‘You okay?’ Simon asked, looking at her and frowning.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you need to see Carole?’
‘No, it’s not that – I’m not feeling unwell,’ she said, stretching her legs out in front of her. ‘Just something feels off.’
‘Okay? Talk me through it,’ he said, putting his sandwich down.
Amanda squinted as she thought, trying to piece it all together. ‘I think Diana is not telling me the truth.’
‘About what?’ he asked.
‘About everything,’ she said. ‘But if I ask her outright and I’m wrong then I look like an ungrateful bitch.’
‘Give me an example.’ Simon had turned to look at her and she twisted to face him and blew a curl out of her eyes.
‘So, I asked Diana if she had any children and she said no, but then I met this woman whose mother-in-law used to be friends with Diana, and she said Diana had a baby but no one knew what happened to it. I think it might have died.’
‘That’s sad,’ said Simon with a frown. ‘But she doesn’t have to tell you about that; that’s her story and she can keep it private.’
‘I agree but I found a suitcase in the attic that was clearly meant for someone who was going to a hospital to have a baby. It was filled with maternity wear and toiletries and a few baby clothes, but they were really old-fashioned, the baby clothes I mean. Like, for a baby in the 1940s. And in the case was the pearls that Diana and her mother are wearing in their formal portraits, along with some other jewellery that had been hidden in the lining.’
‘All right, Nancy Drew, you might be overimagining things a little. She probably hid it up there so she never had to think about it again, especially if the baby didn’t survive.’
But Amanda shook her head. ‘Something doesn’t feel right; it never has. I get Mom bought a ticket but Diana is evasive when I try to ask her questions about the competition to win the house, and sometimes, there’s just a funny feeling that she’s not telling me the truth about things. Not that I feel she’s doing anything untoward, but it feels as though she’s deliberately editing her life for my benefit.’ Amanda paused. ‘And… Okay, this is crazy, so hear me out.’
Simon listened intently.
‘I think I look a bit like Diana and her mom in the portraits of them in the living room. I can’t explain it but they’re wearing the pearls in those paintings and when I put the pearls on – to try, you know?’
Simon nodded.
‘I looked at myself in the mirror and then at the paintings and I could see it. The skin tone, the nose shape, the eyebrow definition. They only difference is I’m a redhead, and my mom was a redhead.’
Simon sighed. ‘Okay, I hear you but it’s all based on assumptions. You need more evidence than that and you won’t get anywhere with accusations.’
‘I know. It seems so far-fetched but something isn’t sitting properly with me.’
‘What about your mother? Who were her family?’
Amanda scratched her head, thinking. ‘Mom was adopted, but she didn’t like her adoptive family. Super strict and religious, according to her. They were also abusive. She left for New York and never went back.’
‘That’s sad for her,’ said Simon. ‘She must have felt very unwanted.’
‘That’s why she called me Amanda, she said. It means “worthy of love” in Latin.’
Simon laughed. ‘Do you know what Simon means?’
Amanda smiled at his laughter. ‘No. What does it mean?’
‘“Reputation”, which is shite, by all accounts.’
Amanda laughed. ‘Don’t be so mean about yourself. It’s Anika’s and Charlie’s reputations that are shite, as you say – also, great word. I’m going to steal it and use it.’
‘That’s a gift to you from us Brits,’ he said.
‘Thanks, you’re so kind to me.’ She laughed again.
