Our Father Who Are Out There...Somewhere (25 page)

“Heavens, is that the time?” says David glancing over at the clock on the wall, which hasn’t worked since the day the girls arrived. “I’d better be going. Fi, can I have a word with you before I go?” Fiona nods. “In the kitchen, Fi?”

As soon as the kitchen door closes behind them, David turns to his youngest daughter. “I want you to come home with me.”

“I’m not coming home until it’s all out in the open,” Fiona says. “I want my mum to know what’s been happening in my life, I want her to know I’m not an only child anymore. I have a sister. I want us to spend Christmas together, go on holidays together, get to know each other as a family.” 

Each of her requests lands on her father, as if it were a hammer banging in a nail. “Fi…”

“Do you know she’s never been abroad?”

“Why don’t you come home with me now and we can tell your mother together?”

“No way, it wouldn’t be fair on Mum.” Fiona looks up at her parent, her eyes filled with a mixture of pity and anger. “You have to tell her yourself or she’ll never forgive you.”

“What about school?”

“We break up on Friday. It’s only a couple more days and it’s not like we learn anything in the last week of term.”

“It’s an important year.”

“What’ve you told them? Bet not that I was kidnapped by my half-sister.”

“You can’t stay here with Stuart. You’re too young. I won’t allow it.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Why don’t you go back to Lily’s house? If you want to spend some time getting to know each other, you don’t need him around.”

“I want him around.” Fiona folds her arms across her chest.

Her father sighs. “He’s too old for you. You need to be with a boy your own age.”

“He’s eighteen, Dad. He’s three years older than me. Mum’s eleven years older than you.”

“But I didn’t meet your mum when I was fifteen, Fi. We were both grown up.”

“I’m sixteen in less than a month. And I’d be more grown up if you stopped treating me like a child the whole time.”

“Men his age have different agendas, want different things.”

“You’re too late, Dad.” Fiona juts out her chin as she stares at him. “I already know about those different things.”

His eyes fill with tears. “Oh, Fi.”

“You’ve got to let me grow up,” Fiona shouts at him, as he turns away from her and to the worktop for support. “I’ve been going out with him for over a year. You should be pleased my first time was special, and with someone I love, because Lily’s certainly wasn’t.”

David pulls out a kitchen chair and sits down. “I could call the police. Have them all arrested for kidnap, extortion, God alone knows what else.”

“I’ll tell them I went of my own accord. As a matter of fact, it was me that suggested demanding a ransom. You should see where she grew up. She has nothing. I thought you owed her.”

“Well, I’ve paid her. I don’t begrudge her the money, Fi, really I don’t. I would have gladly paid child support, had anyone ever allowed me the opportunity. Why don’t we go home and talk this all through?”

“I’m not coming home till Mum knows. I refuse to live a lie.”

David puts his head in his hands. His shoulders start to heave.

“Dad, don’t, please. Everything will be all right, really it will.” Fiona leans her head against his back, and winds her arms around this torso. “School’s finished for Christmas. I just want some time with Lily. Please, Daddy. I still love you.”

David stands in the doorway, his arm around Fiona’s shoulders. She has both her arms around his middle. She looks at Lily, Jo and Stuart; all sat together on the settee and says, “I can stay til Sunday.”

“That’s great,” says Lily, checking her father’s face for a sign he thinks so too. David glares at Stuart with ill-disguised contempt.

“Don’t worry, we’ll look after her for you,” says Lily.

“Good. That means no smoking indoors.” David nods at Lily’s fingertips, and Lily stubs out her cigarette.

“I want you to promise to eat properly and don’t stay up too late. And remember Fiona is only fifteen. I don’t mind her having the odd glass of wine, but no spirits and no drinking to excess. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Fiona and Lily chorus.

David glares at Stuart again. “And I think it would be best for all concerned if you girls shared a room.”

Stuart’s face turns red.

“Dad,” Fiona stretches the word in the way that only teenagers can, so it sounds like it consists of two syllables.

“Why don’t we all have a drink now to celebrate?” says Lily, desperate for something to take the edge off.

Jo is up off the settee before anyone can say a word. “There’s a bottle of white wine in the fridge.”

“No, wait,” says Stuart, leaping up from the settee almost as quickly as Jo. “I’ve got something much better. At least it should be, it cost me forty quid.” He darts out of the door.

