Eve was crying before she got to the end of the street. By the time the car had crawled through the traffic to where the A23 became a dual carriageway and headed north away from the town, the collar of her shirt was damp with tears that had dripped down from her jaw, tears that felt like they’d never stop.
Alan Derek Baker – the father she’d thought until recently was Alan Derek Glover – had had another family. He had been married when he met and became involved with Flora. Eve had begun to wonder if that might be the case, but it was still a shock to have it confirmed. Not only that, but this man already had a young daughter of his own. Was that why he didn’t want another child with Flora? Did he even know he was about to father a second daughter?
It sounded as if his sister – Alison’s mother – had known some of his secrets. She might have been the one to scrawl Return to sender on the envelopes. Maybe he’d told her there’d been an affair. Or maybe – Eve’s breath caught in her throat – there had been more than one. Flora Glover might have been just the latest in a long line of women to fall in love with Alan Baker during his frequent ‘business’ trips away from home. If he had a wife and child, he clearly couldn’t give out his real address, but why give his sister’s? If he was that much of a philandering liar, why not make something up so that if a woman came looking for him, she’d find no trace?
But Flora hadn’t gone looking for him. Maybe if she had, the whole thing would have turned out very differently. Then Eve wouldn’t have been told endless tales about the handsome, kind, doting father who was tragically taken from her when she was just eighteen months old. Instead, she would have had a father who didn’t face up to his responsibilities and Flora – knowing she’d been strung along by a man who never told her he was married – might not have worked so hard to maintain an illusion and give her daughter countless happy memories of a man who didn’t exist.
By the time she got back onto the M25, the traffic had died down and the rain had stopped, along with Eve’s tears. She was left feeling empty, as if every ounce of emotion had been forcibly drained from her body.
Clinging to the steering wheel, she struggled to concentrate as the streams of headlights raced by on the other side of the central reservation. The miles ticked past and she turned off the M25 on to the M4, heading west. When the sign flashed up for Reading Services, she knew she had to take a break. But once she’d pulled into a parking space, she couldn’t muster the energy to get out of the car and walk towards the brightly lit double doors of the service station.
Her mobile started to ring, and she frowned when she saw Flora’s name come up. ‘Mum? Are you okay?’
‘Eve! There you are!’ Flora sounded cross, but that was a relief. Cross was generally easier to deal with than miserable. ‘I haven’t bought any Christmas presents!’
‘Oh, Mum, that doesn’t matter. You don’t need to worry about getting presents.’
‘Yes, I do. But I think I’ve left it too late. Nathan has just told me it’s nearly Christmas now?’
‘He’s right, we’ve got a couple more days and then it will be Christmas Eve. But don’t worry about presents – Daniel and I weren’t expecting you to get us anything, you haven’t had a chance to go shopping!’
‘I don’t mean for you,’ Flora snapped. ‘I need to get a present for Barbara, because I’ve just found out she has bought me something called Cards Against Humidity. So, I need to get her something in return.’
Eve stifled a laugh. ‘Humanity, Mum. I think it’s called Cards Against Humanity.’
‘Well, whatever it’s called, she has bloody well gone and bought it for me, which is very embarrassing because I don’t have anything to give her. And the thing about presents is that you have to give them back to people, otherwise they get offended.’
‘I’m sure we can sort out something,’ Eve said. ‘I’m not at home at the moment, I’ve been…’ It suddenly occurred to her that she could tell her mother where she’d been. She could mention Brighton and see if there was any reaction. Or Lewes Close. I’ve been looking for my father, she imagined saying. But I’ve found out that he was a prize shit and that he lied to you – probably from the moment you met him. He had a wife and a daughter and a whole life that didn’t involve you, and he had no intention of giving any of that up for you. But she was never going to say those words.
‘I’ve been out for the day.’ She squeezed her eyes shut. ‘But I’m heading home now and I’ll pop in and see you tomorrow and we can think of something for you to give to Barbara for Christmas.’
‘Good, that’s good.’ Flora sounded calmer. ‘Maybe we can buy her some gin? Or a book with more casual sex in it? She liked that other one.’
Eve laughed. ‘I’ll have a think and we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Night, Mum.’
‘Night, night, darling. Sleep tight, don’t let the bloody bastard bedbugs bite.’