Page 55 of The Lost Story of Sofia Castello

54

PORTUGAL, 2000

Sofia stops talking as Gabriel enters the room carrying a pot of coffee and two cups.

‘So – uh – everything is OK?’ he asks as he places them on the low table in front of us.

Sofia nods.

Gabriel looks at me anxiously, and I nod too. I’m still too busy reeling from the Trafalgar bombshell to think about anything else. He pours us both cups of coffee then backs off. ‘OK, I’d better go and, you know…’ He looks at Sofia, and she nods.

I wait until he’s left the room and I hear the front door close behind him.

‘I think I might know why you’ve been keeping this from me,’ I say as Sofia takes a sip of her coffee.

‘You do?’ she splutters, causing the coffee to spill onto her chin.

‘Yes,’ I reply, eager for the chance to prove I’m not quite as naive as she might think. ‘Is this something to do with my real father?’ I take a breath before continuing, my heart pounding. ‘Am I related to Trafalgar?’

‘What?’ Sofia exclaims, putting her cup back on the table.

‘Did you hire me to write your book because you found out that I was related to Trafalgar? I’m guessing he must have been my grandfather though.’ I study the expression on Sofia’s face. ‘Were you hoping to track him down through me? Is that why you asked me if I’d ever tried to find my real dad? Do you know who he is?’

Sofia stares at me, but rather than look guilty as I’d expected, she looks stunned. ‘Oh my goodness!’

Does this mean I’m right? Maybe she’s stunned at my ingenuity at working it all out? I wonder, and I feel a flicker of excitement laced with dread. Am I finally going to find out who my real father is – or was? But does this mean that my grandfather was a traitor? And then the craziest thought of all occurs to me. What if Sofia became pregnant after sleeping with Trafalgar? I stare at her wide-eyed.

‘Oh my God, are you my grandma?’

‘Oh, Lily.’ She grabs hold of my hand, and I begin to well up. ‘How I wish I was, but no, I’m not your grandmother and Trafalgar isn’t your grandfather. I was only asking those questions about your parents because I found it fascinating that we both have that in common – that we never got to know our real dads.’

‘Oh.’ I feel a rush of disappointment before realising that she said ‘isn’t’ rather than ‘wasn’t’ when it came to Trafalgar. ‘Wait a minute, you said “isn’t” – does that mean… Is Trafalgar still alive?’

‘Yes, and…’ She glances nervously at the muddy box on the table.

‘And?’ My breath catches in my throat. Why is she looking so anxious? What could be on those newspaper clippings that she doesn’t want me seeing?

‘And this is who he is.’ Sofia opens the box and hands it to me.

I take out the top clipping and stare at the headline.

‘But… but…’ I stammer as I’m overwhelmed by a choking sense of horror. ‘How is this possible?’