She shuddered at the memory of that sudden realisation that her whole life had been a lie.
‘She’d been waiting until I was old enough to understand.’
It had been the most significant moment of Amy’s life. It would have been easy to feel as if her whole world had caved in, but Danny and Neil had simply shrugged it off and continued to treat her as they always had—as their sister. That, more than anything, had made it easier to cope with.
‘Did you not have any idea you weren’t hers?’
‘Not in the slightest. She loved me. Any resentment was hidden.’
‘What about your father? Where does he fit in with all this?’
‘He left it to my mum to tell me. When it came out he carried on as normal, trying to pretend nothing had changed.’
But of course everything had changed. She’d changed. How could she not? Everything she’d thought she knew about herself had been a lie.
She looked back at Helios, wanting him to understand. ‘When I was told the truth it became important, I guess, to pretend that nothing had changed. They still treated me the same. They still scolded me when I was naughty. My mum still tucked me up in bed and kissed me goodnight. Outwardly, nothing did change.’
‘And how does she feel about you being here now, trying to find your birth mother?’
‘She understands. She’s adopted herself—I think that’s why she was able to raise me without blaming me for the sins of my birth mother. She knows what the urge to find out who you really are is like.’
Her mum had encouraged Amy’s quest to learn all there was to know about Agon. She’d been the one to take her to the library to seek out books on Agon and Minoan culture and to record any television documentary that featured the island. So encouraging had she been that a part of Amy had been scared her mum wanted her to go to Agon and stay there. She’d been afraid that she wanted to get rid of the living proof of her husband’s infidelity, that all the love she had bestowed on Amy had only been an act.
But Amy couldn’t deny that she’d seen the apprehension in her mum’s eyes when she’d left for Agon. Since she’d been on the island she’d received more daily calls and messages than she had when she’d first left home for university. Was she secretly worried that Amy would abandon her for Neysa...?
Secretly worried or not, wanting to get rid of her or not, being adopted herself meant her mum had first-hand experience of knowing what it was like to feel a part of you was missing. Helios had always known exactly who he was. There hadn’t been a single day of his life when he hadn’t known his place in the world or his destiny.
‘She sounds like a good woman.’
‘She is. She’s lovely.’ And she was. Loving and selfless. Amy knew her fears were irrational, but she had no control over them. They were still there, taunting her, in the deepest recesses of her mind.
‘So why do you want to meet your birth mother?’ Helios asked, puzzled that Amy could want anything to do with someone who’d caused such pain and destruction. ‘She abandoned you and destroyed your mum’s trust.’
She looked away. ‘I don’t want a relationship with her. I just... I want to know what she looks like. Do I look like her? Because the only thing I’ve inherited from my dad is his nose. And I want to know why she did what she did.’
‘Even if the truth hurts you?’ If her birth mother was anything like her layabout son, he would guess she’d abandoned Amy for purely selfish reasons.
‘I’ve been hurt every day of my life since I learned the truth of my conception,’ she said softly. ‘I know there are risks to meeting her, but I can’t spend the rest of my life wondering.’
‘Has your father not been able to fill in any of the gaps for you?’
‘Not really. He doesn’t like to talk about her—he’s still ashamed of his behaviour. He’s a scientist, happily stuck in a laboratory all day, and what he did was completely out of character.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘Even if he did want to talk about it there’s not much for him to say. He hardly knew her. She was hired on a recommendation from one of Dad’s colleagues who left his research company before I was dumped on him. All he and my mum knew was that Neysa—my birth mother—was from Agon and had come to England for a year to improve her English.’
And so the Greens had allowed a stranger into their home, with no foreknowledge of the havoc that would be wreaked on them.
‘Everything else I’ve learned since I came here,’ she added wistfully. ‘Greta has helped me.’
But she hadn’t confided in him or approached him for help.
Helios tried to imagine the pain and angst she’d been living with during all the nights they’d shared together. She hadn’t breathed a word of it, although she must have known he was in the best position to help her.
