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I shudder, only she and Eagle used to call me by my birth name. “It’s Rosey,” I correct.
“I know I wasn’t the best mum,” I scoff, and she takes a breath, “but I’d like to try and be a better grandmother.”
I feel the tension building in my jaw and I clench my hands under the table. “He doesn’t need you,” I mutter.
“I’m his only other blood relative.”
“Not true,” I snap. “He’s got Mav, Meli, Hadley, and Bea.”
“Bea,” she repeats, laughing. “What is she to him? His stepmother?”
I resent her tone and sit straighter. “She treats him like her grandson. They have a good relationship.”
“But she isn’t that, is she? Her husband knocked you up, so Ollie is the love child of her husband.” She laughs again, and it reminds me of when I was little and she’d sneer at me with contempt.
“Is that why you wanted to meet?” I ask, trying to sound calmer than I am. “To rake up old ground?”
There’s a tightness to her eyes as she responds. “What’s the point? You did what you did, and now, we’re here so . . .”
I press my fingers to my temples and briefly close my eyes. “Oh my god, you still blame me for everything, don’t you?”
“We’re going around in circles. I don’t want to argue with you, Rose. Too much has happened, and I’d like to get to know you and Ollie again. Let’s draw a line under it all.”
I pick at the menu, letting her words sink in. “Not until you say it,” I mutter, glancing at her. “Tell me it wasn’t my fault.”
She sits straighter, jutting out her judgemental chin and pressing her lips together in a firm line. “You want me to lie?”
I slam my hand on the table, taking us both by surprise. “No,” I hiss, “I want you to see that I was just a kid. I want you to admit that I had a shit mum who taught me that my body was only good for one thing. I want you to tell me it wasn’t my fault that a man three times my age came into my bed and that you let him.”
She looks astounded, almost lost for words, as her mouth opens and closes like a goldfish. “We clearly see the past through very different eyes.”
“So, you didn’t tell me to keep my mouth shut and accept it?”
She shakes her head. “Of course not.”
Angry tears spring to my eyes. “Liar,” I whisper. “I remember,” I add. “You were there.”
“When Crow took what was his, I was there. We were all there.”
I shake my head, a stray tear slipping down my cheek. I swipe it away angrily. “No, you were there,” I tell her. “And Crow and Eagle and Ripper. I remember it, Mum. I remember it all.”
“And so do I,” she snaps, leaning closer. “And I remember how you spread your damn legs like the whore I taught you to be.” She glances around to make sure no one is paying attention and it causes another childhood flashback as I stare at her pinched features. “We had a job in that club, that was it. Have sex and keep the men happy. No one had a free ride, Rose. Not even you.”
“I was a kid,” I whisper, more tears falling. I don’t remember the last time I cried, and the feeling makes me sick to my stomach.
“I did you a favour,” she says more calmly. “They were going to take you eventually, anyway, so I stayed with you.”
I almost choke on my tears. “You think you were being a good mum?” I ask. “Staying by my side while theyrapedme?”
“It wasn’t rape, Rose. Crow won the fight, and you were the prize.”
“I never agreed to be the damn prize,” I cry, and people turn to see what the commotion is. I wipe my eyes again. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this,” I mutter, pushing to stand. “Stay away from me and Ollie.”
I step into the fresh air and take some deep breaths. I usually avoid emotion and situations that make me lose it, and between Mum, Ollie, and Albert, I feel my life is spiralling. Taking a seat on a nearby wall, I close my eyes, letting the sun warm my face. I remember the night Eagle ordered Mav and his half-brother, Crow, to fight, announcing the winner would get my virginity. I remember his delighted expression when Mav stormed out after punching Crow. Technically, Mav won, but that’s not how Eagle or Crow saw it. They said Mav walking out didn’t make him the winner, so they took what they wanted against my will while Mum stroked my hair and whispered encouraging words. I shake away the image and re-open my eyes. It’s in the past, where it belongs. I’ve moved on.
Glancing around, my eyes stop on Albert’s car parked across the street in the hotel car park. I frown, wondering why he would be in a cheap hotel. I pull out my mobile and send him a text asking how his day is and what he’s up to.
Minutes later, he replies.
