Reverb

by Lisa Swallow

  “How old is he?”

  “Eight.” She pauses and adds quietly, “He was born seven months after I arrived in Australia.”

  I shake my head, wishing I could shake away the crazy story Hannah’s telling me. I’ve never seen this boy, or a picture. Hannah mentioned him briefly when I asked who she lived with the first time we met, saying she lived with her brother and mum, but never mentioned him again. “No.”

  “He is, please believe me!”

  “If he is why are you only telling me now? If he was mine you’d have told me!” I shout.

  Hannah shrinks back in alarm. “I don’t know… it was easier that way.”

  “Easier?” I choke

  “I was sixteen and scared. I couldn’t cope with what was happening; nobody knew I was pregnant until I was seven months gone because I convinced myself it wasn’t happening. I had a breakdown, refused to believe I’d had a baby and Mum took over. I pretended he was my brother because that was the only way I–”

  “You didn’t tell me!” I interrupt. “Nobody told me! Why the hell not?”

  “What would be the point? Why ruin your life too? You were the other side of the world, at school still. Then your life took an even bigger leap away from mine and I decided not to.”

  “But when you got back in touch… I have money, why didn’t you…? Shit!” I sit, hold my head, inhaling against the dizzying realisation Hannah is telling me the truth.

  “Every time I saw you, I wanted to tell you but couldn’t find the words.” Hannah’s words echo as the distance between the outside world and my head grows. “I didn’t want you to think I was only interested in your money.”

  I have a son.

  “Where is he?” I ask, looking up. “Is he with you?”

  “Australia.”

  “Why isn’t he with you?”

  The trembling lip starts again but my sympathy for Hannah left. She lied. Hid.

  “He’s sick.”

  “Sick?”

  “Connor has leukaemia and he needs a bone marrow transplant. I came here because I wanted you to ask your family if they’d have tests. It’s a shot in the dark but there’s a possibility one of your family – even you – might match.” More rehearsed words.

  I heave in a breath. Too much. No more.

  This isn’t fucking real.

  “My son has cancer and you never told me?” I ask hoarsely. “How long? Were you going to let him die and never tell him who his father was?”

  “Please, don’t be angry.”

  “Angry? Fuck, Hannah. Do you understand what this is doing to me?” I jab my finger in the direction of the door. “There’s a kid out there who’s mine, who I’m responsible for. I’ve never seen him and then you turn up on my doorstep and tell me he’s fucking dying! You selfish bitch!”

  As soon as the words are out, I regret them, slamming a hand over my mouth. Hannah stands.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” I reach out to her as she steps back. “I shouldn’t have said that but I’m in shock here.”

  “I should go, until you calm down.”

  “You can’t dump this on me and walk away!” I shout.

  “Then, what? You’re upset. I don’t expect you to be rational.”

  This can’t be happening. How can I have a kid for eight years and never know? “I want tests. Prove it.”

  “Fine,” says Hannah in a tone of heavy defeat. “But he was conceived the summer I left Wales and the only person I had sex with was you. You know that.”

  And with that, Hannah has managed what I swore she wouldn’t. In a spectacular fashion, Hannah manages to haul me back in time to the place I’d shut the door on. The woman in the room with me is the girl who, nine years ago, cried when she told me she was leaving. The anguish on her face is that of the girl who clung to me and told me she’d love me forever.

  I fight. For breath, against all this, for me, for Avery, for a future I’d planned that slips through my fingers as I slip back in time.

  Hold onto the anger. Don’t look at her.

  “I think you should leave,” I say coldly.

  “I want to explain properly.”

  “Like you said, I’m fucking angry right now and this is not the time.”

  Hannah nods and buttons her coat with trembling fingers. “Just tell me one thing before I go.”

  I rub my face, rubbing sensation back into my frozen body. “What?”

  “Will you help?”

  “I’d have helped years ago if you’d asked me,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “I was trying to protect us all.”

  “This is why you never wanted us public, isn’t it? You were too ashamed!”

  “I don’t expect you to understand or forgive me. I’m asking for Connor. You don’t need to have anything to do with me.”

  I catch up to the reality further. In front of me is a woman whose son has cancer, her world broken apart by the devastation she might lose her child. With this, she’s been forced to let go of her biggest secret.

  Right now, I have nothing. I hate her.

  How fucked up that she pretended her own child wasn’t hers. How long for? How long has Connor known she’s his mum? Does he?

  Why the fuck didn’t she tell me?

  I waver. Her decision to lie has to be put aside because this isn’t about me or her. It’s about Connor.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  AVERY

  I return from Wales to a different Bryn, one who sits up alone drinking, who is more distant than we’ve ever been. On the second night of waking at three a.m. and hearing the TV on low in the lounge, I decide to confront him. Lack of communication spoilt things between us once before, I won’t let that happen again.

  Bryn looks up as I walk into the room, his drawn features and dull eyes pronounced by lack of sleep. “I thought you were in bed.”

  “I’m worried about you.” I hover in the doorway, unsure whether he wants me here, in the room or the apartment.

  “I’m okay.”

