Chapter 65
Meg wiped raindrops from her face with the sleeve of her shirt as she followed Issy down a long hallway to a formal lounge room where Heather, Felix and the prickly woman from the building site sat on plump sofas.
‘You remember Meg?’ Issy said to her mother.
Instead of the immaculate socialite Meg had met at the gala, dark circles lay under Heather’s puffy eyes and her blonde hair sat up at a strange angle. Her face, bare of makeup, was sallow and lined.
‘This is my brother Felix’—Issy gestured to the man Meg had seen from a distance at the launch—‘and you know Cathy.’
‘Hello,’ Meg said.
Felix nodded, giving her a small smile. Heather glared back at her, the set of her jaw hard, then turned to Issy. ‘What’s she doing here?’
Issy swallowed, visibly nervous. ‘You need to tell us what happened, Mum.’
Heather looked from Issy to Meg, then out the arched window, where the world was distorted by raindrops on the glass.
Meg cleared her throat. ‘Thirty years ago, my mother worked here in this house. Then she left Hartwell abruptly. Left her family, her friends, her whole life. Not long after that, she had a baby. Me. You need to tell me what happened.’
Heather was unmoved.
‘Heather?’ Meg said. ‘DNA results show I’m related to this family.’
Heather shook her head, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement.
‘You can’t just ignore me!’ Meg’s voice was sharper now, louder.
There was a long silence, then Cathy leaned forward. ‘If you don’t tell them, I will,’ she said to Heather, her voice low and firm.
Heather turned to her, frowning. ‘What?’
Cathy exhaled sharply. Almost a laugh, but not quite. ‘I was there, remember?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Heather,’ Cathy said. It was a warning of sorts, like a school principal encouraging a confession from a guilty student. ‘You knew who she was the moment you saw her—’ a quick glance at Meg, before pinning Heather down again, ‘—just like I did. We would recognise those eyes anywhere.’
Heather held her stare, then sighed heavily and looked at the plush carpet, biting the inside of her cheek as she found the words.
‘I had … I’d had a very difficult pregnancy, even worse than when I was pregnant with Felix.
I swore I’d never have another child, but—’ She turned her hand up.
‘They called it morning sickness, but it was relentless. Morning, noon and night. I was hospitalised twice with dehydration from the vomiting. When the baby came, I was very … It was like I blamed the baby for making me so sick. I couldn’t forgive her. ’
Issy shook her head. ‘I was a baby!’
Heather clicked her tongue. ‘I know it makes no sense, Isobel. You said you wanted to know the truth, so I’m telling you.
’ She exhaled loudly, then went on. ‘I had Rosa during the day, but at night I was on my own. The baby would cry and cry and I just couldn’t get myself up, so after the first few weeks, Malcolm hired a local girl. Anna. Do you remember her, Felix?’
He nodded.
‘She was studying nursing. She would stay overnight and get up with the baby to do the night feeds.’
Heather paused for a long time. Cathy cleared her throat, a reminder that Heather had no choice but to go on. She took a deep breath.
‘Something happened between Anna and Spencer when he came home during his school holidays.’
‘Spencer?’ Meg whispered, thoughts reeling.
‘I found him … in her room. He was … It was …’
‘Rape?’ Issy said, when it was clear Heather wasn’t going to say anything more.
The word felt like a punch, violent and visceral. Meg took a deep breath.
Heather grimaced, looked up at the ceiling rose. ‘It was … I don’t know.’ A beat. ‘That word seems a little … extreme.’
‘If he had sex with her and it wasn’t consensual, it was rape,’ Issy said.
‘It wasn’t aggressive, though,’ Heather spoke quietly. ‘She wasn’t saying no or fighting him off. She was just lying there.’
Meg looked at Felix, sitting opposite. He looked back at her, sadness and regret in his eyes, then he turned to his mother.
‘What happened next?’
‘A couple of months later, Anna told me she was pregnant. I thought it would be best for everyone concerned if she terminated the pregnancy. I paid her for her trouble—’ her eyes flashed, ‘—but it seems she took the money and disappeared, without upholding her end of the deal.’
Meg bristled. Was Heather really insinuating that her mother was in the wrong? She thought of arguing Anna’s case, but what was the point?
‘I don’t know how you can live with yourself,’ she said, instead.
Heather scoffed, incredulous.
Meg got up to go. She’d heard enough. She might have inherited DNA from these people, but she wanted nothing else from them. And nothing else to do with them.
As she stood by her car, fumbling in her bag for her keys, there was a voice.
‘Meg! Wait!’
She looked up to see Felix jogging down the stairs and closed her eyes, summoning the energy for another conversation. She wasn’t sure she could handle any more today.
‘I …’ He hesitated, rubbing his chin. ‘I just …’
‘Yes?’ she said, frowning.
‘I know what you must think of us. I just want you to know that we’re not all like that.’
‘I know, it’s fine, it’s just … a lot.’
Felix nodded. ‘Your mum was really nice to me. When I came back from school for the holidays, she’d let me watch Friends with her on the little TV in her room.’ A pause. ‘I’m really sorry about what happened to her, Meg. What Spencer did. And Mum.’
Meg felt tears threaten.
‘She didn’t deserve that,’ he said.
As Meg drove up the freeway towards Sydney, she replayed the conversation with Heather, trying to work out how to feel.
At long last, she had an answer. She knew the truth.
She was the product of a sexual assault.
An act of violence, regardless of what Heather said.
Spencer Ashworth was her father. A man who had gone through the world taking whatever he wanted.
An entitled, selfish, pathetic man who was currently sitting in a prison cell.
But he was nothing to her. Meg had inherited his DNA and nothing else.
Every single thing about her that mattered, she had inherited from her mum.
She felt a pang of deep love. All these years, Meg had been so angry with her—about the isolation, the constant moving, the drinking, the emotional detachment—so resentful for what she lacked.
Meg had considered her selfish and weak, but now she knew otherwise.
Jenny was fierce, determined and loyal, sacrificing everything for her unborn child.
She’d fought back against a wealthy, powerful family and made an impossible choice.
And she’d done it all for Meg.