It’s hardly an appropriate role for you now, is it? You might have fancied passing yourself off to me and the rest of the world as an innocent young madonna, but what you actually are is little better than a whore, passing off her bastard child on someone else—or, rather, trying to. Unfortunately for you it’s just not going to work.
‘It’s his, I imagine? Dear, wonderful Lloyd? I saw him driving away the other evening just before I got home. Does he know you’re carrying his child yet? Does he…?’
‘I’m not carrying Lloyd’s child,’ Abbie denied, shocked. What was Sam trying to imply? She and Lloyd had never been lovers. The very thought of having a sexual relationship with him filled her with the same kind of horror she would have felt had he actually been her brother. She and Lloyd were close, yes, but not in any sexual way. Lloyd had simply called round to see her to talk to her about some problems he was having with his university course.
He had stayed longer than he had intended and had then had to dash off without waiting to say hello to Sam.
That Sam or anyone else should even remotely consider that she and Lloyd would have an affair and that, even worse, she would try to foist his child off on her husband was so totally and utterly ridiculous an idea that she instantly, once again, wondered if Sam was trying to play some kind of bizarre joke on her.
He did like to tease her occasionally, she knew, because—or so he said—he loved watching the pink colour flood her face when he did. But so far he had certainly shown no inclination to play the kind of elaborate and cruel practical joke on her which would give rise to his denial of their child. To do so would have been totally out of character for him, she was sure. But then she had not really known him so very long, had she? And, like her assumption that they would have children together, she had taken his gentleness and lack of any cruel or malicious streak on trust.
But surely she would have known, sensed, guessed if…
But she hadn’t known that he had had a vasectomy, had she? And, if he hadn’t thought it necessary to pass such a vital fact about himself on to her, what other vital information might he also be concealing?
‘Y-you can’t possibly believe that Lloyd and I are anything other than friends,’ she stammered chokily. ‘I’ve told you…’
‘Why not? Someone has to be the father of this child you thought you’d pass off as mine…’
‘But you’re the only man I’ve ever slept with…the only man I’ve ever loved,’ she could have added. But for some reason she held the words back. To talk of love in the present circumstances would be not just acutely painful but almost an act of sacrilege.
‘I know how hot in bed you are—after all, I’ve had more than enough proof of it,’ he added cruelly. ‘But if I wasn’t satisfying you you should have said—’
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