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We will all have got the email. Me, Tristan, Mina, Lydia. Surely one of us read it?
Tristan wouldn’t have. Maybe Lydia did. Maybe she knew this whole time.
‘My email was deleted. And…’
‘And?’ says Father.
‘And,’ I start with great purpose, but I can’t say I’m suspicious about why I lost my job because I haven’t told them I’ve lost my job, and I can’t tell them about the photo because it’s just another thing for Father to chalk up against Dan and I haven’t even decided what I’m going to do about that yet, and the stomach problems were probably just a sickness, and everyone gets their cards stolen these days and…
Father smiles.
‘And someone keyed my car.’
‘The turtle?’ It’s what he calls my Mini. He sighs. ‘How much is that going to cost me?’
I clench my fists. But he bought me the car. He won’t let me pay for anything to do with it. I mustn’t be ungrateful.
‘Father, I have to call the police.’
Father rolls his eyes.
‘Is there… How should I handle everything, with Georgia?’
‘A conversation that might best wait until your brother is in residence?’
I nod and squeeze the back of the chair. ‘But I don’t know when he’ll be home – Theo said they might not make it to dinner. I can’t wait.’ I shake my head. ‘Ava, Ash, what’s Miss Smith like?’
‘I’m not sure how your brother would feel about your discussing her with his children,’ says Father.
I feel myself colouring again. ‘No, right, of course.’ I look at my watch. Ten past eight. My stomach churns like I’m lying in the hull of a boat in a storm.
My daughter is gone. No one has seen her since lunch. Never in her whole life have I not known where she is. I press my hand to my mouth to stop myself from being sick.
Father snorts.
‘I’m calling the police.’
But Father pins me with his stare. ‘Frances, the police are not a subtle agency. Do we need them traipsing through our home right now when your daughter is going to turn up in a couple of hours?’
By ‘right now’ he means during my brother’s campaign. He’s trying to move into a more prominent position in government. The timing isn’t good.
‘The girl just wants attention. My advice would be not to give it to her.’
Of course that’s his advice. Her whole life he’s done his best to ignore her.
That’s true, isn’t it?
Because she was born out of wedlock. Because my daughter is a bastard and he’s never met her father.
My chair barks against the flagstones as I let go and walk out the door. Then I shout as I slam into something in the dark hallway.
31
NOW
‘Fran?’ It’s Tristan.
I sag into his arms. My head is full of Jenna’s big, hopeful eyes as she held her little arms up and said, ‘Cawwoo,’ which she said instead of ‘carry’ till she was nearly three, and it takes a moment to remember the full context of this situation. I can’t imagine how my brother is feeling after hearing Georgia’s back. It can’t be nice to have to think about all of that again.
