‘So what?’
‘I didn’t eat properly for months.’
‘Why are you saying this? Why don’t you believe her? She told me everything. There’s a lot she doesn’t want you to know. There is no way she made this up.’
They were keeping secrets from me.
‘What do you mean? You’ve been talking behind my back?’
‘Yes, because you can’t even look at her. She trusts me.’
‘Is there something going on between you and her? You’re not her birth father, maybe –’
‘Fuck you,’ he snarled. ‘Please get out of this house.’
‘What?’
‘Your insinuations are disgusting. Please leave. I don’t want to be around you any more.’
‘I think you’re forgetting that Lucy ismydaughter. And this house was paid for mostly by me.’ I knew these were low blows. We had been through crises before, but these were red lines, and I had crossed all of them. There was a pause.
‘I’m sorry, Jack, I shouldn’t have said any of that.’ I reached out to him, but he backed away.
‘You don’t believe for one second that I have any romantic interest inmydaughter. You’re trying to hurt me. Well, congratulations, it worked. As for you paying for most of this house, what a joke. Your rich daddy paid off the Inchicore house, and you might remember that I strongly objected to moving here. We’re always behind with the mortgage payments. Right now, the bank owns most of this house. And when I tell Lucy that you don’t believe her, who do you think she is going to want as a parent? And who will she want to come home to?’
‘Where am I supposed to go?’
‘You don’t even care about her. I couldn’t give a damn where you go. You’ve always been a liar, from the first moment I met you. Who was it that said, “When people show you who theyare, believe them”? You treat me like an idiot. I have never known what’s going on with you. Even when you’re sober, you’re acting like an alcoholic. It never made sense why you wouldn’t go to Boston, even when that bastard was in prison. You didn’t go for your sister’s wedding or your dad’s funeral. Your mother asked me to persuade you, but you shut me out. When we got together, I thought your recovery was going well, but there’s something not right about you –’
‘Jack, please –’ He did not let me interrupt him.
‘And I can’t trust you to be faithful to me. I can’t trust you to be sober, and you know what? That affects my recovery too. All this drama. I’m two phone calls away from getting a few grams and a bottle of Jameson and I’ve never been more tempted than now, but you know what’s stopping me? Lucy. She needs me. And she needs you, a rape survivor, to be on her side, but you have chosen not to believe her. How can I possibly live with you?’
71
I couldn’t believe that Jack was throwing me out. I might have insisted that he leave, but I knew that, right now, they were allies. Lucy would go with Jack. Why had she always trusted him more than me? Why couldn’t I convince him that our daughter was lying, the way I had convinced him that I was telling the truth?
It was late now, but there was a sliver of blue light visible under the door of Lucy’s room. She had probably taken her iPad to bed. In tears, I went to our room and threw some things into a bag. Instinct made me take my passport. Perhaps a weekend in London or Paris would give everyone time and space to calm down. I knew what I wanted to do, and I knew what I needed to do. I had never bought into the Higher Power beloved of AA, but now I prayed that I would have the strength to make the right decision.
I didn’t say goodbye to Lucy. This was only temporary. I’d probably be back next week. Jack loved me, he wouldn’t stay mad forever. When I came back down to the kitchen, he wasn’t there. The sitting room was empty, but the door to the study was closed and I could see the light was on.
‘Jack?’
‘What?’
‘I’m going now.’
There was a silence. No last-minute reprieve. No promise to get in touch. I closed the front door quietly, got into mycar and reversed out on to the road. I followed street lights, blurred by the rain and my tears. I passed the lit-up gas stations, another tented encampment of homeless people, the endless apartment blocks, the locked-up churches and the pubs and bars, with their inviting signs for beers and liquor in full neon razzle-dazzle.
I drove on to the motorway and then off it at the first exit and returned to the city. I pulled over into a deserted car park and called Nasrin. ‘I’m sorry it’s late, may I come see you?’
She hesitated a moment. ‘Are you in danger of relapsing?’
‘No, it’s not that … look, it’s all right, I promise. I’ll give you a call tomorrow, okay?’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ I tried to keep the wobble out of my voice and hung up quickly, but she must have heard it because she called back immediately. I didn’t answer and then she texted.
