Reluctantly Home(77)

So this was it. They had arrived. Evelyn had known they would get to this point eventually. It was an obvious crater in the story she had told Pip so far. But the identity of Scarlet’s father was something she hadn’t revealed to anyone – not Brenda, not Julian, not even Ted, bless him, although it wasn’t for want of asking on his part. She hadn’t even confessed it to her diary, although there was a kind of code to some of her entries that might have given a clue if anyone had read them.

Her reasons for keeping her secret were manifold and had altered with the passing years. To start with, she had worried about getting herself into trouble, then getting Rory MacMillan into trouble, although for the life of her she couldn’t understand why she had ever thought that now. Then she had not wanted Joan to do anything rash. And finally she had worried that it would somehow be bad for Scarlet. And all this added up to not having ever told a living soul.

But what did she have to lose now?

‘He’s still alive,’ she began. ‘Or he is as far as I know, although I have no idea where in the world he might have settled himself. I haven’t seen him since the day Scarlet was conceived.’

It had always struck her as odd that Rory MacMillan had had a daughter and then lost her again, without ever being aware that such a thing was even a possibility. Her child probably hadn’t been the only one he had, in fact, given the way things worked back then. Scarlet had probably had half-siblings all over the place, although that was something Evelyn didn’t like to think too deeply about.

Evelyn had allowed MacMillan to cross her mind on and off over the years. She had wondered what had become of him, and if he ever thought about her, although she doubted that very much. For a while, she had tried to keep up with what was going on in the world of television, but then she had stopped punishing herself. It hurt too much to see other people having success when hers had been stolen from her. Then she had played an imaginary game in which she confronted MacMillan with Scarlet, showed him and the rest of the world what he had done. She had gleaned a dark satisfaction from the idea that she could use what she knew to undermine his world as easily as he had undermined hers. But in the end, she had abandoned the plan. It was all so very long ago. What was there to be gained from exposing him, and who would believe her anyway? Everybody knew the score in those days. Men had the power and women understood what had to be done in order to get what they wanted. She had just been one in a very long line.

‘Didn’t he know about Scarlet?’ asked Pip, cutting across her thoughts.

Evelyn shook her head. ‘I suppose he might have worked it out. I left his film set pregnant and he’d had sex with me some months beforehand. It’s hardly rocket science.’

‘Was he your boyfriend? You weren’t married, were you?’ Pip asked.

The young could be so prudish, Evelyn thought.

‘No and no, definitely not,’ she replied.

Pip seemed to hesitate before delving further, as if she were fearful of crossing a line. She really did look dreadful, Evelyn thought, although there was a little more colour in her cheeks after their walk along the prom.

Then Pip gave Evelyn a smirk and raised her eyebrows suggestively. ‘Was it a one-night stand?’ she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

‘More of a one-afternoon stand,’ replied Evelyn coolly.

‘Blimey!’ said Pip, her bloodshot eyes suddenly wide. ‘I would never have had you pegged as a “one-afternoon stand” kind of woman.’

Evelyn felt a little gratified at this, although she wasn’t sure what she was proud of – not being thought of as that kind of woman, or the sex itself.

‘I wasn’t,’ she said. ‘This was the one and only occasion on which such a thing happened. And this one shouldn’t have, either. But if it hadn’t, I would never have had my darling Scarlet, and I wouldn’t have been without her, no matter what I had to put up with.’

Pip’s smirk slipped. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. Her whole demeanour had altered. ‘Was it against your will?’ Her voice was so low that Evelyn could barely make out her words.

‘No, no,’ Evelyn replied. ‘It wasn’t rape. But I’m not sure I entirely agreed to it.’

‘Then that’s rape, surely?’

‘Oh, Pip,’ replied Evelyn with a sigh. ‘Things are rarely ever that straightforward.’

Pip sat up straighter in her chair. ‘Well, that is,’ she said sharply. ‘There is no doubt. You either consented or you didn’t. There are no half measures.’

Evelyn wasn’t at all sure she was right. ‘Well, I went into his room willingly. When he suggested we had sex, I was a little shocked. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting. I was more naive than anything, I suppose. I thought it was a business meeting, you see. I had no idea . . .’

Pip’s mouth fell open and creases appeared across her smooth brow. ‘What exactly happened, Evelyn?’ she asked, her tone suddenly very serious. She shifted forward in her chair, her spine straight and her eyes boring straight into Evelyn’s.

Evelyn felt a little as if she were being interviewed. Was this how Pip dealt with her clients? She shuffled a little and let her eyes fall to the Formica table between them. ‘It’s all such a long time ago,’ she said vaguely, but Pip was having none of it.

‘Come on, Evelyn. Are you seriously trying to tell me that you can’t remember?’