ‘Let it go.’
But she keeps wailing, and he holds her and holds her and holds her until she stops crying.
When he finally releases her she feels cleansed, if not clean.
‘I will never judge you,’ Louis says, and his eyes are damp.
Adelaide closes her eyes and feels the gravity of what he has said. The purity of it. He loves her so much that he will neverjudge her. Surely that is unconditional love? And it was here the whole time.
‘Thank you,’ she says weakly. There is nothing else she can say.
‘Please stay for dinner. Prue will be home soon.’
Adelaide nods slowly. She has nowhere else to be – and nowhere else better to go.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
‘So,’ Duncan says, laying his serviette across his lap and grinning at Christina.
‘So,’ she responds, half-smiling back.
Despite looking forward to having dinner with Duncan, she’s now wondering if she’s made a mistake. She’s not really in a position to start seeing anyone romantically. Her life is still in flux.
Even if she stays in Sydney, she won’t be able to live with her mother forever, as much as Joni would like that. Her money will run out eventually and the theatrical life – in some form – is calling her. She’s considering trying to get an Australian agent who could find her some roles in plays – which would put her back in her old lifestyle, which is likely incompatible with having a relationship with a man who isn’t also in the business.
Christina’s never met a man who works a ‘normal’ job who has wanted to date her more than a couple of times. They’d usually say they needed her to be ‘more available’, which she took to mean that they wanted her to cook and clean for them. The idea of having an actress as a trophy obviously appealed, but not the practical side of it, which was that the actress had to go and act.