Page 69 of Forgive Me Not
And yet… poor Mum. Things must have been so bad for him to leave. What had he done? And these were just words – he’d never actually bothered to come and visit his daughter.
She pushed the envelopes away. Gail had provided more than enough love. She didn’t need a long-distance father.
And yet… if Gail had given Emma these cards years ago, she might have felt better about herself and been in a good job now, or married with kids.
She closed her eyes, breathed deeply and tried to take control of her indignant thoughts. Yet they continued to buzz through her mind as if it housed a disturbed bees’ nest. All the questions friends had asked her at primary school about her absent dad – with this contact at least she could have talked about him living in France and sending her cards.
An intensely hot sensation gushed into her chest and her face screwed up as she skipped ahead to the last card. Inside this one was a letter – addressed to EmmaandGail.
Emma – I feel I should explain why I left and why I have never come back to England. When I knew your mother, I had a lot of… anger problems. I wasn’t a well man. My own childhood had been difficult. My father treated me and my siblings badly. Yet that is no excuse for the way I treated Gail. If things didn’t go my way, I am ashamed to say I coped by using my fists. I feel you need to know this so that you understand why your mother sent me away. I hit her, you see, and… I even hit Andrea once. On that occasion Gail said if I didn’t move out of your lives immediately, she would call the police.
I was a coward – instead of taking my punishment; instead of getting help and trying to work things out, I took the first plane to Paris. But I never got over losing you, Emma. Not seeing you grow up eventually pushed me to get help.
Gail – I loved you. You deserved better. I hope you are happy now.
After treatment I met a kind woman – Michelle – and we have a son. He knows about you, Emma. Like me, one day he hopes you will get in touch.
As always, I have put my address above, but no pressure. The most important thing is that you do what is best for yourself.
Happy eighteenth. I have no doubt that, growing up under Gail’s care, you have matured into a wonderful woman.
Good luck with your life.
And never forget, the past doesn’t have to define the future.
Papa/Jean-Claude
A solitary tear rolled down Emma’s cheek and she sat in silence with her thoughts. Before long, plump globules of bitterness streamed down her face. She threw away the note. It landed on the floor. Eighteen envelopes. That was all she had to show for a father.
As for what he’d done… She’d always known her mum was strong, but this… Her fists curled. And how could he have hit Andrea?
She went downstairs and made a hot chocolate but ended up pouring it down the sink. She switched on the TV but couldn’t concentrate on anything. She threw on her anorak and headed outside.
It felt strange not to see Stig and the Duchess asleep on the pavement. She breathed in the cool night air, took it down into her lungs, but it didn’t extinguish the anger that had flooded her chest. Anger at Jean-Claude and, even though she tried to fight it, anger rising again at Gail for hiding his contact. She slumped to the ground.
Every year, on Emma’s birthday, Mum had received one of these cards but had said nothing. She must have raced to the letter box after the postman visited and dashed upstairs to hide it.
All along, Emma had had a father who’d cared. So, he’d made mistakes… but who hadn’t?
Mistakes? He physically abused your mum. And hit your sister.
But why hadn’t they ever told her about his violence?
On the one hand, he was even worse than she’d imagined. Not only had he deserted a newborn child and her mother, he was also a wife- and child-beater. Yet the cards suggested he’d turned his life around. He was sorry. Had met another woman. Brought up a son who wanted to meet Emma.
A whole gamut of emotions played her body like an out-of-tune fiddle.
She went back indoors and up to her room. She shoved the envelopes into her rucksack, turned out the light and lay on her front. Perhaps darkness would take the discontent away. Yet hours passed without a minute of sleep. She had so many questions. How had her parents met? When exactly had things started to go wrong? Was the pregnancy planned? Had he been happy when he heard the news? Was Mum worried that Emma would head over to France and leave her if she found out where he was? Or were the memories too raw to talk about, so hiding all contact made things easier?
Eventually she nodded off, eyes red, her last thoughts flirting with the idea that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a small drink tomorrow. That maybe she deserved one. Just for the shock.
Chapter 24
Emma left the pet shop early the next day. On her way up Broadgrass Hill, she didn’t admire the cerulean sky. The morning chorus annoyed her, and she pulled a face at the pungent smell of manure. With irritation she batted away an errant bumblebee. As she walked up the drive to the farm, she kicked a lump of apple no doubt dropped by a bird. She headed straight past Stig with the merest nod of greeting, and set about cleaning the outside of the greenhouse.
Andrea and Bligh went about their business without talking to her, and for once she was glad. After a couple of hours, Stig brought her a cup of tea, and she grunted her thanks before returning to the job in hand. After she’d finished and had a wash, Andrea asked if she could look after Gail for a few hours. She and Bligh had some work to do on the farm’s website – something about a glitch with the payment system. Emma gave an abrupt up and down of her head.
Baking always made things better, so she decided she and Gail would make cookies. She started off creaming the sugar and butter and then let Gail take over when the mixture felt light. Humming, her mum didn’t seem aware of her daughter’s silence. Andrea, however, left the dining room and came into the kitchen with a quizzical look on her face.
