nodded. What did he mean,
he’d
lied? About what?
‘I don’t really know where to start,’ he said. The sparkle in his eyes was gone; they looked steely grey. ‘I’m just going to come straight out with it . . . Lily,
my dad isn’t dead.’
Chapter 12
Katie said her mum knew that her dad was having an affair because he kept buying her flowers and gifts. She called them guilt tokens. I think I understand why he did it.
Giving Jack the scarf and seeing his reaction made me feel better about everything I’d done. It eased my conscience. So does that mean I’m like Katie’s dad? Does it mean I was
unfaithful to Jack? I don’t think you could call what I did cheating; there was no other guy. You could call it enterprising. You could call it sneaky, even dodgy. But not unfaithful. I had
Jack’s best interests at heart all the way along. And what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right?
‘My dad isn’t dead,’ Jack repeated. ‘At least, not as far as I know. I mean, he might be. I haven’t spoken to him for five years. But he
didn’t die when I was twelve.’
Jack stopped, as if to check whether I’d understood what he’d said. I think he’d expected some sort of reaction, something more vocal than me just sitting there with my mouth
hanging open. But I was so stunned that I didn’t have a clue what I could say.
‘We left him then,’ he continued, ‘and we haven’t seen him since. We don’t want to, either.’
‘It’s OK,’ I said, softly, finding my voice. ‘What happened? You only have to tell me if you want to.’
‘He wasn’t a good dad, Lily, or a good man.’ He laughed. ‘That’s way too kind. He was a piece of shit. He treated my mum like he owned her. He hurt her –
physically, I mean. He used to beat her and kick her and throw things at her. It went on for years, from when I was little. Nobody outside had a clue what he was doing. He wasn’t some drunken
yob. He was a teacher, believe it or not: Mr Respectable. He was very clever about it. He’d never hit her in the face or anywhere it might show. There was this one time when he broke her rib
and she could hardly breathe properly, and the next night they had to go to some school function, and she put on her lipstick and did her hair and went, like nothing was wrong. I really hated him
for that.’
I thought of Jack’s mum. I liked her. She seemed strong and in control, not the terrified, meek woman he was describing. ‘Why didn’t she leave him?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know, why do people do anything? Why did he hit her? I think at first she still really loved him and hoped he’d stop. He promised he would; every time he did it he
said he was sorry and it was the last time. Yeah, until the next time. Maybe she thought it was her fault. He said she deserved it because she was stupid and she got things wrong. Like using the
wrong plates or putting too much pepper in the soup – if he was in
that
mood, it could be anything. Everyone else thought he was so wonderful, she probably thought it
was
her. She didn’t think anyone would believe her if she told on him. He knew that; he told her people would laugh at her or think she was mad. And it probably had to do with money too: she was
looking after me and Ruth and not working, and she didn’t want us to lose our home and our friends.’
‘Oh my God, Jack,’ I said. I stroked his arm, uselessly, hoping it would be some comfort.
‘There’s more,’ he said. ‘When I got older, like nine or ten, and I was a bit taller and stronger, I’d try to protect Mum. I could tell when he was going to lose it
– you pick up on these things after a while – and I’d get in between them so he couldn’t hurt her. Sometimes it would work and he’d storm off, other times he’d
just push me out of the way. And then, one day, when I’d just turned twelve, he went for me too. I was up in my room and I could hear him screaming at Mum, and Ruth was crying next
he’d
lied? About what?
‘I don’t really know where to start,’ he said. The sparkle in his eyes was gone; they looked steely grey. ‘I’m just going to come straight out with it . . . Lily,
my dad isn’t dead.’
Chapter 12
Katie said her mum knew that her dad was having an affair because he kept buying her flowers and gifts. She called them guilt tokens. I think I understand why he did it.
Giving Jack the scarf and seeing his reaction made me feel better about everything I’d done. It eased my conscience. So does that mean I’m like Katie’s dad? Does it mean I was
unfaithful to Jack? I don’t think you could call what I did cheating; there was no other guy. You could call it enterprising. You could call it sneaky, even dodgy. But not unfaithful. I had
Jack’s best interests at heart all the way along. And what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right?
‘My dad isn’t dead,’ Jack repeated. ‘At least, not as far as I know. I mean, he might be. I haven’t spoken to him for five years. But he
didn’t die when I was twelve.’
Jack stopped, as if to check whether I’d understood what he’d said. I think he’d expected some sort of reaction, something more vocal than me just sitting there with my mouth
hanging open. But I was so stunned that I didn’t have a clue what I could say.
‘We left him then,’ he continued, ‘and we haven’t seen him since. We don’t want to, either.’
‘It’s OK,’ I said, softly, finding my voice. ‘What happened? You only have to tell me if you want to.’
‘He wasn’t a good dad, Lily, or a good man.’ He laughed. ‘That’s way too kind. He was a piece of shit. He treated my mum like he owned her. He hurt her –
physically, I mean. He used to beat her and kick her and throw things at her. It went on for years, from when I was little. Nobody outside had a clue what he was doing. He wasn’t some drunken
yob. He was a teacher, believe it or not: Mr Respectable. He was very clever about it. He’d never hit her in the face or anywhere it might show. There was this one time when he broke her rib
and she could hardly breathe properly, and the next night they had to go to some school function, and she put on her lipstick and did her hair and went, like nothing was wrong. I really hated him
for that.’
I thought of Jack’s mum. I liked her. She seemed strong and in control, not the terrified, meek woman he was describing. ‘Why didn’t she leave him?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know, why do people do anything? Why did he hit her? I think at first she still really loved him and hoped he’d stop. He promised he would; every time he did it he
said he was sorry and it was the last time. Yeah, until the next time. Maybe she thought it was her fault. He said she deserved it because she was stupid and she got things wrong. Like using the
wrong plates or putting too much pepper in the soup – if he was in
that
mood, it could be anything. Everyone else thought he was so wonderful, she probably thought it
was
her. She didn’t think anyone would believe her if she told on him. He knew that; he told her people would laugh at her or think she was mad. And it probably had to do with money too: she was
looking after me and Ruth and not working, and she didn’t want us to lose our home and our friends.’
‘Oh my God, Jack,’ I said. I stroked his arm, uselessly, hoping it would be some comfort.
‘There’s more,’ he said. ‘When I got older, like nine or ten, and I was a bit taller and stronger, I’d try to protect Mum. I could tell when he was going to lose it
– you pick up on these things after a while – and I’d get in between them so he couldn’t hurt her. Sometimes it would work and he’d storm off, other times he’d
just push me out of the way. And then, one day, when I’d just turned twelve, he went for me too. I was up in my room and I could hear him screaming at Mum, and Ruth was crying next
Similar Books
