“No, I’m not a virgin,” I ground out. “Not anymore but I was until...”
Shit!
“Until you had sex?” she said derisively.
My mother was crying in earnest now, fingering her rosary and wailing about God’s judgment. I was a selfish liar, evil and perverse, heading on a fast train to hell and wanting to drag my family with me. The usual.
“Get up,” Caroline ordered.
I did as I was told without any back chat. Caroline walked a circle around me, surrounding me in a cage as surely as if she’d magicked up the bars and drilled them into the linoleum. Lips pursed, she came closer. Her rose-scented perfume made my stomach roil.
“How far gone are you?”
She made it sound like I had a terminal illness. My mother stopped crying, as if my answer would somehow make me less pregnant.
“Just over three months, I think,” I said.
“Too far gone for an abortion,” she murmured too softly for anybody else to hear but me.
My mouth fell open. Caroline says abortion is murder. In her view, it’s only acceptable if the baby is “damaged,” like a defective laptop or a wonky chair. Then it’s not abortion anymore; it’s mercy and God will understand. I guess abortion was also mercy when it prevented her new social standing from being tarnished.
“Who knocked you up?” Caroline said.
For an insane moment James’s face popped into my head. I shook the image away with an effort. I had to focus, stick to my plan no matter how bad it now seemed. If I told my parents the truth they would harass Alex and his family, and I didn’t want that.
My father would insist on marriage and when that didn’t happen he’d get violent, and not just with me. Don’t get me wrong—it’s not that I gave a toss about Alex, but going after him wouldn’t do me any good. The hate campaign would get worse and in the end nothing would be resolved.
When it came down to it, fantasising about happy endings while I made sketchy plans for the future didn’t compare to the harsh reality of telling my parents that I was pregnant. I had to buy myself some time to figure out what to do next.
“Well?” my father demanded. “Who is the father?”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”
Three pairs of eyes widened, mouths opened and jaws dropped. Only saying that Father Martin was my lover would have trumped my declaration.
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “How can you not know who the father is?”
“I didn’t look at their faces,” I blurted.
My mother’s voice climbed to a scream. “You didn’t look at their faces?”
Oh crap. I should have expressed myself better but between “I screwed a lot of guys” and “It could’ve been anybody,” I opted for what I thought would do less damage. It proved too much for my mother. She ran to the Virgin Mary altar and started praying, which I thought was pretty ironic.#p#分页标题#e#
My father spoke so quietly I hardly heard him. “Get out of my sight or you won’t live to regret telling me that you’re a whore.”
Caroline’s cajoling tones followed me all the way to my room. She said she wanted me at her wedding so tongues wouldn’t wag but I knew better. Having me witness her happiness while my life was in shambles would make her day much more enjoyable.
I lay on my bed conjuring up memories of sex with James to get me through the shakes, but it didn’t work. I was lying under a blanket of fear. Fear for my future and that of the tiny life current inside me.
No crying, my mind warned. Not yet.
Not until my visitor had left. My head fell forward and I shut my eyes, sighing deeply as I heard her footsteps grow closer. Caroline opened my bedroom door and stepped in. Her voice lost its habitual sweetness, leaving just the bitch part.
“You’re more stupid than I thought.”
There are times in life when it takes all your willpower just to shrug.
Caroline smiled slowly, relishing my despair. “You’re going to get everything you deserve—that’s what happens to vulgar little whores who kiss my fiancé.”
Every triumphant gloat she’d ever enjoyed at my expense came flooding back to me.
Every lie.
“Why did you do it?” I asked quietly.
She knew exactly what I was talking about. “Your dirty secret would’ve been exposed sooner or later.”
“Why have you always hated me?” I asked angrily. “What the fuck did I ever do to you?”
She turned her back. “I bought a dress for you. Something Mum approved of. It’s on a hanger behind my door. Wear it with the black ballerina flats in my wardrobe.”