The Illusion of Deception
Working at the Royal Academy of Music, Emily had little interest in anything beyond her music. Since childhood, her life had revolved around two things: her mother and her piano. At twenty-eight, she was unmarried, having briefly dated a fellow musician, but their relationship dissolvedtoo complicated when both were talented and lost in their own worlds.
Three months ago, she met Oliver, a solicitor, by chance in a café near the academy. She hadnt wanted to go homeher mother had recently passed, and the house felt unbearably silent and empty.
“You look rather down,” Oliver had said, approaching her. Hed been watching her sip her tea. “Im Oliver. And you?”
She was beautiful, distantintriguing enough to approach.
“Emily,” she replied softly, offering a faint smile.
From then on, they began seeing each other. Oliver often stayed over and even proposed, but she hesitated.
“I cant say yes yet, Ollie. Ive only just lost Mum.”
Her mother had raised her alone. Emily 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, the weight of grief and loneliness pressed on her. She even wonderedshould she try to find him?
“I dont know how I feel about it,” she confessed to Oliver. “Ive never met him. What if he doesnt want to see me?”
Emily had lived a sheltered life. Her mother handled everythingbills, household matterswhile she immersed herself in music. Her mother had warned her, “Emily, you must learn to manage things. What will you do when Im gone? Youre too detached from the real world.”
“Oh, Mum, you handle everything perfectly,” Emily would laugh. “Why should I bother?”
But life was cruel and unpredictable. It took her mother abruptlyan illness that burned through her too quickly. The doctors could only shrug. “It was too late when she came to us.”
“But she never complained,” Emily wept.
“Perhaps she didnt want to worry you,” the doctor replied. “Still, there must have been signs. The body always gives warnings.”
Oliver was sharp. The first time he visited her flat, he was stunned. Expensive paintings hung on the wallsthough Emily had no interest in art. Shed grown up with them. But Oliver knew their worth.
In the evenings, Emily practiced for her next recital while Oliver listenedor pretended to. He had already realised there was much to gain. He rifled through her mothers documents, letters. Her only living relative was an aunt, Margaret, who lived in Scotland. So he pushed for marriage, knowing Emily was the sole heir.
Her reluctance frustrated him. She barely knew him, and something in her resisted. But Oliver persisted, waiting, pressing his proposal. He knew she wanted to find her father.
One evening, Oliver arrived with news. “Were expecting guests tonight. Lets pick up champagne and something for dinner.”
“Guests? Who?”
“Ive found your father.”
“Oliver, really? Where? I always imagined he lived far awayanother country, even.”
“Hes here in London.”
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Oliver answered. Emily saw a tall, dark-haired man.
“My daughter,” he said, rushing to embrace her. “Ive never seen you. Youre beautiful.” He introduced himself as Richard Thompson.
Emilys middle name was indeed Richardson. They talked.
“Your mother and I parted ways, but she never told me about you.”
Seizing the moment, Oliver interjected, “Richard, since fate has brought you together, may I ask for Emilys hand?”
Still reeling, Emily faltered.
“If Oliver loves you, Ive no objections,” Richard smiled. “You have my blessing. Ill expect a wedding invitation.”
Richard became a frequent visitor, though he revealed little about his past with Emilys mother, claiming their relationship had been brief.
Emily sent an invitation to Aunt Margaret and her husband. They arrived early, wanting to help with preparations. One evening, the doorbell rang.
“Goodness, what a journey,” Margaret sighed. “The train was packed.”
They met Oliver, who left to give Emily time with family. Over tea, Emily admitted, “Aunt Margaret, Ive found my fatherwell, Oliver did.”
“Whats his name?”
“Richard Thompson my middle names Richardson.”
Margaret exchanged a look with her husband. “Oh dear,” she murmured. He nodded grimly.
“Whats wrong?”
“Your father isnt Richard. Hes William. William Carter. Your birth certificate lists no father. Your mother invented the middle name.” She sighed. “Emily, your father is William Carterthe dean of your conservatoire.”
“William Carter? Thats my old music professor! Then who is Richard?”
“Well ask Oliver tomorrow. Why this charade? Andhave you claimed your inheritance yet?”
“Not yet. Ill see the solicitor soon. But its just the flat”
“Emily, you sweet fool,” Margaret sighed. “Your grandparents were well-off. Your mother had a substantial account. These paintings are valuable. When our parents died, they left their estate equally to your mother and me. And since weve no children, ours will go to you.”
Emily cancelled the wedding. Shed never considered money, but now she wonderedwhy had Oliver been in such a hurry?
“Aunt Margaret, does William know about me?”
“No. His mother arranged a suitable match for him. By the time your mother realised she was pregnant, William had married another womanforced into it by lies. He loved your mother but assumed shed moved on when he saw her with a child. She never told him.”
“That night, Richard vanished. Oliver, confronted, slunk away without protest. Emily felt only relief.
The next evening, Margaret announced a guest.
“Who now?” Emily asked warily.
“Wait and see.”
The doorbell rang. Margaret returned, arm in arm with William Carter.
“My God,” he breathed. “You look just like me. Forgive meI never knew.”
They talked late into the night. Emily learned about her half-brother, a soldier stationed abroad.
“Only you inherited my love of music,” William said warmly. “My son chose another path.”
“I always wondered where it came from,” Emily laughed. “All our relatives are engineers!”
In time, Emily reconciled with her father. They visited her mothers grave together. He introduced her to his wife, Helen, a kind woman, and later to her brother during his leave.
A year later, Emily married Daniel, the son of Williams old friend. He taught economics at the university and had fallen for her at first sight.
Margaret and her husband attended, delighted with Emilys choicea steady, dependable man.
Lifes greatest illusions often fade with time, revealing truths we never expected to find. Sometimes, the things we chase arent what we truly needand what we need finds us when we least expect it.
