Sweet Deceit

by Duggan, K A

  “Neither of us are ready for this, but we’ll learn together. You won’t be figuring this out alone. You’re not alone anymore, Fliss. I’m here, I’m willing and ready to take on any weight you need removed from your shoulders. We can do this, but only if we do it together.”

  My head drops “I’m scared.” I admit on a whisper

  “Me too, babe. We can be scared together.”

  “This is huge, Ash.”

  “We haven’t exactly been conventional from day one have we? Why would we start now?” he leans forward, wrapping his hands in my hair and kisses my head.

  “Ouch.” I yelp as his fingers graze my lump.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. For a moment I forgot you had a banged-up head. Want me to kiss it better?”

  “Hell no. Leave my bump alone.”

  His eyes flick down to my stomach, he places a hand over it. “The next bump you have will be showered with kisses constantly.”

  “Ash I…”

  “I know. You haven’t agreed to anything yet. Give me a chance to wear you down. I’ll convince you this will be a good thing. The smartest choice you’ve ever made.”

  “I thought you were the smartest choice I’ve made.”

  “Oh I was, and lucky for you I came as a two for one deal.”

  “This was the weirdest buy one get one free purchase I ever made,” I mumble

  He grins as he senses my wavering decision.

  “Are you really ready for this?”

  “I’m always ready. You know that.” He winks

  * * *

  The next few days pass with Ash distracting me from my grief, my pain, and my nausea in any way he can. My doctors appointment was put on hold and I can’t say being spoilt and waited on by him are things I don’t like. I may love him but more than anything I’m grateful for him. I think that maybe the thing most overlooked in relationships. When we get bogged down by everything else, our gratitude for our other half is rarely spoken of or acknowledged. The little things they do to make our lives easier is taken for granted. I never want to do that. We haven’t broached how long his visit here will last, we’re taking the days one at a time. But it’s a constant niggling aggravation in the back of my mind. He will have to leave and with him gone I’m worried I’ll waver.

  I’m sat in my living room, adding my parts to Ash and I’s story when I see Gerry saunter past, straight-backed as always, making his way to our front door. I have zero interest in whoever might be calling so I get back to my writing. This manuscript isn’t far off being finished and I can’t wait for this to be my first project with what has become my publishing company. I’m going to make sure the representation Ash receives is second to none. He deserves his work to be seen and to reach as many readers as humanly possible. His sections of this are so poignant whilst adding a comedy edge to them. His talent is enviable. If anything lets this story down it will be my writing and influence in it.

  I whip my head up as I realise a heated exchange is going on in my hallway. Unable to resist I edge my way to the living room door and peek my head around the corner. I can’t see who the caller is because of the way the door opens and Gerry’s body blocking out the entry. But I can hear.

  “I want my money, Gerry! We have an agreement and she’s breaking the terms of it.” A woman shrieks.

  Uh Oh, what the hell has Gerry got himself into.

  “Jesus, Millie. She’s passed away. We’re still getting all her affairs in order.”

  This has my attention. They’re talking about my mother, not some gambling debt or something else Gerry forgot to pay off, but money my mother owes?

  “She’s dead?” The woman asks in disbelief “Surely provision was made for circumstances such as this?”

  “I’m sure they were, but…” he lowers his voice and I have to strain to hear his reply “… the girl doesn’t know and she’s taken over.”

  “Really? Maybe it’s time she was enlightened then?”

  “Don’t even think about it. You agreed to the terms if you break your silence the deal is null and void.”

  “I need that money, Gerry. I suggest you fix this, however you have to to ensure it’s mine by the end of the week. Deal or not, I’ll sing like a bloody canary if it isn’t in my account.”

  They’re so focused on their arguing viewpoints, Gerry’s body angled mostly out of the door, that they don’t hear my approach. Gerry’s knuckles are white from the grip he’s maintaining on the door. I pull it back further, away from him, causing his arm to drop and he spins to face me. I, however only have eyes for the woman standing on my threshold.

  She looks me up and down and as she does her features soften ever so slightly. Her hand flies to her mouth as she gasps.

  “Can I help you?” I ask her

  She shakes her head, her eyes flicking behind me to Gerry.

  “Are you sure? Because I don’t appreciate my staff being threatened. If my mother had some sort of business transaction with you that I’ve fallen behind on, then I’m the only one who can release funds.”

  Her eyes water, something akin to shame passes over her face and without another word, she turns on her heel and walks away. I watch her go, taking in her expensive shoes, tailored trousers, and fitted coat. Her blonde bob bounces as she strides away and I can’t tear my eyes from her. She never spoke a word to me, yet her silence is more than telling.

  Gerry clears his throat behind me and I spin around to train questioning eyes on him. He looks guilty, resigned to coming clean, about what, I don’t know.

  Before closing the door and starting my interrogation, Ash comes bounding up the steps, a bunch of flowers in his arms, a wide grin aimed at me which quickly falters as he nears. He reaches me and kisses my cheek “Hey babe, what’s wrong? Morning sickness again?”

