AllFreeNovel
Share Us
How must she have felt? He cheated on her, his wife, the mother of his only child.
I pull my jumper sleeve down over my cold hand and wipe my nose.
Is this how Clark feels, too? Does he feel worse, knowing Harold Layton is an evil, murderous bastard?
Clark’s family took everything from me. I can’t defend the part of my father I didn’t know, but his act could never justify murder. It could never pardon Arthur’s deception.
Hatred burns through my veins with each breath I take.
In this moment, I despise my father.
I hate Arthur.
And I want to see the Laytons burn in hell with Caspar Kahn.
“I can’t see you,” I whisper, hoping the wind will carry my words to my father’s grave.
I shift the car into reverse and pull back onto the main road, this time knowing exactly where I’m going.
My tyres crunch on the gravel as I drive up to my mother’s house.
I kill the engine, pull my sleeves over my hands and walk the path I rarely take. I consider the handle of the door then knock.
The shock on my stepsister’s face when she opens the door makes me feel guilty and confirms that I look like absolute shit all at once.
“Hi Anna. Is Mum home?”
“Ah, yeah, sure. Come in. You don’t have to knock, Dayna.”
The house is warm, a stark contrast to my body, and makes me shiver. I stand in the lamp-lit hallway, not knowing what to do or how to behave.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Anna says, leading me along the wood floor towards the smell of something delicious, homey. My stomach churns, and I can’t tell if it’s because I haven’t eaten all day or if it’s because I’m about to come face to face with the past.
“Mum, Pops, Dayna’s here.”
Chantelle, the housemaid, is plating up dinner. My mother is pouring red wine into three glasses and almost drops the bottle when she sees me.
“Hi,” I say, trying a smile, not sure if I manage.
We stand in awkward silence until Richard clears his throat and says, “Dayna, we’re just about to eat. Would you join us?”
I look at the table, set for three, then to Anna and my mum. “I don’t want to intrude.”
My mother crosses the kitchen, looking beautiful in her blouse and tapered trousers. How could he have cheated on her? She lifts my head to face her, and my chin quivers.
She didn’t just leave me. All these years…
“You are never intruding. This is your home whenever you want to be here. Anna, get a placemat, please, darling.”
I smile meekly in thanks at Anna and take a seat next to Richard at the table. I glance around the farmhouse-style kitchen and wonder if I should have been here all my life.
“You look like you could use wine,” Richard says.
I laugh, a short-lived break. “You have no idea.”
We eat spaghetti bolognaise with salad and garlic bread, and I listen to the easy conversation around the table, joining in occasionally. I catch my mother staring at me more than once, but no one mentions my swollen eyes, my bed hair, my lazy clothes or my red nose. They just eat, like a family. A family I never had. A family my father took from me.
Richard tops up my glass, and as much as I want it, I tell him, “I’m driving.”
