Betrayal

Alan Stokes stood with his hand extended in the doorway of his office. She was bewitching. His gaze scanned her body from her long shapely legs to the perky set of her breasts beneath the gauzy sundress she wore. He ushered her into his office to the smooth leather chair facing his desk. He was distracted by her lovliness as he seated himself behind the desk. "Now, Lydia," he began, "I am not sure how much Dan has told you about me so let me introduce myself. My name is Alan Stokes. I am a graduate of the University of Edinburgh in Scotland with a Masters in Abnormal Psychology and my Doctorate is in The Psychology of Dreams. I have written articles for journals like The New England Journal of Medicine and The Harvard Journal of Medicine to name a few. I have been published in many trade magazines and beside my classes here I teach workshops in stress reduction. There now. Tell me a little about yourself. Do you mind if I turn the tape recorder on?" Lydia nodded her assent and asked, "What do you want to know?" "Where you went to school? What your hobbies are? I am sure Dan told me that you grew up in Halifax. Were you born in Nova Scotia?" "Actually, no. I was born in Totnes in Devon in England, but my father and I moved to Nova Scotia when I was quite young." "Totnes! I spent many a school holiday in Torquay. Tell me about your parents. I notice you mention your father but not your mother. Is she dead?" "My parents were estranged. I grew up believing my mother had died when I was five or six. My father would never speak of her and I learned not to ask questions." "Is your father still living?" Stokes asked as he scribbled on a pad of paper before him. "No, he died in a car accident in October of last year." Lydia hesitated. He cleared his throat and said, "Please go on," The color drained from Lydia's face; her voice became somber as she said, "So many lies. He told me so many lies." "What do you mean when you say, 'so many lies'?' "My fathe rhad always told me that he had rescued me from an abusive mother. He never gave details and I guess, I never asked for them. When I went through his papers after his death, I found numerous letters from my mother begging him to bring me home to England. Letters that were written years after she was supposed to have died. The letters were addressed to someplace in England and forwarded to Halifax. There were other letters, as well as Court papers. It seems that after we came to Canada my father had our names changed." Stokes picked up a pencil then laid it down again, his notes could wait. "Why do you suppose he did that?" "I don't know. He never mentioned it. I had assumed Hamilton was the family name. I had no reason to question it, but the reason became obvious when I read the letters from Devon. He was trying to hide me from my mother." Exasperated, Lydia cried, "My name is not even Lydia, it is Olivia, Oliva Hammond."