  I incline my head in the direction of the sitting room and lead the way, expecting that they’ll follow.

  They walk in behind me, looking like naughty schoolboys about to be reprimanded by the head teacher. I indicate for Gerry to sit across from me and pat the space next to me for Ash to claim. He passes me the flowers he’s still holding and silently sits.

  “What was that about?” I ask Gerry

  “Felicity…I…”

  “What, Gerry? Was mum into something dodgy? Let me guess… was she a drug mule? Or maybe she hired a hit on someone?”

  Ash bursts out laughing but one look at my unamused expression and he goes silent.

  “Felicity, your mother… purchased something from that woman, something of the highest value. An instalment agreement of sorts was put in place. Your mother has never missed a payment… until now.”

  “Okay, so what did she buy? Tell me where to find the agreement and I’ll honour it.”

  He bows his head “I’m in somewhat of a dilemma. Your mother never wanted you to know about this. I gave my word I’d protect it.”

  “What’s with all the cloak and dagger? What the hell did she buy, Gerry?” Ash rests a hand on my jiggling leg as my voice raises. I feel like I need a drink. I know I’m not going to like the answer because goosebumps have sprouted all over my body.

  He looks crestfallen, but on a resigned sigh he looks me dead in the eye and whispers “You. She bought you, Felicity.”

  Felicity

  Current mood – Out of body experience

  Regret level – Math I can’t do

  Laughter pours from my mouth. That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. People like my parents don’t buy children. I never knew Gerry had such a warped sense of humour. Yet, this is more distasteful than anything. I look from him to Ash, neither of them are so much as smiling. I wonder briefly if I’m having some sort of sleepwalking episode.

  “Am I awake?” I ask Ash

  He nods sombrely “I’m afraid so.” He replies

  I cut my gaze to Gerry who is squirming uncomfortably “This isn’t a sick joke?”

  “I wish it was, Felicity.”

  I jump to my
feet and start pacing around the room, my heart and breaths coming erratically, “Gerry this isn’t funny. What the hell are you saying? I was sold? You’re telling me I’m nothing more than a transaction? What the actual fuck?!”

  “Language!” Gerry reprimands

  “Fuck off,” I scream at him.

  “Fliss…” Ash starts

  “What, Ash? Calm down? Don’t even think to say that to me right now. Would you be calm? Is there a certain way information like this should be received? Oh wait, I was never meant to know, was I?”

  He stands and strides to me, ignoring my tirade. He wraps me in his arms and we just stand like this in the middle of the room while my world comes crashing down for the second time. I sob against him.

  “Who does that?” I ask angrily as I pull away, swiping at my tears and stare down at Gerry “What was I worth?”

  He looks away as though doing so will make me leave well alone. “Answer me, Gerry. What was paid for me? How much did that woman – my birth mother sell me for? Pennies? Pounds?”

  “I don’t know.” He answers

  “I don’t believe you for a second”

  His guilt isn’t as strong as his dedication and allegiance to my mother, for a moment I think he’s going to open up but then his head drops and I know I’m in this alone. Loyalty to mother wins.

  “ Fine, then I’ll tear this place apart, there must be statements, you mentioned an agreement. If there’s proof to be found I’ll bloody well find it.” I stand, throw my flowers at him and storm from the room, heading to my mother’s study. The bundle of information I found, including my adoption certificate, was placed back in a draw and I never looked into them any further. They’re my starting point.

  I hear Ash enter behind me as he closes the door.

  “Jesus, Fliss. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t talk then, help me look.” I throw over my shoulder as I round the desk and rifle through the drawer.

  “Do you really want to do this? Digging deeper might not help.”

  “Nothing will help, but I’ll be armed with the facts and that’s better than being in the dark.”

  I find the pile I was looking for and instead of sitting at the desk chair, I wander to the middle of the room and lay them on the floor in front of me as I sit cross-legged. Ash joins me and together we go through them.

  “This says you were adopted.” He says holding up the adoption certificate

  “Yeah, I know. At least something was legal.” I snort

  “Gerry!” I yell and moments later he enters looking sheepish. I know this isn’t his fault, but he was privy to this information and is the only one who can answer my questions.

  “I want to know how this came about. I have the adoption certificate, so was something drawn up alongside it? I want the whole truth from start to finish.”

  “May I sit?” he asks pointing to the couch behind me

  “Go ahead.”

  Once seated, he thinks for a moment, wondering how to begin, probably also wondering how this responsibility fell to him.

  “The woman who arrived here earlier is called Millie. She took on a cleaning position here 20 years ago. Your mother and father were having trouble over their inability to conceive. From what I understand, Millie and your father started an affair that resulted in her becoming pregnant. Your father was overjoyed that he would finally be a father but fearful for he knew that was the ultimate deception. An affair your mother may have forgiven, but one that resulted in a child would be more than she could bear.