  “No, you’re not.” I indicate the bottle of whisky and empty glass. “I’ve never seen you drink as much as you have the last couple of days. You’re constantly in a fog of alcohol. This isn’t you. Talk to me.”

  Bryn ignores me and pisses me off when he pours himself another glass.

  “Is it something I did?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “What then?”

  Bryn shakes his head. “I can’t talk about this. I’m not ready.”

  “Has something happened?” My heart flips in panic. Hannah? “Is this about us?”

  “I said, no,” he replies gruffly.

  The silence between us is filled by low voices from the TV as Bryn gulps back the whisky. After a couple of minutes, I’m unsure he’s aware I’m still here.

  “Avery, I will talk to you about it once I’ve got my head together and decided what to do,” he says without looking at me.

  About us.

  “Right.” I curl up on the sofa next to Bryn and attempt to touch him but he’s stiff, muscles as tense against me as his words are.

  He turns his lost eyes to meet mine. “I have to go away for a couple of days.”

  “Away?” I ask attempting to keep my voice light.

  “Yeah, Wales. Family thing.” He switches his attention to the TV. He’s lying. “Tomorrow. Then I might have to go away for a little while. I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Band stuff?”

  “Bryn stuff.” He looks around. “You’re at school so you probably can’t come, right?”

  Each unspoken word behind his sentences squeezes the air from my lungs. He’s not telling me anything but saying so much. I don’t want you to come. I worried for weeks about starting my teaching training at a school across the city; but what I’m facing with Bryn eclipses any fear I’ve had.

  “Yes. Where might you be going?”

  “Australia.”

  No.

  Is Bryn stupid? Do men always for
get when they’ve told you things? Like my last relationship, mistakes like this unravel the lies told.

  He told me before, Hannah lives in Australia. What other reason would he have for going?

  “Right.” I shift away, swallowing down the words I want to throw at him, to confront his deceit, but this isn’t the time. He’s lost far in his own thoughts; I may as well not exist. “I’m going to bed.”

  I don’t think Bryn notices me leave the room.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  BRYN

  How long until the world knows?

  The fallout is immense.

  I head to Wales, not to see Hannah but to deflect the shitstorm about to happen. I can’t talk to Avery, not yet. My head is fucked by the news. I don’t know which way is up right now and the thought of talking to Avery about this too won’t fit into the jumbled mess in my mind.

  Mum’s hysterical reaction contrasted Dad’s silent disappointment, speaking to me as if Connor happened yesterday and I’m a naughty teen who couldn’t keep it in his pants. I’m a grown man, for fuck’s sake.

  Unfair. We were in love. Committed. Forever. The decision to take the final step in our relationship was made in the weeks leading up to Hannah’s departure for Australia. We had sex once. What are the chances?

  Fate.

  Me and Hannah, always fated.

  My old certainty that the world would bring me back to the person I was meant to be with resurfaces; I begin to excuse the lies Hannah has told me, rationalise why she behaved so secretively, allowing this to explain the constant confusion over what to do between us when we reconnected a few years ago.

  The world wanted us reunited, fate going about this in a horrible way by subjecting our son to cancer. I asked Hannah where her new partner is and she softly told me her relationship had broken down.

  Family pressure begins, how I should ‘make things right’, the traditional values seeping into the situation. My shocked sisters soon begin talking about their nephew, whispered conversations about what they think I should do. I’m ripped into pieces, disconnected from everything but the need to see him.

  Disconnected from Avery.

  ****

  I see Hannah again three days after my world imploded. The shock and anger retreats enough to consider a rational conversation with her. She has answers I need in order to make sense of all this.

  Hannah comes to my family home, where she sits outside on the patio and I stand a few metres away, at the edge of the lawn. Summer is late this year, the weather warmer than usual but Hannah wears a jacket against the unfamiliar temperatures.

  “I forget how green Wales is,” she says, gazing at my parents lovingly tended garden. “I don’t have plants in my garden at home. They all die.”

  I clench my teeth. “Hannah, I didn’t ask you to come to talk about the local climate and gardening.”

  “I’m nervous.”

  “Don’t be. I’m still fucking pissed off with you, but I’m calm this time.”

  “Okay.”

  I’ve rehearsed my questions but my mind blanks. After a few moments, Hannah looks me in the eyes for the first time and I see the confusion and anxiety barely hidden.

  “I need to understand why you’ve lied to me for so many years. I keep going over and over in my head and I can’t rationalise why. Especially the two years where we saw each other, why didn’t you tell me then?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. I wish I had.”

  I raise my voice. I don’t have time for half-hearted answers and more bullshit. “That’s not good enough; you have to fucking explain to me!”

  She shrinks back in her seat. “Bryn, please don’t swear at me.”

  “Answer the question!” I snap.

  “My mum insisted I tell you once you became famous, that you had the money to support us but I refused.”

  “Why?”

  Hannah’s gaze shifts to her hands. “Because that meant admitting he was mine.”

  “Does he know you’re his mum?”

  “Yes, now. Not at first.”

  I give a derisive laugh. “I bet that fucking confused him when you told him.”

  Hannah takes a sharp breath. “He was young and accepted it. We had to tell him before he started school otherwise the whole situation would get complicated.”

