Least Said (47 page)

Unfortunately,
by
the
time
Jon
had
received
a
lecture
from
Tina,
on
both
his
unreasonable
behaviour
over
our
fertility
problems
and
the
incriminating
message,
and
rushed
to
me
to
apologise
and
to
reassure
me,
it
was
far,
far
too
late
for
me
to
turn
the
clock
back.

Long
into
the
night
I
lay
wide
awake
going
over
that
terrible
time
of
indecision
while
Jon
slept
peacefully
beside
me.
Actually
having
the
affair
I
felt
I
could
have
lived
with
–
even
confessed
to
it
and
begged
for
forgiveness
–
but
finding
out
I
was
pregnant
had
changed
absolutely
everything.

I
recognised
that
I
was
going
over
old
ground
as
I
lay
there.
Once
again
I
was
making
a
huge
effort
to
reassure
myself
that
it
was
perfectly
possible
the
child
–
our
lovely
son,
William
–
was
Jon’s,
because
we
had
been
making
love
regularly
both
before
and
after
my
night
of
shame.
Yes,
it
was
possible,
but
was
it
really
probable?
In
my
heart
I
knew
the
chances
of
Jon
having
fathered
that
child
were
minimal
and
all
I
was
doing
was
trying
to
fool
myself.
The
evidence
stacked
against
it
was
too
strong.

The
fact
was
we
had
been
trying
to
conceive
for
several
years
up
to
that
point,
without
any
sign
of
success,
and
added
to
that
we
had
also
received
the
damning
verdict
regarding
Jon’s
possible
infertility.

Put
a
husband
with
a
low
sperm
count
versus
a
fit,
sporty
guy
who
had
already
fathered
four
kids
and
anyone
would
have
to
admit
that
Jon’s
chances
of
claiming
paternity
didn’t
look
at
all
favourable.
To
make
matters
worse,
it
was
beginning
to
appear
increasing
unlikely
that
my
recent
desperate
attempts
to
get
pregnant
to
prove
that
Jon
was
actually
capable
of
fathering
a
child
were
doomed
to
failure.

If
I
could
turn
the
clock
back
seven
years
there
were
things
I
would
have
done
differently.
Not
having
the
affair
in
the
first
place
goes
without
saying,
but
even
after
that
I’d
had
choices.
Yes,
I
had
listened
to
Tina’s
advice
but,
ultimately,
any
decision
I’d
made
back
then
had
been
entirely
mine.

I
could
have
had
an
abortion
–
no
one
would
have
needed
to know,
except
possibly
Tina
who
I
would
trust
with
my
life.
In
all
honesty,
though,
this
was
never
an
option.
I
had
discovered
I
was
pregnant
for
the
first
–
and
possibly
the
last
–
time
in
my
life
and
there
had
been
no
way
in
the
world
I
wasn’t
going
to
go
through
with
that
pregnancy.
No
matter
how
the
child
was
conceived,
it
was
my
child
and
I
was
going
to
be
a
mother
come
hell
or
high
water.

Once
that
decision
was
made
I
was
faced
with
other
choices
and,
not
knowing
who
the
father
was
made
those
choices
almost
impossible.
I
supposed
I
could
have
gone
to
both
men
and
had
the
following
conversation:

‘Jon/Gareth,’ (insert
name
as
appropriate,
although
I
hadn’t
even
actually
known
the
Adonis’
name
at
that
point,
or
even
where
he
lived)
‘I
have
discovered
that
I
am
pregnant
and
you
may
be
the
father
–
what
would
you
like
me
to
do
about
it?’

I
was
absolutely
cringing
at
the
thought
of
such
a
conversation,
even
one
that
was
entirely
imaginary,
so
what
on
earth
would
the
real
thing
have
been
like?
And
what
would
the
result
have
been?
Well,
there
were
various
scenarios.

Two
men
who
both
wanted
to
be
involved,
two
men
who
wanted
nothing
to
do
with
the
child
or
me,
two
men
who
wanted
custody
if
it
was
proved
that
they
were
the
father
–
because
I
was
an
unfit
mother,
obviously
–
and
any
and
many
variations
on
that
theme.

What
I
had
done
was
go
for
the
option
that
was
best
for
the
child
–
and
for
me,
too,
if
I
was
being
totally
honest.
I
had
simply
done
nothing,
said
nothing
and
allowed
Jon
to
think
the
child
was
his.
He
had
never
doubted
it
–
why
would
he
when
he
would
never
ever
dream
that
I
would
stoop
so
low
as
to
have
an
affair
in
the
first
place,
or
to
pass
a
child
that
may
have
been
the
result
of
the
affair
off
as
his
in
the
second?