  Millie had other ideas, though. She was your age and a baby was the last thing she’d planned for. She told your father in no uncertain terms that she would not be keeping the child. He threatened her and in retaliation, she went to your mother and told her the whole sordid affair. Your mother was heartbroken, as you can imagine. She sacked Millie and threw her out. After having time to digest what she’d learnt, she rang Millie and asked to meet with her, which is where they came to an agreement if Millie carried the baby to full term, your mother would adopt the child and set Millie up for life with monthly payments on the condition that she never made contact with you, never made herself known in any way, shape or form, and this payment would run until you reached 21.”

  I shake my head “So, once I reached that age, she could have just walked up to me in the street and introduced herself? My parents were never going to forewarn me?”

  “I’m sorry, Felicity, I really don’t know all the ins and outs. All I know is the history.”

  “Where did she find the strength to do that? How could my mother agree to raise a child who was a result of an affair he had?”

  “She loved him, she wanted him to be happy and managed to put his wants and needs before her own. She couldn’t carry a baby for him, but she could raise a baby with him.”

  “Un-fucking-believable!” Ash says as he rubs my back.

  “I can’t believe this.” I say as a wave of nausea rolls over me, I jump up and run from the room straight to the nearest toilet.

  * * *

  I wondered where my deceptive streak came from because my parents were always pillars of the community in my eyes. This proves otherwise. I was always screwed because nature and nurture both fucked me over. I dry heave as my throat burns. I don’t know if this is from shock or from the life growing inside me. What I do know is the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree because I’m the same age as my birth mother when she fell pregnant and I’m also carrying a child I don’t want. This just cements my decision, although I would never sell a child.

  I lean back on my heels, running through my entire life in my mind. Everything I knew and believed has been shattered to smithereens. My whole identity is in question and I don’t know how to make peace with that.

  I make my way back to the study, walking in on Ash and Gerry having a heated debate. They stop the moment they realise I’m back.

  “That’s why my mother brought me up the way she did. Like I was a duty, she was kind to me, but always held me at arms length. She raised me to rely on her, to be my world because she knew I wasn’t really hers and she craved the devotion whilst loathing it because I was a constant reminder of my dad's affair. She loved and resented me. But she paid for the privilege, was saddled and was going to get her worth out of me.”

  “That’s not true, Felicity,” Gerry says jumping to my mother's defence as always, even now after telling me this farce of a story, she can do no wrong in his eyes.

  “Isn’t it? She never did anything with me, never played games, taught me to bake, took me on shopping trips or holidays. I was a prisoner in this house, I wasn’t even allowed to go to school, but taught here by tutors instead. She provided for me, but now I think about it she wasn’t maternal. I always thought she was my best friend, but it’s because I had no one else. She was literally my all because she excluded me from mainstream life. I wasn’t her all though, I was her lot in life. Brought up to have an education but not so I could have my pick of jobs, so I could take over her company, still keeping me chained to her.”

  “She loved you, Felicity. You have to believe that.”

  “I’m sure she did, in her own way. But don’t you see, she couldn’t love me properly. Especially as she did this all for my dads happiness and he still left her anyway. Left her to look after his child he persuaded her to bring up.”

  “She kept this from you to spare your feelings.”

  I snort “I hate her. I’m glad I left her.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Why, it’s the truth.”

  His eyes flick to the door, no doubt planning his escape, wondering if it’s acceptable for him to leave now he’s played his part “I know this has been a shock. I’m going to leave you to digest it, unless there’s anything else you want answered?”

  “I want that woman’s name, address, and phone number.”

  “Whatever you need.” He agrees, before making a hasty exit.

&n
bsp; Betrayal leaves a mark, like a blemish on the skin, only this goes beyond skin deep. In time it might fade or in turn, it can ultimately become a scar. A constant reminder of the wrong served. I don’t want to allow this to fester and turn into an ugly scar. I know to achieve any kind of closure I’ll have to tackle it head-on. Speak to Millie and lay this all to rest. Because I have my own life to live. There are no more secrets or skeletons in my closet. If anything, this explains so much and while I’m pissed off how I was used like an item you’d buy at a supermarket I’ve been through worse. I will get through this, I have to because curling up and whining about the unfairness won’t bring me peace. It won’t change what happened. The only positive about this whole situation is that I was looked after, fed, clothed, educated. I didn’t end up being bought by people to be enslaved or used. I was never beaten. I just was. I existed. Life is so much more than that. Feeling love, loss and laughter are things we have to go through. Never having any heightened emotions of any kind isn’t healthy – but that’s what I lived with, until mums illness. That was the first time in my life I’ve ever had to wade through strong, confusing emotions and thought processes that were alien to me. It was the first time I had to step up. They woke me up to my robotic routine, my empty life.

  I’m all for new experiences but meeting my real mother, the woman who sold me at birth is an experience I don’t know how to prepare for. I’m angry but numb.

  Anger is easier to hold on to. Compassion, empathy, any kind of understanding takes more work than allowing anger to take centre stage. Anger is an old friend, I’m just hoping I can make it past this step and get to the complacency level.

  Ashton