I stared at her, unable to speak. Dad and Kathryn had an affair and took a romantic trip to France. Perhaps this is why Kathryn and Jeffrey moved to America. Knowing about the affair might’ve been enough reason for him to relocate them if it kept his wife away from our dad. Then pieces started slotting together, forming a picture too painful to look at: Jeffrey’s hatred of Jack, his insistence in his journal that Jack wasn’t his son, his extreme reaction to finding you two kissing when you were teenagers because he knew something we didn’t: Jack could be our half-brother.
Chapter Forty-Nine
160 Days Missing
Adaline Archer
Making excuses about an appointment I’d forgotten, I left Kathryn’s house, but not before I swiped the spare key for Wisteria Cottage from the grey key box. I had no intention of using it, sure the police could secure a warrant after I handed everything I’d found over to them, but picked it up just in case. Eventually, I’d return it without her knowledge, just as I did with the spare key to Jack’s.
I drove around the corner and pulled over, sending Christopher a message to ask if he’d meet me in half an hour. Then I called Dad because I couldn’t talk to him about this face-to-face. If I did, I wouldn’t get to Christopher in time. I was right about the affair, I knew I was, but the very second it was confirmed, nothing would be the same again.
‘Alright, Ada?’ said Dad. ‘This is a nice—’
‘Did you have an affair with Kathryn Westwood?’ I blurted before I could change my mind.
Silence stretched down the line like a violin string being pulled too tight. He cleared his throat. ‘Where’s this come from?’
My heart sank – he hadn’t denied it. Surely if you’d been accused of an affair that had never happened, you’d be indignant, horrified you’d ever been asked. ‘You went to France with her.’
He sighed. ‘She told you that, did she?’
‘I saw the photos.’ I paused, letting him digest what I knew.
‘It’s not how you think, Ada.’
‘So what is it?’
‘Your mum and I took a little break. It’s not that I didn’t love her; I’d lost my job, we were stressed, it caused a lot of arguments. I moved out.’
‘I don’t remember that.’
‘You wouldn’t, you were still in nappies at the time. Kathryn was there for me, for us both, and one night …’
The child in me wanted to stick my fingers in my ears and sing ‘Lalalalala …’
‘Anyway, I’m not proud of it,’ he said gruffly. ‘Not proud of sneaking behind Jeffrey’s back the way we did. I told Kathryn to tell him the truth, but she didn’t want that, thought he’d leave her with nothing. Things between us came to an end after a few months, and when my head was clear, I knew I wanted to fix things with your mum.’
I remembered the stories of Jeffrey and Dad brawling in the Westwoods’ front garden. ‘You never fought with Jeffrey over money owed on a horse race, did you?’
‘No.’ He sounded resigned. ‘It was never about money.’
‘It was about you and her?’
‘Jeffrey accused Kathryn of an affair. I’m not sure he knew who with. She denied it. He was angry. Hurt her. She rang me and I went over to help.’
‘And Mum? Does she know what you did?’ I said this with more scorn than intended. Even though Mum and Dad had separated at the time, it still felt wrong.
He cleared his throat. ‘I told her eventually.’
I winced, imagining Mum finding out her husband had been sleeping with her best friend. ‘When?’
‘When they came back from America, after the first trip to their fancy cottage.’
My mouth fell open. ‘Nine years? You waited nearly a decade to tell her?’
‘What do you want me to say, Ada?’ he barked, remorse turning to anger. ‘I’m only human.’
I stayed quiet, collecting my thoughts. I’d always looked up to our dad, he wasn’t a rich man or a particularly emotional man, but he’d always been honourable. Or, I thought he was. But what is honourable about shagging your wife’s married best friend, separation or not?
Dad sighed. ‘It took your mum a while, but she forgave me, forgave Kathryn too. She’s a good woman. Better than I deserve.’
Just for a second, I wavered, wondering if leaving Ethan had been the wrong decision. If Mum could forgive Dad for what he’d done, surely Ethan and I could get past our differences? But then I reminded myself one size doesn’t fit all; just because Mum reconciled with her husband, it doesn’t mean I should or could reconcile with mine. Perhaps it would be different if we had children. Perhaps Mum wouldn’t have taken Dad back if it wasn’t for us. I took a deep breath, preparing to ask the one question to which I was scared to know the answer. ‘Dad …’ I began. ‘Is Jack … is he your son?’