The Illusion of Deception
Working at the Royal Academy of Music, Eleanor had never been interested in anything but music. It had been her life since childhoodher mother and the piano. At twenty-eight, she was unmarried, having briefly dated a colleague, but their paths diverged. It was too complicated when both were talented and lost in their own worlds.
For the past three months, however, she had been seeing Oliver, a solicitor she met by chance in a café near the academy. She hadnt wanted to go homeher mother had recently passed, and the silence in the house was unbearable.
“You look sad,” Oliver had said, approaching her. Hed been watching her as he sipped his coffee. “Im Oliver. And you are?”
She was beautiful but distant, and he decided to introduce himself.
“Eleanor,” she replied softly, offering a faint smile.
They began seeing each other regularly. Oliver often stayed over and even proposed, but she hesitated.
“I cant say yes yet, Oliver. Ive only just lost Mum.”
Her mother had raised her alone. Eleanor had never known her fatherwho he was or where hed gone. She never asked, sensing it was a painful subject. Now, with her mother gone, grief and loneliness weighed on her. She wondered if she should try to find him.
“I dont even know how to feel,” she confessed to Oliver. “Ive never met him. What if he doesnt want to know me?”
Eleanor had lived sheltered by her mother, never learning practical matters like bills or paperwork. Her mother had warned her:
“Eleanor, you must learn these things. When Im gone, how will you manage? Youre so disconnected from the real world.”
“But you handle everything so well, Mum. Why should I bother?” shed laugh.
Life, however, was cruel and unpredictable. Her mother fell ill suddenly, and within weeks, she was gone. The doctors could only shrug.
“It progressed too quickly. She must have hidden her symptomsdidnt want to worry you.”
Oliver was sharp. The first time he visited Eleanors home, he was taken aback by the expensive paintings lining the walls. Eleanor had grown up with them but never paid them any mind. Oliver, however, knew their worth.
In the evenings, Eleanor played the piano, preparing for concerts, while Oliver listenedor pretended to. He had already realised there was much to gain from her. He rummaged through her mothers documents and letters. The only relative left was Aunt Margaret, who lived in Scotland. He resolved to marry Eleanor quickly, knowing she was the sole heir.
Her reluctance frustrated him. She barely knew him and had doubts about their future. But Oliver persisted, pressing for marriage. He sensed her desire to find her father and decided to use it.
One day, he announced:
“We have guests coming tonight. Lets stop by the shop for champagne.”
“Guests? Who?”
“Ive found your father.”
“Oliver, really? Is he here in London? I always imagined he lived abroad.”
“Hes here.”
Half an hour after they returned home, the doorbell rang. Oliver answered, and Eleanor saw a tall, dark-haired man.
“My daughter,” he exclaimed, embracing her. “Youre beautiful. Im William Parker.”
Her middle name was indeed Parker. They spoke for hours.
“Your mother and I parted ways, but she never told me she was pregnant.”
Seizing the moment, Oliver said,
“William, under the circumstances, may I ask for your daughters hand?”
Eleanor, still stunned, hesitated.
“If Oliver loves you, I give my blessing,” William smiled. “Ill expect a wedding invitation.”
From then on, William became a frequent visitor. Yet, Eleanor learned little about his past with her motheronly that their relationship had been brief.
She sent an invitation to Aunt Margaret and her husband. They arrived early, eager to help with wedding preparations. One evening, the doorbell rang.
“Oh, it took ages to get here by train,” Margaret said, embracing her.
They met Oliver, who excused himself to let Eleanor catch up with her family.
“Aunt Margaret, I found my fatherwell, Oliver did.”
“Whats his name?”
“William Parker. My middle name is Parker.”
Margaret exchanged a troubled glance with her husband.
“Oh dear,” she murmured.
“Whats wrong?”
“Your fathers name isnt William. Its JamesJames Whitmore. Your birth certificate lists no father. Your mother invented the middle name. Eleanor, I know everything. She didnt want you to know. Your father is James Whitmorethe dean of your music college.”
“James Whitmore? My piano professor? Then who is William Parker?”
“Thats what we must ask Oliver. Why this charade? Have you claimed your inheritance? Its been nearly six months since Vera passed.”
“Not yet. I suppose theres the flat…”
“Goodness, Eleanor, youre so naïve. Your grandparents were wealthy. Those paintings are worth a fortune. Your mother had a substantial bank account. And with no children of our own, youre our heir too.”
Eleanor cancelled the wedding. She had never considered money, but now she saw why Oliver had rushed.
“Aunt Margaret, does James Whitmore know about me?”
“No. His mother arranged a marriage for him, splitting him from your mother. Vera didnt know she was pregnant until after they parted. James married someone else, thinking Vera had moved on. She never told him.”
That evening, Oliver was met with a shock. Eleanor had packed his things. With Margaret and her husband present, he left without protest, realising hed been exposed.
“I feel relieved,” Eleanor admitted. “Something about Oliver never felt right.”
The next day, Margaret greeted her with news.
“We have a guest tonight.”
“Who now?”
“Youll see.”
When the doorbell rang, Margaret returned with James Whitmore.
“My God, you look just like me,” the music professor said, arms outstretched. “Forgive me, Eleanor. I never knew.”
They talked late into the night. Eleanor learned she had a half-brother, a soldier stationed abroad.
“Only you inherited my love for music,” James said warmly. “Im so proud of you.”
“Now I know where I got it,” Eleanor laughed.
In time, she grew close to her father, his wife, and even her half-brother during his visits.
A year later, Eleanor married Daniel, the son of Jamess old friend. He taught economics at the university and had fallen for her instantly.
Margaret and her husband attended the wedding, pleased with Daniela steady, reliable man.
In the end, Eleanor learned that truth, however painful, was far kinder than deceit. Family, whether found or inherited, was the real fortune.
