106
The two men sat in silence, breakfast laid out in front of them. Lloyd always made breakfast for his father—tea, soft-boiled eggs, brown toast, day after day—and often he was comforted by the regularity of this routine. Today, however, he was on edge.
He had hardly slept last night. And the night before had been little better. Ever since his exchange with Ceri Harwood at her house, he’d been gripped by a deep feeling of unease. The fact that she had propositioned him sexually was bad enough, but this was just the foreplay to something infinitely more serious and alarming. Rock-solid Ceri Harwood, who had insisted that only good would come of him participating in her scheme to remove the “cancer” of Helen Grace from Southampton Central, was now rocking, personal traumas and professional disappointments colliding in a perfect storm. What a fool he’d been to take her at her word. But she had seemed sosure and as she spoke the road had seemed to open up in front of Lloyd. Taking Helen’s place, he would have been the youngest DI Hampshire Police had ever had—finally he would be able to look his dad in the eye.
He looked up from his untouched breakfast to find Caleb staring at him.
“Are you afraid of me, son?”
“Of course not,” Lloyd replied eagerly, but his response sounded unconvincing.
“Then why won’t you talk to me?”
Lloyd looked down at his plate. There were a million answers to this. Fear that he might not be loved. But how could he say any of this to his dad?
“You’ve been chewing on this work problem for days now. Tell me about it. Perhaps I can help.”
“Dad...”
“Please, son. I don’t like to see my favorite child unhappy.”
Lloyd could feel himself blushing—with embarrassment and shame. It wasn’t right for a parent to talk about favorite children, and it made his feelings of guilt ten times worse. “I’m worried I’ve let you down.”
“You’ve never done that. I may not always show it and I know I push you, but—”
“I’ve betrayed you and betrayed myself.”
The bitterness in his voice was loud and clear. Caleb said nothing, eyeing his son warily, his face full of misgivings.
“I’ve acted unprofessionally... illegally. In pursuit of a higher rank, more prestige. But... I’ve done the wrong thing, Dad. Sacrificed someone else to serve my own ends.”
There it was—out in the open.
“What I did runs contrary to everything you ever taught me... everything I ever wanted to be. And now I can’t look at you.”
Lloyd continued to stare at his plate, expecting admonishment. But to his surprise he felt his father’s rough hand, lifting his chin. He found himself looking into his dad’s weathered face and saw kindness there, not judgment.
“Who did you do it for, son? For me? Or for yourself?”
“It’s the same thing,” Lloyd replied truthfully. Instantly he saw a wave of—what was it? Shame? Regret?—pass across his father’s face.
“Then if you want to blame anyone, blame me,” Caleb said softly.
“This isn’t your doing. It’s down to me.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s me. I’ve always pushed you so hard. I wanted you to be a better man than I was.”
To his shame, Lloyd felt his eyes fill with tears. “What do you mean? You’re the best man I know.”
“Don’t say that.” Caleb’s voice shook as he said this. But was it anger or something else making it shake?
“I know you have always looked up to me, Lloyd,” he continued slowly, “and I love you for that. But I have only been hard on you, expected so much of you, because of what I was.”
“You worked every day to provide for us. Broke your health, your body—”
“It wasn’t work that broke me,” he said, silencing Lloyd. “It wasn’t work.”
“Then what?” Lloyd asked, suddenly uncertain and unnerved.
