“Jesus fucking Christ, Emma!” he roars. “I’ll kill! I’ll fucking kill—”
“Raoul was there,” I interrupt before he goes off on a tangent.
“He was involved? Fuck, Emma, this makes things worse!” He slams a fist into his palm.
“No! He saved me, Daddy. He was being held there, too – they were trying to ransom him. When he saw me fighting them off, he negotiated to get me out, too.” As I say the words, I remember how ungrateful I’d been at the time. The girls there had been my priority, but in hindsight, without Raoul… I can’t even contemplate what my fate would have been.
“He saved ya?” My father looks confused. “But I’m still not understandin’ how you could be up the fuckin’ pipe now! Pregnant? Jesus, Emma.”
“Well, one thing led to another, and… Well, here I am.” I shrug wryly and splay my hands.
“How far?” he asks.
“I’m guessing two months along. It was only the one time, but it was—”
“Stop!” my father throws his hand up. “I don’t want to know the bleedin’ details, luv!” He presses his lips together, then asks, “Do you want to keep it?”
His words take me by surprise. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s asking such a thing or the fact that he’s actually giving me a choice.
“Yes, Daddy,” I say softly. “Yes. More than anything.” My hands are clasped over my belly. Yet again, although I know it’s probably too soon to feel anything, I’m always so convinced I can sense a change there. “And my baby needs a father. Regardless of what you feel about the man, you owe me that…usthat.”
Dad rubs his eyes and then raises my hand to press a kiss against my knuckles. The gesture is so tender that I find myself speechless.
“Of course I do,” he admits. “I’ve been a cunt, lass. A rotten dad. All these years, I’ve…” He heaves a sigh. “I’ve held you at a distance, Em. So hard to see your mum’s eyes shining from your face when she should have been at my side.” His throat works. “I miss her so much.”
“Oh, Daddy.” My voice breaks as I realize how much he must have been hurting. In all these years, my father’s never taken another wife. Never even had a woman in his life that I know of. “I miss her too,” I finally whisper.
“I know,” he says. “And I was too selfish to be the father you needed.”
“How could you? It was all my fault. If only I’d been a boy, she would never—”
“Emma!” my father says sharply, startling me into silence. “Your mother’s death had nothing to do with you. She had complications – preeclampsia, the doctors called it. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine because I was so far up my own ass, I never took time to pay attention to her.” He stops suddenly, frowning down at my hands, then lower, to my feet. “You were dizzy earlier, yeah?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“How often has that happened?”
“What? The dizzy spells. Occasionally. It’s normal, isn’t it?”
What’s he on about?
“Swollen feet and dizziness – they’re common symptoms. Your mother had them, and I had no idea. Until it was too late.” There’s a strange edge of panic in his voice that’s completely unfamiliar to me.
“There’s nothing wrong with my feet. I’m sure I’m fine, Daddy. I read up on healthy pregnancies, and there’s nothing I’m experiencing that isn’t absolutely normal right now.”I hope.
“What does that wop of yours say about all this?” He scowls.
“Daddy, Raoul is your grandchild’s father. You will not refer to him as a dago, or a wop, and especially not a cunt, do you hear me?” I keep my voice level.
“Whatever,” he mutters. “Has he booked you in with a specialist? What are you doing about—”
“I haven’t told him.”
“You haven’t fuckin’ told him?” my father half-yells.
“No!” I yell back. “And I’d like to keep it that way!”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
