But for me, somehow this pregnancy seems right. I never imagined it but now it’s happened it’s wondrous. It seems amazing that something like this could come from...from what we had. So the more I thought about it, the more I decided I needed to tell you, face to face, in case for you this baby might help...’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘I mean this baby is bringing me joy, Ben,’ she said gently. ‘I know there’ll be problems. I know it’ll be tough, but the moment I realised I was pregnant all I felt was happiness. That something so wonderful could come from such a...’
‘Chance coupling?’ He said it harshly, cruelly even. She should flinch. Maybe she did, inside, but if she did she hid it well.
‘It might have been a chance coupling for you,’ she said, the chin tilting again, ‘but for me it was like a dividing line. Before and after. I know that doesn’t make sense to you but for me it’s huge. I went to the island feeling defeated. I came home thinking I could cope with anything the world threw at me. I have the strength and happiness to raise this baby alone. Ben, you have no need to do anything. If you like, I won’t even put your name on my baby’s birth certificate. But I thought...I just had to tell you.’
He didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say.
‘I’ll go now,’ she said gently. ‘Ben, there’ll be no repercussions. For you it was a chance coupling, but for me it was magic. I believe our baby was conceived in love, and I’ll remember that forever. Thank you, Ben. Thank you for my baby. Thank you for everything.’
And she turned and walked out the door.
* * *
She’d sounded sure, but her certainty faded the moment she closed the door behind her. Why had she come?
Back in New Zealand it had seemed like the only honourable thing to do. She’d meet him face to face. She’d explain that he was going to be a father.
Okay, a tiny part of her had been hoping for joy, but that was a tiny part. A dumb part.
Mostly she’d thought the conversation would be brief and businesslike, with her assuring him she didn’t expect support. He needed to know he had a child but she didn’t want more help.
What she hadn’t expected was horror.
Maybe he had assumed she was here for a share in the Logan billions, but she didn’t think so. The look on Ben’s face had said this wasn’t about money.
Why wouldn’t the elevator come? She shoved the button again and thought maybe she’d hit the fire stairs.
She was a long way up.
She wanted to go home. Fiercely, she wanted to be home.
She never wanted to see that look on Ben’s face again. She never wanted her child to see it.
‘Mary...’
He was right behind her.
She jabbed the button again.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, but she didn’t turn around.
‘You don’t need to be sorry. I’ve said what I came to say. As far as you’re concerned, this is over.’
‘When did you arrive?’
‘Yesterday.’ Jab, jab.
‘And when are you going home?’
‘Monday.’ Jab, jab, jab.
He leaned forward and covered her hand with his, stopping her touching the buttons. His touch seemed to burn.
What was wrong with the stupid elevator? ‘You own this building,’ she snapped. ‘Put in more lifts.’
‘Let me take you to lunch.’
‘No.’
‘That’s not very gracious.’
‘No!’
‘Mary—’
‘I’ve said what I came to say. Let me go.’
‘Can I tell you why I reacted...as I did?’
And finally the elevator arrived. All she needed to do was step inside and head for the ground floor. Then catch a cab, collect her gear, head to the airport and go home.
‘There’s a reason,’ he said.
The elevator door closed again and it slid silently away. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so she was facing him.
‘Tell me.’ She felt weary beyond belief. Jet-lag? Early pregnancy? She’d been feeling the effects of both these things but the look on Ben’s face had made them ten times worse.
‘I can’t...’ he said.
‘Tell me,’ she repeated, and she thought tears weren’t far off. But why should she cry now? She’d had this sorted, or she’d thought she had.
Until she’d seen the fear.
‘I don’t do families,’ he said.
This was a dumb place to have such a conversation, she thought inconsequentially. Outside the elevators. Public.
And then she glanced over Ben’s shoulder and realised the palatial reception area was designed for one secretary and Elsbeth was nowhere to be seen. This whole floor was Ben’s.
This was Ben’s world and she had no place here. But...was this his refuge as Hideaway Island had been hers?
A storm had destroyed her refuge. Was she threatening his?
She wasn’t. He didn’t do families? She wasn’t asking that of him.
But it seemed he intended to tell.
‘Mary, my father, his father and his father before him practically owned Manhattan,’ he said. ‘My father was a womanising megalomaniac. My mother was a talented, beautiful, fragile screen star. Rita Marlene. You may have heard of her. She needed support and love and appreciation to thrive and with my father she got nothing.
‘After Jake and I were born she retreated into her stage world, where her only reality was her acting. It reached the point where even when she was upset, we never knew what was real or make-believe. Ophelia, Lady Macbeth, Anna Karenina, Jake and I had them all. Plus isolation and nannies. The only time Jake and I were noticed by our parents was when we did something outrageous and, believe me, we made outrageous a life skill.
‘I don’t think we realised...how much worse it made everything. That every time we hit trouble our father blamed Rita. Rita.’ He gave a harsh, short laugh. ‘She was always Rita. Stage Rita. Never Mom. And my father was Sir.’
‘Ben—’
‘I know, this is self-indulgent history,’ he
