Which was why they were here in town having coffee and cake together. Obviously, Cassie was meddling, but that’s what agood mother did. Meddling was one hundred per cent part of the job description. It was how you protected your daughter.
‘I just don’t get you,’ Emily said, looking up from her latte, ‘I’d have thought, given how much you hated him, you’d be only too happy to discover my father was an abusive husband.’
Ignoring the jibe, Cassie said, ‘I know you’re very fond of Rosalyn, but what if she’s made stuff up? What evidence do we really have that your father did any of those things she claimed he did?’
‘Yeah right, wasn’t that what MeToo was all about, women coming forward and actually being believed?’
‘Absolutely. But hand on heart, Ems, I never once experienced any kind of coercive behaviour when I was with Drew.’
‘You said he lied to you. You said he tried to make you believe you were imagining that he was seeing other women. Isn’t that coercive behaviour?’
‘Well, yes, but … but look, he was no saint, and he often lied to cover his tracks when he was with another woman, but I never felt threatened by him. That’s quite a different matter.’
‘Maybe he changed,’ Emily said flatly.
How many times had she said that in defence of her father when Cassie had been so tempted to say that leopards couldn’t change their spots. Now Emily was using it to condemn her father.
‘Women generally have an instinct,’ Cassie said warily, ‘did you ever feel uncomfortable around your dad? Did you ever witness him saying or doing something which you thought was out of order?’
‘No,’ Emily said. ‘But abusive men are calculating, aren’t they?’
Cassie tried another tack. ‘You must admit that it does seem odd that Rosalyn is now sharing online on all her platforms how coercive Drew was and that she hated living the lie she’d put across to her followers.’
Odd was putting it mildly. Cassie had been disgusted watching Rosalyn’s posts. There she was with her flawless make-up and her eyes enlarged with false eyelashes and smudgy eyeliner, pouring out her heart in a breathless little girl’s voice.‘You need to know it wasn’t what I wanted to post, but he made me do it. He wanted everyone to see what a perfect dream life we had. And all the time it was a nightmare, and I couldn’t tell anyone. I hope you can forgive me for lying to you.’
The support that followed her posts was instant and quickly grew and with each new post of Rosalyn claiming she’d been gaslit or forced to do things she didn’t want to do, Cassie was ever more convinced that Rosalyn was lying, and playing yet another role. Never would Cassie have imagined that she would want to defend her ex-husband, but a dead man unable to defend himself just didn’t seem right.
Not all the online replies were positive. Men, probably pathetic and angry incels, had been quick to weigh in, telling Rosalyn she undoubtedly deserved what she’d got, that she was just another freeloading bitch who’d had it coming.
Such was the volume of responses to the posts, Cassie had wasted hours scrolling through the comments, but it was a needle-in-a-haystack task. What she was searching for was someone who knew Drew personally and who was prepared to call Rosalyn out for lying.
In answer to Cassie’s question, and after finishing her latte, Emily said, ‘It’s not that odd what Rosalyn’s doing; people are used to living their lives online, it’s as natural as breathing. It’s not like it was back in your day.’
Cassie smiled. ‘Make me feel a hundred and ten, why don’t you, and here I am convincing myself that forty is the new thirty!’
Emily smiled faintly too. It was the first time Cassie had seen her look anything but completely miserable in the last nine days. ‘You’re okay, Mum, don’t stress it.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, thanks.’
For a few moments Emily stared out of the window and Cassie followed the direction of her gaze. Directly opposite the coffee shop was King’s College and through a parting in the gunmetal-grey sky, a shaft of brilliantly radiant light shone like a laser beam on the magnificent old building, giving it an unworldly appearance. ‘If Rosalyn is lying,’ Emily said, turning to look at Cassie, ‘or exaggerating, how do you explain what Finlay said about Dad throwing him in the swimming pool to punish him?’
‘I don’t know, not for sure,’ Cassie said, ‘but when I think back to what Finlay told me, he didn’t actually say the words “Daddy threw me in the pool”. He said something about it being a secret and that Daddy would be cross if he told anyone.’
‘Wait, you’re now saying you misinterpreted what Finlay said?’
Cassie shook her head. ‘Not exactly. But look at it this way, a child can be very easily manipulated. What if it had been a game Drew was playing with Finlay and then Rosalyn twisted it round to make it seem like it was a punishment that Drew had carried out? Cleverly done, a small child can be convinced black is white and white is black. And, what if it was Rosalyn who threw Finlay into the swimming pool as a punishment and told him he mustn’t ever tell Daddy about it because Daddy would be cross, not with Finlay, but with her?’
Frowning, Emily said, ‘I can’t believe you of all people would be standing up for a man you’ve hated ever since I was a baby.’
‘I can’t believe it either,’ responded Cassie. And because Emily seemed receptive, she told her about her theory that maybe Rosalyn had a narcissistic personality disorder.
The frown deepening on her face, Emily said, ‘Why are you so bothered about disproving Rosalyn? Why would you care?’
‘I care because Drew was your father, and he mattered to you.’
Emily picked up her napkin and began tearing bits off it.
Cassie watched her. ‘Ems,’ she said, ‘can you think of anyone back in Dubai who knew your father well and who might be prepared to dispute Rosalyn’s claims?’
