“Mum, can you do the knives please?” she asked, trying to get the day back on track as she checked on the turkey resting under the tea towel. Everything was ready.
She was pretty sure these were the best potatoes she’d ever done. Dark brown crispy edges, light brown on the bigger surfaces. Crumbling off in places and cracked open to reveal the soft fluffy flesh of the potato inside.
After she laid the dishes in front of everyone and they all made the appropriate noises about how good it looked without really taking it in, Daisy hit Play on the Mariah CareyMerry Christmasalbum and sat down at her seat.
“Turkey...” Zack said, passing the platter to Dan. Zack was dressed up in a red Christmas onesie that Dan had bought him. Daisy and her mum were wearing dresses, and Dan was still in his pajamas. There really weren’t many other occasions where a big dinner with so much effort gone into it could be greeted by people in such varying states of attire.
“Thank you.”
“Red cabbage...”
There was something in the air but Daisy was trying to ignore it. Christmas always felt a little bit tense. Maybe she was more attuned to it because she’d spent most of the day cooking and stressing about timings and it was actually her who was tense and everyone else was fine.
“Can someone pass Dad’s yummy carrots?” her mum said, holding out her hands.
Zack picked up the carrots, passing them over as Dan started to laugh, lightly at first before getting louder and louder. There was no amusement in his tone and Daisy turned to him, shrinking back as she took in an expression on his face that she’d never seen before. His eyes were blazing, with tiny black pupils shining through. Everyone paused, looking at him.
“What about these?” Dan asked, picking up the bowl of Daisy’s perfect potatoes. “Does anyone wantthese?” he shouted and just as Daisy reached to take them from him he lifted themover his head and flung the bowl of potatoes across the kitchen, the beautiful soft inside of them spraying across her Farrow & Ball Modern Cooking Apple Green wall that she’d painted a year earlier. With a smash, the ceramic bowl scattered across the ground beneath, pieces of china exploding across the kitchen.
“I can’t handle this,” Dan shouted, slamming his hands down on the table. “What the fuck is going on with this family?”
Daisy glanced toward Zack, who was sitting perfectly still. He had seamlessly switched his therapist face on especially for the occasion. The only difference from the sessions she used to have with him was that he was covered in lots of tiny Santa faces.
Daisy’s mum started blinking rapidly, staring at her beloved son.
“Are we all just going to keep pretending, forever? Was anyone ever,evergoing to bring up what a fucking arsehole Dad was? Or were you all waiting for me to do it, like you wait on me foreverything?” He was spitting the words and Daisy felt all the breath leave her body. Dan was so young. She hadn’t known he’d remembered. He’d never mentioned it. Never said a word.
“He fuckingcontrolledyou, Mum,” Dan said, his eyes filling with tears. “He controlled all of us. We weren’t allowed any friends. Didn’t go anywhere. Didn’t do anything. You used to be scared to even leave the house with us in case he found out—scared for years after. And then he fucking died and now, what? He’s a saint? We all just pretend the bad stuff didn’t happen? Why has no one ever spoken about this? Why don’t we speak aboutanything?”
Daisy could feel herself starting to shake as all she could do was stare at the space on the table where the potatoes once sat, thinking about how crispy they’d been. How Dan had thrown the part of the meal she’d been looking forward to the most. How annoying that was, and whether they would judge her if she went and scraped the potatoes off the wall with her fork and started forcing them into her mouth.
“Didyouknow?” Dan asked, his eyes landing on Daisy and pulling her away from the alternate reality she was living, over by the wall. “Because, God, we always talk about how close we are, me and you. Butarewe?”
“Of course we are,” Daisy said, her words struggling to come out. “I just...” She glanced across at her mum who was looking at Daisy, her eyes wide. She was expecting to see panic on her face, but it wasn’t there. It was like she was waiting too. “Yes, I fucking knew,” she said, her voice growing stronger. For some reason she imagined Tom moving to stand beside her the way he did when the bus broke down and a warmth flooded through her body, like a gentle glow. She stretched out her shoulders, space opening up in her chest at one thought of Tom, in this moment. “Dad did awful shit all the time, right up to the day he died. Before he left the house that day, I saw him stand over you and shout into your face that you were worthless. That he wasn’t going to give you any money because you didn’t deserve it. That you were lucky he loved you because no one else would.” Daisy choked on the last words, tears filling her eyes as she glanced across at Zack, who gave a slight nod of his head.
