“If Ben isn’t here, then where is he? ” The words hung in the air, but I didn’t have an answer. I’d been out there all night, on that step, and I never saw him leave. Not on a ship, not in a storm.
I knew we should have never done it on roller skates. The trouble started in the pub the other day. I tried to apologize, but the words got stuck. I couldn’t go into too much, obviously.
But he kept pushing, asking if the case was ongoing, which really meant no further along. He had this way of making everything feel like my fault, and I was tired of it. He said I was playing at being something I wasn’t. That I couldn’t do my job.
But they’d bite my hand off if I said I wanted to join the force. Still, I couldn’t afford to get into trouble. I couldn’t do anything bad. I was trying to be the good one, the calm one, the one who didn’t let it get to her.
But it was getting to me. He kept likening people to food, one of his little quirks. All tasty, gooey, and oozing. If I were a food, what would I remind you of?
I told him no, not really, can we stop likening each other to foodstuff. He’d been like that all day. I couldn’t believe he was making me tell them all this. We didn’t know all the facts.
We didn’t know for sure. So, I just put two and two together. And I made a mess of it. I found Eva, or at least the trail that led to her.
I shouldn’t have provoked her, not if I wanted to stay safe. But I was feeling better, actually. Proper full-on missing you, that’s what it was. I needed a hobby, something to keep my mind busy.
Tapestry, maybe. It wasn’t an unmanly thing to do. But I wouldn’t dare poke my nose into it. Then it all came out.
The journal. The snooping. The lies about moving to America. He said he never wrote anything that bad, but if they were to find it, he’d have to tell them.
And I knew what that meant. I looked at him, and I saw the anger breaking through. “How did she manage to get into your head so easily, huh? ” he demanded.
I tried to explain that I only ever had his best interests at heart. I was sorry that I dragged Bertie into it. But how else was I supposed to get through to you? We all need our dads.
He wasn’t listening. He called me a snooper, and I defended myself. He said I had a very unfortunate tone for somebody who should be explaining themselves. I should see what she wrote in that diary thing of hers.
I wasn’t saying she did it. But I knew the truth was buried somewhere in those pages, and I was the only one willing to dig it out. The air in the room went cold. He stood there, jaw clenched, eyes burning.
I thought maybe he’d calm down, that we’d find a way back from this. But then he took a step toward me, and I realized he wasn’t going to let it go. “You tell me that,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. I didn’t have an answer.
I just stood there, waiting for the next blow, knowing that whatever came next would change everything.
