She went quiet then, still not relinquishing her grip as she stared at him. ‘And what of the whores you’ve been with? Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing all these years? While I’ve been studying and making a life for myself?’
Alexandra didn’t see the slap coming. Her father had always had a quick temper, but he’d never struck her before. His palm hit her cheek with such force, she felt as if all her teeth might rattle from her jaw, recoiling as he glared down at her.
‘I hate you,’ she spat at him. ‘I hate you with every fibre in my body. The way you’ve disrespected my mother, the way you discarded me like unwanted goods until you needed me again. I despise your very existence.’
‘How dare you speak to your father in that way!’
‘Father?’ she laughed, wiping at her lip as she realised it was bleeding, the metallic taste taking her by surprise. Alexandra looked down at the ring on his little finger and realised that’s why it had hurt so much—it had caught her bottom lip when he’d struck her. ‘You don’t deserve the title offather. It means nothing. I’m only sorry I wasn’t the son you so desperately wanted, the son you’ve spent my entire life wishing you had instead of me!’
He lifted his hand as if to strike her again when a soft voice called out to them, breaking the moment.
‘Please be aware of people watching from their windows. I’d prefer it if you didn’t make a scene.’
Alexandra hadn’t realised she was holding her breath until her father lowered his hand and she exhaled. She stared at him for a moment, still gripping the car door, before slowly turning her head to see where the voice had come from.
‘You must be Alexandra? Your father called ahead.’ She paused. ‘I’m Hope, and this is my home.’
She nodded, studying the woman who was slowly walking towards them. She was dressed in a simple cotton dress with an apron tied around her middle, her hair pulled back into a bun, but it was her smile that Alexandra noticed the most. It was kind, and something about the way she nodded told Alexandra that she wanted to help; the way her eyes seemed to fix on hers as if she knew what her father could be capable of. But she certainly didn’t appear afraid of him.
‘My daughter is being particularly wilful today,’ her father said, taking a step away from her, which allowed her to loosen her hold on the door. Her fingers ached from the grip she’d maintained.
Hope nodded again. ‘Would you mind giving me a moment with your daughter?’ she asked. ‘It would be preferable if we could avoid a scene.’
Alexandra narrowed her gaze and watched her father, saw the way he looked at her with such disgust. Well, she felt the same about him, and she was no longer scared of him knowing it.
‘I’ll take a short walk,’ he said, removing his car keys from the ignition as if he thought she might steal the car. He didn’t even realise that she’d never driven a car before.
‘Alexandra,’ Hope said, quickly coming round to her side of the car and touching her hand. ‘I know this is difficult, and this is no doubt the last place you want to be right now, but what I can tell you is that you will be treated with the respect and dignity you deserve if you walk through the door to my house. And no one will make you stay against your will, not once he’s gone.’
Alexandra was listening, and she slowly let go of the car.
‘Men like your father see women, and particularly unmarried women, as a burden. I have seen countless men like him over the years, and I would much prefer that you were in my care than his.’
‘But I don’t want to give up my baby,’ she whispered, finally breaking, finally saying the words that had been circling in her mind. Alexandra put her hand protectively over her stomach. ‘This isn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet.’
Hope stepped forwards and took Alexandra into her arms, soothing her with her touch and her words. ‘Once you come with me, everything you do will be your decision. Your father will not be allowed to set foot in my home.’ Hope stroked her hair. ‘You’re safe with me, Alexandra.’
She let herself be held, catching her breath and fighting against her tears. She refused to let her father make her cry; refused to be his victim when she knew in her heart that she’d done nothing wrong. When Hope finally let go, smiling down at her with such warmth that it reminded Alexandra of her mother, she knew what she had to do.
‘Can we go now, before he comes back? I don’t want to see him again.’
Hope nodded. ‘Of course we can. I shall deal with your father.’
Alexandra took the two bags she’d packed from the back seat of the car, letting Hope carry one of them as they walked up the path to her home, past the sign that read HOPE’S HOUSE. The front door was red, and Alexandra stopped at it and looked back, as if to give her father one last chance to change his mind. But when she saw him, standing back beside the car again, she realised that she didn’t want to go with him, even if he did. She hadn’t been lying; shedidhate him.
‘Go inside and make us both a cup of tea,’ Hope said. ‘I’ll settle things with your father.’
Alexandra didn’t need any encouragement—she picked up the second bag that Hope had set down and took them both in, leaving them neatly at the bottom of the stairs before walking through the house in search of the kitchen. She could hear noises upstairs and guessed they were other young women in the same position as her, so she started to sing softly beneath her breath as she found the kitchen and put the water on to boil, not ready to think about where she was or why she was there.
Thankfully Hope didn’t keep her waiting for long, joining her in the kitchen and taking over. She brought a plate of biscuits to the table and Alexandra sat down, curiously watching Hope. She wasn’t entirely certain how old she was, but she guessed she could have been a grandmother, perhaps in her late sixties, perhaps even early seventies.
‘He’s gone,’ Hope eventually said.
‘Until when?’
She gave Alexandra a long look before bringing over her tea and sitting across from her.
‘Apparently he has a marriage arranged for you. For after the baby is born?’
