‘I’d love to see them.’
My muscles tense. He’d have to do a lot more than have a ten-minute chat with me to prove that he was responsible enough to see his grandchildren. I lived in fear as a child at his outbursts and I’ll never put Millie and Rosie through that.
‘Dad, someone sent a message to Jess’s Facebook page. They say that they know what happened to Jess.’
‘I’ve had loads of those. The police don’t want to know.’
All these years, my dad has been forwarding messages to the police too.
‘They take the details and that’s it. As far as they are concerned, Jessica is a closed case and I have to accept that. I was drunk, I fell asleep and I let her fall to her death. I’ve spent too many years blaming everyone else but myself. A part of my recovery is owning my mistakes, which is why I agreed to speak to that reporter. I can’t make up for losing Jess but I can accept my role in her death.’
‘What do you remember from that day, when we got off the boat?’
‘After getting off, your mother led me to the bench. I was so drunk, I could barely stand. I closed my eyes to try and quell the nausea from the drink and the boat, but I fell asleep. It was only for a couple of minutes. When I opened my eyes, Jess was gone and we were so close to the edge. I rummaged around her baby seat. It wasn’t strapped. I couldn’t remember whether your mum had strapped it or whether I had.’
I feel my eyes filling up with tears. ‘Were Mum and me in the ice-cream shop?’
He nodded. ‘You must have been. When your mum came back, she saw me calling up and down but I could barely stand. The police were called but they seemed to take a lifetime to arrive. There was a huge search at the time. Then everyone said that too much time had been spent working on the idea that someone had taken her. CCTV through the town had showed nothing, no stolen babies being carried away. Too much time had been wasted when they should have been looking for her in the sea. The police concluded that Jessica had probably got caught up in rope or net under a boat, before being dragged out to sea. She drowned, Kate. I let my baby drown all because I got drunk after having a stupid argument with your mother.’ He began to sob.
I’ve never seen my dad like this and a part of me wants to go over and hug him. I want to feel like his little Katie again, but I can’t. I blame him and I can’t get that out of my head. I blame him for Jess and my turbulent upbringing. I blame him for making Mum miserable. ‘What did you and Mum argue about?’
‘She didn’t want to go on the boat trip. That’s all it was. She was fed up because I was already half drunk before we got on. My fault. She was right to be angry at me.’
‘I miss Mum.’ I want to tell him how much it hurts that I never came to see her after I left, that I didn’t come because of him. She chose him and his drunken moods over me and I resented that. I shook away the other reason, the one that pointed the finger at me. Maybe my dad was all about facing up to his wrongs but I wasn’t there yet.
‘I miss her, too. I wish she were here now so she could see how much I’ve changed. I am now the husband she deserved but she’s no longer here to see it.’
He places a hand on mine as I weep but I pull it away. Instead I get my phone out of my bag and see that I have a missed call from Damien. A message pings through telling me that he’ll pick up some more milk on his way home and that I don’t have to.
‘What are you going to do about that message?’
‘Not go to the police, that’s for sure. I have to go there, to see for myself if it’s real. I just don’t know when.’ Or how, I forgot that bit. How can I convince Damien that we need to go to Looe? Something about this message feels different, so certain. The message is to the point, not like the others. Besides, the police don’t want to know any more and I can’t let this message go without knowing if it’s real.
‘Don’t do anything dangerous. This person could be some sort of weirdo. Jess is dead, love. Nothing can be gained by going back.’
Tears fall and I can’t stop them. I leave my Dad and run upstairs to the bathroom so that I can sort myself out. I don’t want his love or his tenderness, not now. It doesn’t feel right. I need some space. Slamming the door behind me, I sit on the loo seat and blow my nose. Gazing around, I can see that the bath shines and the sink is clean. I’ve never known my dad to be like he is now. Never.
Hurrying back down, I walk into the kitchen and see him holding my phone and scrolling through photos.
‘Sorry, Katie. I saw your screen saver and I wanted to see what the girls look like now.’
I snatch it back. How dare he invade my privacy like that? He only had to ask. My dad pulls out a small box and in it are some photos. ‘I thought you might like to look at these. You can take them with you. Your mother kept them in the loft and refused to look at them again after that holiday.’
I pick one up and it’s of my mum holding Jess with me tugging on her skirt. ‘Where was this taken?’
‘Outside the cottage where we stayed. Will you come and see me again?’
I grab the box and hurry to the front door. This is all too much.
‘Will you?’ he calls as he catches me up.
I can’t answer that. Glancing back at him as I open the front door, I try to see right through him but I can’t. Can a man like him ever change?
Everything’s closing in on me. I need to get away from this house, from the memories and from him, so I run as fast as I can as he calls after me. No, I won’t be coming back – ever.
SEVEN
NATALIE