“I’ll get the glasses,” says Jo.

It seems to take an inordinate amount of time for Jo and Stuart to reappear with five wine glasses and a bottle wrapped in Christmas paper. Stuart unwraps it to reveal a 1982 Château Ducru-Beaucaillou. David glances at him and inclines his head. “Good choice, they’ve been having some problems lately.”

“It’s my Aunt Dorothy’s Christmas present,” says Stuart. “They invited me to spend the day with them, so I thought I should splash out. But, well, I think we deserve it more.”

“Just a small one, Fi,” says David.

“I don’t want any,” says Fiona. “You guys drink it.”

It’s a deep, red wine, smooth and warm. Lily takes small sips, allowing the wine to stay in her mouth, to flow over her tongue. By the time of their second glass, Jo is making David laugh with her Cilla Black impression. And when Lily and Fiona collapse in a heap of giggles together on the settee, David pats Lily’s head.

An hour later, David stands. “I ought to get going,” he says with the air of someone who has a root canal appointment.

“Hang on,” says Lily as she topples off the back of the settee. “I want to give you the money back. I’m sorry…”

David holds up a hand. “It’s yours; legally, morally. You’ve earned it and you should have had it a long time ago. If I’d have known where you were…”

Lily looks across at Jo. Jo appears as if she is holding her breath.

“But do something useful with it,” David continues. “Use it to buy a house, or invest it wisely. I can probably put you in touch with someone who could advise you. Anyway, I hope it goes some way to making amends…”

The four of them accompany him down to the front door and stand on the pavement to wave him off. The rain has stopped and it’s already dusk.

“Ok. Well, I’ll ring you when it’s safe to come home.” David ruffles Fiona’s short hair. She reaches up to hug him. He closes his eyes as if trying to infuse himself with her courage. Then he opens his eyes and turns to Lily.

He offers his hand to her. She shakes it, as she wishes him good luck. “It was, er, nice, meeting you.”

“Look after her… everyone for me,” David says to Stuart, without making eye contact.

“I will,” says Stuart.

“And, er thanks for the wine.”

 “Thanks for, er, coming.”

“Ok, bye Jo. And remember, smoke on the doorstep. It’s not even raining anymore.” David glances up at the dark, foreboding rain clouds overhead. A few drops of rain spatter back down on him.

“I love you, Fi,” he murmurs into the ear of his youngest daughter, as she hugs him again. “I’ll pick you up, Sunday morning.” He glances at Lily one last time, a half look and a slight nod of the head. They wait for him to drive off before filing back up the stairs.

“Shall we open that bottle of white?” Jo asks.

“No,” says Lily, “it would be like drinking toilet water after that last one. I may never drink cheap wine again.” 

“I can stay.” Fiona holds up her hands and jumps into the air. “Give me a cigarette.” Fiona snatches the one Jo is about to light.

“What do you think your mum’s going to say?” Lily asks.

Fiona frowns like she doesn’t understand the question.

“To your dad?”

“Oh,” Fiona thinks for a second, her eyes screwed up against the smoke. “She’ll kill him.”

The knot in Lily’s stomach tightens. “Will you roll us a spliff, Jo?”

“I can’t, Stuart flushed it down the toilet when your dad arrived.” Jo’s aggrieved tone suggests this wasn’t a mutual decision.

“I know,” says Fiona, “let’s have a Christmas party; a proper Christmas dinner. Today’s Wednesday. Can you believe it’s only been a week since you kidnapped me? Thanks to you two I’m not bored out of my brain in double chem right now. Let’s have a dinner on Friday. That will give us chance to prepare and recover. Come on. It’s time to celebrate. I’ll cook.” She laughs as Stuart pulls a face and puts her arms around him. “Obviously, you may need to guide me a little. I’ll go shopping tomorrow. We can have turkey and those little sausages with bacon wrapped round them. Oh and chocolate log. I know, let’s get a Christmas tree.”

“I’ll come with you,” says Jo. “This is the first year since I was about twelve that I can afford Christmas presents. What about you, Lil?”

“No, count me out,” says Lily. “I hate Christmas shopping. Besides I need some time alone.” Jo raises an eyebrow. “Just, you know…” Lily doesn’t meet Jo’s eyes. “I need to calm down, I’m all over the place.”

