The Diary Of Pamela D. - Page 72/114

She should have been elated, but the distant manner in which he imparted this information, making questions sound more like statements in the bargain, made her feel keenly let down. Surely it wasn't supposed to be like this? She ventured a surreptitious look at him but he seemed a million miles away, as though a reply from her was of little or no consequence.

When she didn't answer, he frowned. 'You must realize that we cannot continue simply sleeping together. I need an answer.'

She felt as though she were foundering as a voice that seemed as though it belonged to someone else said hesitantly, 'Yes.'

'Good,' he said, as though satisfied. 'That's settled then.'

Upon reaching Bradford they stopped at a restaurant for breakfast. After placing their order Theo stared out the window in silence for some time. Belatedly noticing her mood, he muttered, 'Sorry, I'm not being very good company, am I? Is something wrong?'

There was, of course, but she was afraid to say anything that might jeopardize their being together. As she was wont to do, she said words that were out of her mouth before she even knew what she was saying.

'What were they like?'

'Mm?'

'My parents. You told me you met them.'

He took a deep breath, his expression belying mistaken comprehension of her mood.

'I told you I spoke with them.' Watching her carefully, he said, 'Are you sure you want to hear this? I'm afraid that what I learned is far from pleasant.'

Though a foreboding feeling touched her heart, a feeling that promised to leave her feeling riven and desolate, she nodded.

'Very well. But I warn you, it might be better for you not to know.'

'I have to know,' she said very quietly.

He paused, reluctant to speak, and was then spared for the moment where their food arrived. It was apparent to Pamela that he used this time to organize his thoughts, to carefully consider and weigh what he was about to tell her. When he began speaking, however, she felt as though she had been physically struck. His tone of voice, too, was brutal, and the words he spoke left her feeling as bleak and empty as a wilderland.

'To begin with, to give you some idea of what kind of people your parents are, you are not your father's daughter. The two of them told me that your mother deliberately got herself pregnant with you by a man she used to meet in a bar, just to get back at your father because he was sleeping around. Neither of them wanted you. From the start your mother thought of you as an interloper and a burden, and your father hated you because you weren't his . . . '