I grunt out a harsh laugh. “Of course he’d call you about that. And what did you tell him? That it was all fine?”
“See?” My father holds up a hand and gestures to me with a wan smile. “Nothing but judgement. No understanding, not even a bit for your son who’s struggling.”
“Struggling?” I scoff. “YoulikeMia, Dad. You call her your granddaughter. You tell anyone who’ll listen how amazing she is. You were just telling me it’s my job to bleeding well look after her.”
“And that’s true, you should. I like Mia immensely.”
I throw my hand up in frustration. “So why would you be understanding towards Archie for doing that to her?”
“Because I recognise the human condition,” my father says. “And I don’t judge people for their mistakes.”
I laugh out loud, shaking my head. “Oh, fuck off. You don’t judge people for mistakes you’ve made yourself, that’s all. You conveniently sidestep your own shame that way, don’t you? Andthat’swhy Archie came to you over this, because he knew I’dgive him a good fucking bollocking for being a cheating sack of shit. But you?” I wave my hands exaggeratedly in my father’s direction. “You’ll tell him he’s misunderstood, and lost, and that he just needs to think of himself for a minute.Which is a very different tune to the one you were singing in this very club last week. Do you remember?”
My father regards me coolly, his hands still tucked away behind his back.
“Do you remember when you told me Archie’s mistakes were my fault? That I hadn’t raised him with a sense of loyalty or responsibility? That he was useless? Oh, but now it’s all fine, because you and him have bonded over betraying your wives! Fucking stunning work, Dad.”
“Aren’t you even going to try and see things from his perspective?” My father asks.
“And what perspective is that?”
My father sighs heavily, wheeling his tank alongside him to look at the next trophy cabinet.
“You were always so boorish,” my father mutters. “Even as a young lad. Everything was always black and white to you. There was right and wrong, and nothing in between. You made it so Archie felt like he could never set a foot wrong. Like he had to be perfect all the time.”
“Asking him to be loyal to his wife isn’t requiring perfection. It’s basic bloody decency.”
“And if that wife can’t give him children?” My father turns to me, his face full of conviction, and I want to smash his head into a wall all over again. “What then? He’s just supposed to stay with her?”
“Are you being serious right now?” I press my fingertips to my forehead and another disbelieving laugh forces its way out of me. “If he doesn’t want to stay with her, he can get a divorce. He can leave, he can find someone else. I’d never judge him forthat. But all of this?” I swirl my finger around in the air. “All this upset? All this upheaval? All this…betrayal? That’s not, alright, Dad. You know it’s not.”
My father inhales deeply and shrugs. “I’m just saying you should try and see things his way for once. Try and understand him.”
“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you?” I snatch up my briefcase, and fix him with a last glare. “You do not talk to anyone else about this, especially Mia.”
“You don’t think she’d want to know?”
“No.”I regard my father with disgust, disappointment leeching into my veins. “I’ll tell her Archie called you, but you don’t talk to her, do you understand me?”
“Who are you to issue commands like that to me?” My father attempts to draw himself up to his full height, stopped by a short burst of coughs. “I am your father, and-”
“You will not talk to Mia, or you will deal with me.” I turn on my heel, and stride out of the club into the cold and wet parking lot. I slam the car door shut behind me, pounding my fist against the steering wheel with a growl.
Fucking old fool.Fucking miserable old fucking fool.
All those nights my mum sat up alone, smoking one cigarette after another, waiting for my father to come home. I don’t know if she ever knew I’d sit there at the top of the stairs and watch, making sure she was alright, making sure she didn’t get too upset. I’d shush my younger siblings if they woke, calm them down so my mum never had to leave her vigil. Always, always waiting for my dad.
And when he inevitably came home, at 2 or 3 or 4 in the morning, I’d sit outside my siblings’ bedrooms, making sure the violent row downstairs didn’t wake them up. That they wouldn’t hear our mother crying and pleading, trying to understand whyshe wasn’t enough. Why we weren’t enough. Why the family he’d created would never fucking be enough.
I pick up my phone, pulling up the number and hesitating for a second, but then calling it anyway.
It doesn’t ring, as it hasn’t for the past 2 weeks. But Archie’s stupid voicemail message plays, his voice making my rage even more acute. Then there’s the beep.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but whatever’s happened between you and Mia isn’t OK. She deserves better than that. She’s a good woman, Archie. Kids or no kids, she doesn’t deserve this.” I swallow down all the nasty things I want to say, all the names and the put-downs. I shake my head, watching the raindrops lazily roll down the windshield. “I expected better from you.”
I hang up, not knowing what else to say. Or rather, knowing exactly what I want to say, but having the wisdom not to. It’ll just give Archie more fodder.
The engine roars to life, and I tear out of the parking lot.
