Two months after Bill visited Linda for me (I was busy with Caddy and couldn't make it) in London, Linda announced that a. she was pregnant and b. she was moving to Rome. Dad asked her gently who the father was and for a moment her eyes rested on Bill before she said it was none of Dad's business.
I didn't ask why Dad looked at Bill suspiciously. I didn't ask why Bill and Linda avoided each other like the plague. And I certainly didn't ask who the father was.
Linda moved to Siena and I didn't ask why. And I didn't ask why Bill went two weeks before.
The photos of beautiful Saffron came in and I didn't ask why Bill looked at them mournfully and I didn't ask why he looked so guilty.
Linda died and Saffy moved in with us. I didn't ask why Bill was so eager to adopt her, why he took so much care of her and why he beamed so brightly when she called him Daddy.
I didn't ask why Saffy looked like Caddy who looked a bit like Bill.
"Did you truly never ask my mother about my father Eve?" Saffy asked once
"Course I didn't!" I said, didn't need to. I already knew just didn't care. Happy to share with my sister, happy to pretend but I can't tell Saffy that. I can't explain it. So I rambled. Rambled about being a silly hippy.
And I am. I am a silly hippy that didn't ask.