She waves them off and moments later, the front door bangs open and shut. ‘Muuuuuum? Daaaaaaad?’ Tilly’s voice echoes through the hallway. ‘Are you here?’
She appears in a flurry of coat being removed and gloves being discarded. Tilly has always filled a room upon arriving anywhere. It’s something Pauline has long admired about her daughter.
‘Dad out?’ she asks and Seb nods.
‘Snooker,’ he replies and Tilly rolls her eyes with affection.
‘Of course! I’m glad he’s immediately found his way straight back into his old routine and old life.’
Pauline makes tea, wondering how she is going to say any of what she has to say. They deserve the truth. She deserves tosayher truth, but those first words . . . that part where she has to start talking . . . it feels like a huge, insurmountable thing.
‘Anyway,’ Tilly says breezily, accepting a steaming cup of tea from her mum and making herself comfortable at the kitchen table. ‘I came over because it turns out trying to get insurance on a watch worth a hundred and fifty-eight grand is really difficult.’ She makes a face. ‘They’re saying it’s going to cost me, like, three grand a year! And I don’t want to be ungrateful but . . . um, no. You know?’ She smiles sweetly at her mum. ‘Unless you think Dad might be up for paying for it?’
Pauline swallows, wondering if Tilly even hears herself. She is already assuming John is the one in charge of all their money. She has slipped straight back into old patterns and old assumptions.
Nothing will change unless Pauline changes them.
‘Tilly, Seb,’ she begins, her voice shaking a little, ‘I want to talk to you both about something important, if it’s OK.’
‘Wuh-oh, sounds serious!’ Tilly says in a jokey voice. ‘You’re not going to say Dad’s been in another car accident, are you?’
Seb snorts at this, though the memory of sitting around this same kitchen table all those months ago, having to tell both her children that their father was dead, will haunt Pauline for the rest of her life. To think that he willingly put her through that – and them! It is all the reminder she needs that she has to say this.
‘No,’ Pauline says carefully. ‘It’s about me and your dad.’ She pauses and Seb – sensing what is coming – reaches over and takes her hand. The gesture undermines Pauline’s bravery and she takes another moment to compose herself. She would rather not cry until everything has been said.
Seb squeezes her hand. ‘Are you splitting up?’ he asks gently and Tilly scoffs.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Sebby!’ she says loudly. ‘Of course they’re not splitting up. They’re very happy together. Dad’s just back from the bloody dead! This is their happily ever after.’
Seb looks at his mum with sad eyes, then turns back to his sister. ‘They’renothappy, Tills. You’d have to be a blind idiot to think that. They haven’t been happy for as long as I can remember.’ He pauses, looking at Pauline searchingly. ‘Or, at least,Mumhasn’t been happy. Maybe Dad was – is – I don’t know.’
He noticed. Why had she always assumed he had no idea? That he was so oblivious? How awful for poor Seb to see his mother so unhappy for all these years. How could she ever have thought he’d be better off that way?
‘Who are you calling a blind idiot?’ Tilly says crossly. ‘You’re talking rubbish. Isn’t he, Mum? It’s rubbish, right? You and Dad are great together. You’re happy. You’re not getting a divorce.’ She says this firmly, like she will brook no argument, but Pauline sits up straighter.
‘I’m sorry, Tilly, but no, it’s not rubbish.’ She clears her throat. ‘And yes, we probably are splitting up.’ She pauses, thinking about Teddy’s plan. ‘Or at least . . . taking some time apart. I haven’t been happy for a long time. Things have been . . . very bad. It’s very difficult for me to talk about, but your father, he . . .’ She swallows, suddenly unsure.
Maybe she should’ve rehearsed this, memorised what to say. Her two children wait, looking at her expectantly.
‘He hasn’t been kind to me,’ she says at last. ‘Over the years, he has been veryunkind. And I didn’t know how to put that into words for a long time. I thought I loved him, and I thought it was normal, the way he behaved. But I understand now that it’s not OK. It was never OK.’
Tilly is getting red in the face. ‘What do you mean? You’re not saying . . .’ She trails off, looking helpless. ‘Are you saying he isn’t a good man? What does that mean, Mum? What are you saying?’
It hurts Pauline’s heart to see her daughter so helpless and uncertain like this. She knows Tilly has always been desperate to win her dad’s approval – to get his attention and his love – but she has to know the truth. She nods slowly. ‘I think he tries to be a good man, Tilly, in his own way. But he’s taken a lot from me. He’s been very controlling and jealous. He built an identity for me and I wasn’t allowed much freedom outside of that.’
Tilly looks like she’s been slapped, while Seb stares down at the table, something like resignation on his face. After a moment Tilly shuffles her chair closer to Pauline. ‘OK, yeah, I know Dad can be a bit jealous – we’ve all seen that – but are you saying he’s been, like . . .’ She searches for the word, continuing in a whisper, ‘Are you saying he’s been . . . abusive?’
Pauline bites her lip as horrible silence fills the room. That word has so much power, so many connotations, and even knowing it’s true, she finds she can’t say it out loud.
Tilly grabs her mother’s hand. ‘Please say you don’t mean that!’ she cries desperately.
Seb wheels around in his seat, his expression angry. ‘Tills, you claim to be the biggest feminist around!’ he says accusingly. ‘Why are you in denial about this? When it’s someone you know, something that affects you personally? Why aren’t youlistening?’
‘But we would’ve seen it, wouldn’t we?’ Tilly’s voice is high pitched. ‘I would’ve known! I would’ve been able to tell if my dad was a bad guy. He’s always been there for us! For me! Hecame on the roller coaster ride!’ Her eyes are wild, but Pauline can see the tears under there, waiting. She’s desperately holding them back. ‘He came to the theme park that day and he went on that ride with me even though he was terrified and it made him sick!’ She waves her wrist, the watch glinting in the light. ‘He bought me this!’
‘People can be more than one thing, Tilly!’ Seb yells. ‘And one bloody day of being nice on a roller coaster doesn’t make for a good dad! I can’t remember him ever being anything but distant and cold with me. Andmean! Mostly to Mum, but he wasn’t exactly Danny Tanner to us, was he?’
‘Who the hell is Danny Tanner?’ Tilly is flummoxed.