‘How’s your parents’ marriage now?’
Amy shrugged. ‘When it all happened I was still a newborn baby. They patched their marriage up as best they could for the sake of us kids. They seem happy. I don’t think my dad ever cheated again, but who knows?’
‘My mother was a good woman too,’ he said.
He was realising that Amy was right in her assertion that they had both kept things hidden. Both of them had kept parts of their lives locked away. And now it was time to unlock them.
‘And my father was also a philanderer. But, unlike your father, mine never showed any penitence. The opposite, in fact.’
Her taupe eyes widened a touch but she didn’t answer, just waited for him to continue in his own time.
‘My father was hugely unfaithful—to be honest, he was a complete bastard. And my mother was incredibly jealous. To shut her up when she questioned him about his infidelities he would hit her. She deserved better than him.’
This was not a subject he’d ever discussed with anyone outside of his family. His father’s infidelities were well documented, but his violence...that was something they’d all closed ranks on. Being the sons of such a vicious, narcissistic man was not something any of the brothers had found it easy to reconcile themselves with.
‘I’m sorry,’ Amy said, shaking her head slowly as if trying to take in his words. ‘Did you know it was going on? The violence, I mean?’
‘Only on an instinctual level. It was only ever a feeling.’
‘How was your relationship with your father?’ she asked quietly.
He grimaced as decades-old memories flooded him. ‘I was the apple of his eye. He adored me, to the point that he excluded my brothers. It felt good, being the “special” one, but I also felt much guilt about it too. He was cruel—especially to Theseus. My mother struggled to make him treat us all fairly.’
Amy didn’t say anything, just stared at him with haunted eyes.
‘I was a child when they died. My memories are tainted by everything I learned after he’d gone, but I remember the looks he would give my mother when she stood up for Theseus or made a pointed remark about his other women. I would feel sick with worry for her, but he was always careful to make sure I was out of sight and earshot before hitting her. It got worse once I left for boarding school,’ he continued. ‘With me gone, he didn’t have to hide it any more.’
‘You surely don’t blame yourself for that?’
‘Not any more. But I did when I first learned the truth.’ He met her gaze. ‘It took me a long time to truly believe I couldn’t have stopped him even if I had known. But, like you when your life fell apart, I was a child. Talos tried to stop it—that last day, before my parents were driven to the Greek Embassy and their car crashed, Talos was there, right in the middle of it. He got hurt himself in the crossfire.’
‘Oh, the poor boy. That must have been horrendous for him.’
‘It screwed up his ideas of marriage. He has no intention of ever marrying.’
‘Not an option for you,’ she said softly.
‘No.’ He shook his head for emphasis. ‘Nor for Theseus. The security of our family and our island rests in our hands. But I swear this now—my parents’ marriage will not be mine.’
‘What if it was an option?’ she asked suddenly, straightening. ‘What if you’d been born an ordinary person? Who would you be now?’
‘I don’t know.’ And he didn’t. ‘It’s not something I’ve ever thought about.’
‘Really?’
‘Theseus spent most of his life fighting his birthright and all it brought him was misery. Why rail against something you have no control over? I had no control over my conception, just as I had no control over my parents’ marriage or their deaths. My destiny is what it is, and I’ve always known and accepted that. I am who I am and I’m comfortable with that.’
It was only in recent weeks that the destiny he’d always taken for granted had gained a more acrid tang.
During their conversation Amy had moved fully back onto the bed and was now facing him, hugging her knees. Reaching forward, he took her left foot into his hands and gently tugged at it so it rested on his lap.
A strange cathartic sensation blew through him, and with it a sense of release. His father’s violence and complete disrespect to his mother were things that he’d locked away inside, not wanting to give voice to the despicable actions he and his brothers felt tainted by. But Amy was the last person who would judge a child for the sins of its parents. In that respect they shared something no other could understand.