Charles muttered something inaudible.
Holly trembled with emotion as she spoke. ‘Avril’s your flesh and blood, Dad. As much as Miranda and I are. You can’t hurt her.’
Charles remained frozen to the spot, still not speaking. Meanwhile, Miranda kept looking from Charles to Avril and back again, as if the truth of what she’d learned wouldn’t sink in. Perhaps she should have looked in the mirror, because while Holly and Lewis had taken after their mother, looks-wise, Miranda was more like her father, and there was a clear similarity between her and Avril. It was in the lips and the eyes. The shape of their noses. Not a dead ringer, like Jasmine and Elizabeth, but once it was pointed out, once you knew what to look for, it was obvious.
Avril looked broken. She was almost the same age her mum had been when Charles had taken advantage of Morag. Earliertoday, she had thought she’d lost her biological father, Lewis, a man she’d never really known. Then she had suffered a much greater loss: her mother. And now, here she was, finding out that she had been lied to. This was her father. The man who had just pointed a gun at her.
‘You’re…’ She tried to speak but had to stop because her tongue was too dry to get words out. ‘You’re my dad.’
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that Charles didn’t try to offer her any words of comfort or reassurance. He wouldn’t even look at her. His third daughter. Maybe, I thought, he was afraid that if he allowed himself to connect with her in any way it would make everything too difficult.
Instead of offering any kind of apology, he said, ‘Biologically speaking.’
Avril stared at him and then spat, ‘Nothing more than sperm.’
‘But I’ve acted responsibly,’ he said, finally able to look at her. ‘I paid for your upbringing.’
‘What? You think that was responsible? Giving us just enough to live on while the rest of your kids grew up in luxury?’
‘I think you’ll find I have been extremely generous.’
‘Fuck you,’ Avril said. ‘You’re not my dad. I never had one.’
But even though her words made me want to cheer her on, there was a wobble in her voice, betraying that she cared. How could she not?
And then, suddenly, Miranda rounded on Charles.
‘How could you?’ Her voice rose. ‘Howcouldyou?’ She jabbed a finger at Holly. ‘And you. You knew all this time? And kept it secret from me?’
Charles moved towards her. ‘Miranda, calm down.’
‘No! I won’t. Men are always telling me to calm down, and I am sick of it! Especially a man who left his house while hiswife, our mum, was dying and… and went out and fucked a seventeen-year-old. Mum had months left to live. Couldn’t you have waited?’ She screamed it at him.
‘Miranda …’
‘Do not say my name.’ Her voice cracked with emotion. ‘Our mum, our beautiful mum, was lying in her bed, too sick to celebrate New Year, and I was sitting with her, looking after her, and do you know what she said, what she said to me and Holly?Family is everything.She made us promise to look after you, to keep the family together. And all the time, you were betraying her. Betraying all of us. An old man, screwing a girl.’
‘I wasn’t old.’
‘Was it the first time? Or were you and Morag already carrying on? Sneaking around all the time we were here? Huh?’
His lip curled, anger turning his face pink. ‘I don’t have to answer to you.’
She jabbed a finger in his face. ‘Oh, you do. You really do. Were you having an affair with her?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. It was just the one time.’
‘But that was enough. Once was fucking enough.’
Miranda raked her face with her fingernails, so hard it left marks on her cheeks. Her husband lay dead a few feet away, and she had barely reacted to that. But this… I had seen Miranda express fury before. She had almost attacked Jasmine. Had been twisted up with hatred. But this was deeper than hatred, stronger than anger.
‘Let me guess. You told Morag how sad you were. Did you cry crocodile tears? Make her feel sorry for you? Or did you use a different ploy? Did you tell her how excited you were about transforming the manor house into an arts centre? Ask her about her dreams of being a writer and tell her how useful the arts centre would be for her? I bet you told her youwould personally ensure she got the best tutoring. Made her promises. Made her think you were going to help her achieve this glorious future.’ She sucked in a breath, which she used to hiss at him. ‘But you were just another middle-aged man trying to get into a young woman’s pants. Not just with your promises but your whole fucking sob story.’
Charles, who had actually appeared cowed beneath Miranda’s vocal onslaught, slowly lifted his head. ‘It wasn’t like that. Iwashurting.’
‘Not as much as this hurts, right now.’ Something struck her. ‘That boy, Morag’s brother. Jimmy. Did you kill him, too? Did he see you screwing his sister?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t know anything about that.’