 “What about you?” Fiona asks Stuart, as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her body against him. “If you’re very good you can choose your own Christmas present.”

“I can’t, I’m working the day shift tomorrow.” Stuart puts his hands on Fiona’s hips and pushes her a few inches backwards. “Why don’t you come down for a drink when you’re done shopping?”

The house is in darkness. Ruth opens the door and steps inside, stooping to take off her brand new Italian shoes as soon as she crosses the threshold. Even in the gloom, she can see that blood from her heel has seeped into the stitching. She throws them both in the waste paper basket in the hall, before turning right into the dining room and switching on the light. At the drinks counter in the corner, she pours herself a double gin and tonic and then continues through to the kitchen.

“Oh!” She flicks a switch and the kitchen is illuminated, revealing David, wearing his coat and sitting at the table. “You frightened me. What are you doing sitting in the dark?”

“Hello, Ruth.”

“What’s happened? Don’t tell me you’ve had another row.” She opens the freezer and takes out a tray of ice cubes.

“No. It’s… it’s rather a long story.”

The ice cubes splash into the gin. “Go on then, let’s hear it.”

“Would you like me to run you a bath?”

“Story first I think.”

He stands up and moves to put the breakfast counter between them, before turning to face her. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you before, but I have another daughter. I’d never met her until today.” 

Ruth looks at him as though he’s speaking a foreign language. The gin and tonic remains in her hand, halfway between the counter and her lips.

“A few weeks ago, she, my daughter, tracked me down, through a Missing Persons service. I told them I didn’t want any contact, so she, er, kidnapped Fiona and demanded a ransom, which I paid. But now Fiona knows she’s got a sister, a half-sister, and she’s refusing to come home until I tell you the truth.”

Ruth appears frozen. The glass still hasn’t moved. David’s neck starts to itch. “Because she wants Lily to be included in our family.”

“Lily? I’m sorry, who’s Lily?” Her voice is cold, as frozen as the ice cubes on the counter.

“My daughter,” he says. “My eldest daughter.”

Ruth coughs to clear her throat. She raises the glass to her lips and drinks the entire contents without pause. “Get me another drink, would you darling, a large one.”

He takes the glass from her and hurries from the room. The moment she is alone she grabs hold of the counter to steady herself, and then turns towards the sink, as her stomach threatens to throw its contents onto the hand-quarried slate she had imported from Argentina. She holds her hair back from her face and then splashes some cold water on her face.

David re-enters the kitchen bearing another gin. She straightens her shoulders, turns to face him, and takes the glass from his hand. “Cheers. Aren’t you joining me?”

He shakes his head, resumes his position on the other side of the breakfast counter, and waits for her to speak.

She takes a sip of gin, savouring the taste of it on her tongue, before swallowing. “Is this a joke? If it is, it’s remarkably ill-timed, darling.”

“It’s not a joke.”

“Is she illegitimate?”

He starts to nod his head and then says, “Actually, no. I was married before I met you.”

“You were married before you met me,” Ruth echoes. “That is interesting. And where is your first wife now?”

“She’s, er, she’s dead.”

“My commiserations. You were widowed?”

“It’s complicated. She didn’t die while we were married.”

“She didn’t die while you were married. So, were you also divorced before you met me?”

“Yes.” He grimaces. “Well, nearly. I was divorced after I met you.”

“After you met me, but before we were married?”

“I-”

“Does anyone else know of her existence?”

“Well, my parents, obviously, Sue and Norman-”

She shudders and holds up one hand. “I meant friends or colleagues?”

He shakes his head.

“And you’ve had no contact with her, your daughter?” she asks as she makes mock inverted comma gestures with her fingers, glass of gin still in her hand.

“None, until this week.”

“Or your first wife?”

“Absolutely none. I didn’t even know she was dead.”

“You didn’t know she was dead. How strange, because I didn’t know she was alive.”

“I am sorry.”

Ruth holds up a hand again, a policewoman stopping traffic. “Have you ever taken a paternity test?”

“No.”

“Acknowledged the child in any way?”

Wrinkles appear on David’s brow.

“In writing?” Ruth clarifies.

“No.”

“Is your name on the birth certificate?”