Clare was 24 and knew this only too well. So many secrets were locked away inside, so many regrets. An intelligent girl, she had been persuaded into taking the wrong options at 16, forsaking literature, which she loved so much, for maths at which she was so talented.

And yet she had pursued this path, and received a place at a good university, only to drop out during her third year. Such a shame, the tutors all said, she was such a gifted student. But her mother insisted she was unable to cope at home since her father’s stroke, and, dutiful as ever, she returned home.

When she met Joe she was 22, young, intelligent, beautiful. He was 34 and convinced he was to be very successful. Just why it hadn’t happened yet was never explained. He was infatuated, and she, polite and obliging as ever, entered a relationship. When he proposed she accepted, but the engagement was long and she dithered, unsure if this was what she wanted. Joe was both scared she’d leave him and in charge of contraception, a dangerous combination. She became pregnant, to the horror of her friends, some of who had hoped for an imminent break-up. The marriage went ahead, and Clare’s figure conspired with the long dark hair, big blue eyes and glossy smile to ensure it was impossible to tell she was four months pregnant.

Five months later, their first child was born. Clare had never been, and has never been, so happy as she was for the first few months with her daughter. Who was to know it’d never last?

16 years later, Clare and Joe gave the first clues of the story to their little girl. And through conversations, phone calls and letters, she discovered just how she had come to be, and what her conception had meant, and how it was she that had locked her parents into this frequently unhappy relationship.

And she flicked her long dark hair, wiped the tears from her big blue eyes, turned on her glossy smile and hid it all away, praying the history would not repeat itself.

< - >

* the marks of memories forgotten
* wasting emotions, over again
* intentions, and such
* nothing unusual, nothing's changed - just a little older, that's all (damien rice : amie)
* now I understand! It doesn't make sense because it isn't supposed to