I follow Dad down the hall and into the kitchen, where he closes the door behind him. There are several empty beer bottles on the worktop. Looks like he started the party early.
‘Look,’ he begins. ‘I can explain—’
‘Explain what? That you lied to her about what a brilliant dad you are, so she’d go out with you? Or explain why I didn’t actually receive anything from you for passing my exams. Ed got a bloody car; I didn’t even get a card.’
‘It wasn’t quite like that, but yes, I’m sorry– I should have sent you something. That’s why I wanted you over. To celebrate! Your exams, uni, my new flat.’
‘Why on earth would I celebrate your new flat?’ I ask. ‘We’ve lived in that pokey house for years, with the broken front door and the damp in the bathroom. Maybe you left all that behind, but we didn’t. You left us in the shit, so don’t fucking expect me to be happy for you.’
‘Katie, don’t speak to me like that.’
‘Six months before you got in touch!’ I exclaim. ‘You vanished and I didn’t hear from you for six months, but I still came to see you because you’re my dad. And now we’re two years down the line and I rarely hear from you, except for the odd pissed phone call or text message when you remember that I exist!’
‘Keep your voice down.’
‘Why? In case your girlfriend finds out what a fraud you are? Enjoy the flat, enjoy your booze and your midlife crisis or whatever the hell is going on here. I’m leaving.’
I open the kitchen door and see Ed standing there with my jacket.
‘You’re just like your mother,’ Dad mutters, opening another bottle.
‘Well, it’s better than being like you,’ I reply. ‘At least Mum hasfound someone who won’t drink all his money away.’
‘Your mum’s seeing someone?’
‘Bye, Dad.’
Ed follows me out of the flat, into the lift and I manage to make it three floors down before I start to cry. I’m so angry and upset. The absolute nerve of the man.
2010
Kate
‘I swear, Gubba, she’s about my age. She had a belly ring and everything. He’s utterly ridiculous.’
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve vented to Gubba in her kitchen. The lemon room with the bright white net curtains and the three weird flying ducks on the wall is my safe space. She’s heard it all over the years from school problems, Ed worries, fights with my mum– everything. I’m very lucky to have her.
Gubba clicks on the kettle to make our second pot of tea. She’s just had her hair done and it looks really nice– like a little white cloud on top of her head. She stopped colouring it a few years ago and just let her grey hair grow in. I must admit, I miss her red hair. It’s funny how the red gene skipped Mum but landed squarely on my head.
‘You know your grandpa was your dad’s age when I met him. I was a couple of years older than you are now, so it’s not that unusual.’
‘This is completely different,’ I insist. ‘Grandpa didn’t have a daughter almost the same age!’
‘True,’ Gubba says, hand on hip. ‘It is a little strange, but your dad has always had an eye for the younger ladies. They’re probably the only ones who will put up with his nonsense. Does your mum know about Jane?’
I nod. ‘She just laughed and called him a cradle snatcher, but she must be angry, surely?’
‘Why?’
‘You know, being replaced by a younger model. . .’
Gubba pops the tea cosy on the pot and brings it to the table. ‘Oh, your mum is tougher than that. Besides, she hasn’t been replaced. There’s no great love story here. He’s just latched on to yet another idiot who finds him charming. It won’t last; it never does.’
‘I guess so.’ I take a Kit Kat and snap it in two. Gubba always has the best biscuits.
‘And don’t forget, your mother was once that idiot,’ she continues. ‘I know he’s your dad, lovey, and while he might be making more money now, he’s no prize. Your mum knows this, and I think he probably does, too. That’s why he’s trying so hard to impress everyone.’
I dunk my Kit Kat into my tea and sigh.