She caught sight of the food sitting on his plate. The cold turkey. The congealing gravy. “I saw you sink to the ground after he left and then I ran upstairs to Dan’s bedroom and I closed the door and I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed my eyes shut and I wished that Dad would disappear. That he would leave us. And then hedid. He died. And deep down I know that wasn’t my fault.” She looked again at Zack. It was him who’d helped her realize that, and she would always be grateful to him for it, whether it was his job or not. “I know I didn’t kill him, but it fucking felt like it. How could I ever say a bad word about him after that?”
Silence rang out across the room, as though someone hadstruck a bell and left it ringing, the pulsating beats of the sound pounding into everyone’s chests.
“I’m sorry,” Dan said, and it was like all the fight had left him. Only the darkness in his eyes remained. The big bags under them. “I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know you knew,” Daisy said, her voice soft.
“Neither did I!” Dan flung his arms out, eyes widening. “Somehow for years I’ve told myself a completely different story of what went on and the fact I was able to do that for so long isterrifying. If that wasn’t real, what else wasn’t? Will I just live the rest of my life like that, making up stories for anything that feels uncomfortable?” He paused, softening his voice. “You have no idea how frightening it is to be confronted with the power of your own mind. At how responsible you are for which version of your life you live.” He tapped at his head with his index finger. “You think you live knowing facts, but none of it is facts. Everything is just whatyoumake of it. All of us create our own realities and now everything in mine is different and I have to live with that. I have to face it.” He rubbed a hand up and down his cheek, his face pale. “It wasn’t fair what he did. And it wasn’t fair that he fucking died and left me to fix it. I was ten. I wasten years old.”
The air was thick as all of them sat there, taking in what Dan had said. No one moved and Daisy’s body tensed, her throat dry. It was almost as though the room itself was holding its breath, waiting, until eventually Daisy stood up and pushed her chair back, the squeak from the leg ringing out, the sound unusually loud.
She walked over to her brother, putting an arm around him.
“It wasn’t fair, I know it wasn’t. I’m sorry.” She held him, the way she used to when their Dad first died, and for all the years before. She put a hand on his head and pressed him to her, his curly hair crushed against her stomach.
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” their mum said, her voice so quiet it cut through the air with a chill. Daisy and Dan turned toward her. “I should have said something. It was just so much easier to forget that part.” Her eyes brimmed with tears as she clenched her firsts together. “To focus on the good bits, because thereweregood bits. And whenever I spoke about them, you both seemed so happy, and I understand why now. I can’t believe I didn’t understand it before. How much we were all lying to ourselves.” The tears spilled out and down her cheeks, but she kept going. “He was mostly a terrible, terrible husband, but he could be a good dad. And I...” She looked at Zack before her eyes landed on Daisy and Dan. “I didn’t want you to think all partners were like him. Because they’re not. I didn’t want you to think it was normal to be around someone who stops you from having friends or tells you how much money you can spend, or makes you feel worthless. Someone who tricks you into being with them until it’s too late and you can’t leave. I just... I wanted to forget it all and I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry.”
A breathlessness flooded through Daisy as her mum’s words formed a cyclone in her mind, spinning and spinning, pulling more and more memories with it. Clara outside the karaoke, telling Daisy that Zack was conning her. Zack’s words about not trusting men. About having a lunch budget and telling Daisy she needed to stay home where she was safe. Pain split through her temples. No. It was different.Hewas different. He didn’t stop her from going places or tell her what to do. He loved her. He gave up everything to be with her. It wasn’t the same thing.
“You both deserve someone who makes you feel the opposite of how your dad made me feel, okay? Who supports you and gives you strength. Someone who loves you for you.” She wiped at her tears as she looked at them, begging them to understand, and there was only one person Daisy could think of. That she couldn’t stop thinking of. Tom.
Tom standing up to her in front of the men on the bus. Tom handing her a pastry, unaware how hungry she was. Tom excited by Daisy’s job. Tom with his camera pointed at her. Tom coming out of the dressing room so ready to laugh at himself to make Martha happy. Tom saying he believed in her.Sophie’s boyfriend, Tom.
