‘Howdareyou make me choose?’ he says in a tone of anger I’ve never heard before. ‘You despicable man! I choose Kate over you and I always will! Always!’
‘I expected as much,’ says his father, and Martha leaves the room ahead of us in tears. ‘You’ve always been a stubborn fool, David! You can go now. I won’t be seeing either of you again.’
David pulls me close and kisses my forehead, then leads me out of the parlour, just like I was led out before, but this time, just as before, I stop to get the final word.
‘He’s more of a man than you ever will be,’ I say to his father, unable to bite my tongue before we leave this palatial, miserable house of horrors. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself, Bob Campbell. You don’t even know your own wonderful son and it’s your loss entirely.’
We walk away and I do my best not to let David see me cry, or indeed say I told you so. This is exactly what I feared would happen when we tried to come out in the open. It’s not exactly a good start, but instead of putting me off what we set out to do today, it lights a fire inside of me. I’m ready to take on the world to fight for what we believe in – our right to be together.
DAVID
‘That rotten excuse for a man wouldn’t know the meaning of love if it hit him between the eyes!’ I say as I thump the steering wheel in the car. ‘You know what, I’m fucking glad to have this clean break from him once and for all. He can rot in hell for all I care! I hate him, Kate! I hate my own father!’
‘David, don’t say that,’ Kate pleads, and I pull back, not wanting to upset her any more than she must already be, but my blood is pumping and I need to let off steam. ‘I feel so bad for your mother, though,’ she says. ‘I mean, we didn’t exactly expect a red-carpet welcome from your dad, but she’d put in so much effort.’
I start up the engine in the car and rip through his precious gravel on the way out of the driveway, determined never to darken his door again; he has told me not to do so enough times in my life. I will make plans with my mother soon, different plans. I never want to see his faceor hear his voice like a worm in my ear for the rest of my life. He may have been a good man at one stage of his life, but his power behind the pulpit has turned him in recent years into a hypocrite, a bigot and a bully.
We grab a coffee in a filling station and drive to a nearby beauty spot to sit by the lake so I can compose myself before we go to see Kate’s family.
‘This was meant to be a day of celebration but of course he has ruined it,’ I say, staring out onto the black water where swans float around, looking so peaceful and serene while their feet do all the paddling out of sight. I feel that way sometimes.
‘He has ruined it because you are giving him that power,’ Kate tells me. ‘Don’t let him have that hold on you, David. We both knew today was likely to be difficult so let’s try and accept him for who and what he is to you, and move on. You have to let that grip he has on you go, once and for all. Please let today be that day.’
As always, Kate’s words make perfect sense, but years of having had my whole personality chipped away by the man who brought me into this world sometimes gets under my skin, no matter how much I try to rise above him.
‘Thanks for what you said to him, by the way,’ I say, flashing Kate a smile. ‘I felt like giving you a high-five but refrained.’
She bursts out laughing and leans across in the car to kiss me tenderly.
‘I meant every word,’ she tells me. ‘You’re the best.’
‘OK, I’m ready for round two now. Are you?’ I ask her, my eyes brightening at the ridiculous lengths we have to go to. ‘We will laugh about this one day, I know we will. Your family’s reaction can’t be any more dramatic than old Bob’s, can it?’
‘Who knows?’ says Kate, squeezing my hand with a nervous smile. ‘Let’s just get it all over and done with, yeah?’
We cruise out of the forest park and back out onto the main road into town, where Kate directs me past the memorial at the bomb site, out of the town centre and just a few streets away on the other side, where I steer into a sprawling grey housing estate with rows and rows of terraced pebble-dash houses, streets lined with cars battling for minimal parking space outside. A few kids bounce a ball along the pavement and another rides a bike with both hands up in the air, a sight that makes me have to swerve as he comes speeding towards us.
‘Welcome to Hollywood,’ Kate jokes. ‘I’m a bit nervous now.’
‘Don’t be,’ I tell her, feeling protective and strong now after my own showdown. It’s my turn to be there for her.
We find a parking space by a row of dilapidated, graffiti-clad garages, and Kate leads me across the way to a smart mid-terrace house with window baskets full of spring flowers. A red-and-blue-framed swing sits in the front garden.
‘That swing is almost as old as I am,’ she says, and I put my arm around her just before we go through the black iron garden gate. ‘It mightn’t be the most glamorous set-up, but I have only fond memories of swinging here in this tiny garden.’
‘I love you, Kate,’ I say, kissing her forehead. ‘Let’s do this.’
A long-limbed, wavy-haired teenage girl wearing a tracksuit with a crop top that shows off a pierced belly button greets us at the door just as we make it up the path. I stop on the doorstep, frozen in time.
‘The ice-cream shop boy!’ she exclaims.
It’s Shannon, and before I get a chance to catch my breath at the fact she recognizes me, she bounds towards me and wraps her arms around my waist as Kate looks on with pride.
‘Thank you for helping me to feel safe that day,’ she says, looking up at me with huge tear-filled eyes. ‘I was so scared and alone and I’ve wanted to say that to you for ever.’
She stands up straight and wipes her eyes as black mascara leaves snail trails down her face. I hold my arm out for Kate to join us.
‘And I’ve been looking forward to meeting you again so much too,’ I say to her as flashbacks play in my mind of the little girl crying in the middle of the war-torn street, so frightened and helpless. ‘Kate has told me all about you and I can’t wait to get to know you better at last.’
