But I tell myself I don’t need to feel inadequate anymore. I don’t need to be upset by football.
I reveal that Theo and Callum went to the match yesterday and share Theo’s comments and observations. Dad’s fascinated, his eyebrows raised.
“And how’s it goin’ wi’ the house you’re doin’ up?” asks Debbie, blowing on her tea.
“Yeah, brill, thanks.” I give them a rundown of the improvements, making special mention of the windows for Dad.
“It sounds fantastic,” Debbie comments, sipping from her mug. “Did you say it belonged to your mum’s uncle?”
“Yeah. He was called Wilf.”
Dad runs his hand through his hair, leaving it even more tousled than usual. “You know, I’ve thought about it and I can’t remember her mentionin’ him. Or anyone else in t’ family.”
I fill them in with a summary of Wilf’s story. “So nobody had spoken to him since Mum was very little. But she got in touch with him a few months before she died. I actually found her letters.”
Something shifts in the atmosphere, as if the air has sharpened.
But I’m not backing out now.
I finish my tea and set it down on the little glass-topped table. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Dad.”
Debbie stands up and says she’ll nip out.
“You don’t need to,” I insist.
“No, I need a pint o’ milk from t’ shop,” she says. “It won’t take long. And it’ll give you and your dad a bit of time on your own.”
Dad smiles but I can tell he’s concerned.
“I know how Mum died,” I blurt out, as soon as Debbie’s out of the door. “I read her letters and found out she was seeing another bloke. I phoned Auntie Julie and asked her about it.”
Dad frowns. “We always said we’d protect you from that.”
“To be honest, I didn’t give her much choice. And I’d already found out most of it from the letters.”
I spot what looks like shame scudder across Dad’s face. “Yeah, well, I could tell summat were up. But I didn’t realize it were as bad as that. I didn’t realize she were going to leave me.”
I give a little cough. “Apparently, Mum and this bloke were going to stay with Uncle Wilf.”
Dad tilts his head. “Well, I didn’t know that. Although now you mention it, I do remember she were goin’ to Italy.” He finishes his tea and puts down his mug. “What else did Julie say?”
I draw in a ragged breath. “She told me about the night Mum died. She told me how it happened.”
Dad looks out of the window. “I hope you didn’t find it too upsettin’.”
“I’m glad I found out,” I say, nodding, firmly.
There’s a beat.
I tighten my jaw. “But it must have been upsetting for you.”
Dad’s eyes take him somewhere else. “It were, lad, yeah.”
I don’t want to be cruel but need to push him a little further. “Auntie Julie said you took it hard.”
Dad turns to face me. “Well, if you want to get everything out in t’ open, yeah, I couldn’t cope. I had a breakdown.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and snap them open again. I’m so stunned I can’t think of anything to say. Surely not? Surely not my big, strong, manly dad?