  “You should’ve told me too.”

  She looks back at me. “I’d broken the connection in my head, Bryn. I didn’t associate him with you.”

  “This is crazy!”

  “I was crazy,” she says with a small laugh. “Literally, and I’m still working through… stuff. When I contacted you a couple of years ago, I intended to tell you; but when I saw you, it was as if we were back at the start, when things were easy. You looked at me the same way, kissed me with the old tenderness, and I didn’t want to lose that Bryn again. I wanted us to be the Bryn and Hannah from years before. From before Connor.”

  I sit opposite her. Didn’t I do the same thing when we met again? I pretended to myself that we were Bryn and his forever girl and we were sixteen again, before the world pulled us apart. We concealed ourselves from the world and now we’re about to become centre stage.

  “It’s the reason I hid when we were together. With you, I was disconnected from reality for a few hours, days; I wanted to hold onto those times. The more I saw you, the harder it was to tell you about Connor, so I didn’t.” She swallows. “Sorry.”

  “Didn’t you want money?”

  She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to be the money-grabbing girl with the rock star’s love child.”

  “This isn’t about you though; it’s about my son. He could have everything. Anything.” I rub my head. “He could’ve had me – us, together, for him.” The more we speak, the harder it is to control the anger fuelled by the despair she lied.

  “This is why I made the decision last year,” she says quietly. “I want Connor to have stability, an ordinary life, and we couldn’t have that connected to you.” Her face screws up in confusion. “I don’t know. I really don’t. None of the decisions I made are what a normal person would’ve done. I can’t explain to myself, let alone anybody else.”

  “I loved you, Hannah,” I say hoarsely. “You could’ve had everything too.”

  “You wouldn’t love me once I told you the truth. I didn’t deserve you.”

  I slump back in my chair. I can’t talk about us, what might’ve been. I’m with Avery. I love her. This has become a mantra the last few days, because the new pull back to Hannah strengthens each day and I can’t give in.

  There is an ‘us’ and always will be, because of Connor.

  “Does Connor know about me?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you’d better bloody tell him because I’m coming to Australia!”

  Her face pales. “No, Bryn. I’m not asking you to do that.”

  “What the hell? I don’t care whether you ask me or not. You tell me I have a son and don’t expect me to want to meet him? Sorry, Hannah but this is over. You can’t hide Connor from the world anymore.”

  “But…”

  Hannah is still deluded that she can. “My whole family knows! This won’t be a secret you can keep. I have to see him!”

  “Please, don’t shout, Bryn.”

  I lower my voice. “I’m flying to Australia. I can’t go with you tomorrow but I’ll be there next week. He’s sick, what if he…” Dies.

  “Okay.” But her face tells me it isn’t.

  “I want to see a picture,” I say abruptly. “Show me what he looks like.”

  Hannah picks up her handbag and unzips it with trembling fingers. My heart beats harder, the reality about to intensify as she pulls out her phone.

  “These are from a couple of months ago.”

  I take the phone. A boy with brown curls grins for the camera, holding up a gift-wrapped box. Happiness fills his brown eyes. My eyes. I’m not sure how long I stare at the picture, fighting tears, pushing away the anger sur
ging closer to the surface.

  “The picture was taken on his birthday,” she says.

  I grip the phone until the metal bites into my hand. Eight birthdays. Eight Christmases. Eight long years of a part of me living a life, I had no role in.

  “Right. Can you send me that picture?” I hand the phone back to her, attempting to keep my emotions hidden. I can carry Connor with me on my phone until I see him.

  “I will, but Bryn…”

  I stand, interrupting her. “I can’t talk to you anymore because I can’t promise I won’t lose my shit.” I clench and unclench my hands, the image of Connor all I can see. “I thought this would help, but the last few days are like somebody has knifed me in the heart. Talking to you twisted it deeper.”

  A tear escapes Hannah’s eye, tears I’ve willed her not to cry because it would weaken me. However many times she explains, I will never, ever understand how she could do this to me – to us. Before I give in to Hannah when I’m not prepared to forgive her yet, I walk away.

  ****

  My extended family arrange to be tested as suitable donors while I prepare to travel to Australia and see my eight-year-old son for the first time. I should tell Avery but I don’t know what to say. I don’t tell the guys either. My head is fucked. They never knew about Hannah, all lost in their own worlds in the months me and Hannah were together, and I don’t want to tell them yet. Family fallout was enough to deal with, trying to explain what the fuck just happened to anybody else adds to more people trying to influence my decisions. I do this on my own and deal with this in my usual way. On my own. When I want to share, I will.

  One person from the Blue Phoenix world needs to know, the man who’s stayed off my back, relieved that one of his protégés kept out of trouble. Steve, our manager and the surrogate dad we don’t want him to be. Yeah, we’ve clashed a few times because I don’t take well to him talking down to us now we’re older but normally we get on okay.

  Steve can put measures in place to head off the scandal about to hit. I’m not denying anything, and Hannah isn’t threatening press involvement so his job should be easy.

  Bryn Hughes, the quiet and mysterious member of Blue Phoenix finally reveals his secret. One he didn’t even know he had.