The Venetian's Proposal. Lee Wilkinson
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warning, they decided I was old enough to know the truth. My natural mother, whose name was Helen, was my grandmother’s only child. From the age of thirteen she’d been a bit wild, and she was barely sixteen when she discovered she was pregnant.
‘It seems she wanted to have an abortion, but my grandmother was horrified and insisted on her going through with the pregnancy.
‘She hated the whole idea of motherhood, and even before I was born blamed me for spoiling her life. When I was only a few weeks old she disappeared, leaving my grandmother to take care of me.’
‘Your grandmother must have been quite young when she died?’
‘She was in her middle fifties. She had some kind of minor operation that went tragically wrong.’
Running lean fingers over his smooth chin, Dominic remarked thoughtfully, ‘So, with having the same parents, you and your husband must have been brought up like sister and brother?’
Made a little uncomfortable by the bluntness of the question, she answered, ‘We were always very close. Though we spent most of our time together—we even went to the same school—we never argued or fell out… I can’t ever remember not loving Jeff, and it was the same for him.’ Smiling fondly, she added, ‘He once told me he’d loved me since I was a scrawny five-year-old with big solemn eyes and a pigtail.’
‘Didn’t close friends think it strange that you never quarrelled like other siblings?’
She answered truthfully, ‘I don’t recall having a really close friend, apart from Jeff, until I got to college. As children, our parents didn’t encourage us to mix much, and really we never seemed to need anyone else.’
‘What about when you grew into adults?’
‘You mean did we stay friends?’
‘I mean when did you become lovers?’
‘Jeff wanted us to sleep together as soon as I’d turned eighteen.’
‘But you didn’t?’
She shook her head. ‘No… Though after he’d died I almost wished we had. It seemed such a waste of three years… But although our parents were kind, they were quite strict and God-fearing, and they seriously disapproved of anyone having sex outside marriage.’
‘So what happened?’
‘Jeff suggested we should get married, but we were due to start college and neither of us had any money. Eventually he decided to approach our parents and tell them we loved each other and wanted to be together.
‘When he did, they said if we waited until we’d finished college—to be sure we weren’t making a mistake—they would give us their blessing and pay for a white wedding and all the trimmings. That way they could be proud of us.’
Seeing Dominic’s expression, she admitted, ‘It must seem terribly old-fashioned, but we’d been brought up to respect their wishes, and living under their roof meant accepting their standards. Apart from anything else they’d been very good to me, and I didn’t want to let them down, so finally we promised to wait.’
His grey eyes intent, Dominic asked, ‘Surely a promise like that went by the board once you got into student accommodation?’
‘The college was only just down the road, and in the circumstances it seemed sensible to keep on living at home.’
Dominic’s flicker of a smile said it all.
Disturbed by that smile, she found herself defending the decision. ‘It was what our parents wanted us to do. They said some of the students were a wild bunch and we’d be better off at home.’
‘I would have bet on it.’
Before Nicola could make any comment, he pursued smoothly, ‘So you finished college and had a white wedding… Then what?’
Unused to dissembling, she spoke the exact truth. ‘I moved into Jeff’s room.’
‘Didn’t you find being under your parents’ roof somewhat…inhibiting?’
She had, more so than Jeff.
A little defensively, she explained, ‘It wasn’t how I would have chosen to do things. We’d both graduated with honours—Jeff in Design Engineering, me in Modern Languages and Business Studies—but neither of us had managed to get a job… In any case our parents, who had lived in rented accommodation all their lives, wanted us to stay with them until we could afford to start buying a place of our own, and Jeff was in agreement…
‘I know that must sound a bit staid and unexciting…’
His voice almost angry, Dominic said, ‘It sounds soul-destroying.’
Nicola flushed painfully.
Watching her colour rise, he apologised. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made a remark like that.’
As lightly as possible, she said, ‘That’s all right. And it wasn’t really so bad. At least Jeff and I were together…’
Then, wistfully, ‘Though it would have been nice if we’d ever been able to move into a place of our own…’
‘So you never succeeded in getting away?’
She shook her head. ‘I’d managed to get an office job, but Jeff was unlucky. The company he’d joined made massive cutbacks, and he was one of the first to be made redundant, so we were still trying to save up when the accident happened.’
‘Earlier you mentioned that after the accident you went to live with your friend Sandy?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t remain at home.’
‘Our parents were killed in the same accident. The three of them were coming to pick me up from work when a lorry went out of control and hit them. We were all going on a family holiday.’
‘So you were left with no one.’
‘Sandy was very kind.’
‘How did you cope with your freedom?’
She looked up startled. ‘I suppose the answer’s not too well. Though I never thought of it as freedom… It just seemed more like loneliness. I missed Jeff so much…’
‘Having lived together for most of your lives, I suppose you were bound to. What was he like?’
‘Very much like you.’ She spoke without thinking.
The look in Dominic’s eyes was swiftly veiled, yet she felt certain that he was far from pleased by the comparison.
Coolly, he said, ‘Well, as you obviously loved him a great deal, I should feel flattered… Though I’m not convinced you know me well enough yet to compare us.’
‘I—I meant in looks,’ she stammered. ‘Like you, he was tall, dark, and handsome…’
‘A hackneyed phrase that can cover a multitude of sins,’ Dominic observed mockingly. ‘However, do go on.’
But as she described her late husband, visualising his face as she spoke and superimposing his features on the man sitting opposite, she knew her impression that they were alike was totally false.
The only similarity was the height and colouring.
Jeff had been over six foot, but compared to this man’s broad chest and mature width of shoulder he had been… The thought that came to mind was weedy…
Feeling dreadfully disloyal, she pushed it away.
Both had hair that was a true black and wanted to curl, but while this man’s was cut short and tamed Jeff’s had been a boyish riot of tight ringlets.
He had still been boyish in many ways, his hands big-knuckled and bony, as though he hadn’t yet grown into them, his face