Page 5 of Vengeance is Mine

‘Are you all right?’ Mum asked.

I walked into the kitchen with a spare dressing gown wrapped around me. After being sick all over myself, I’d gone upstairs to the bathroom, peeled off my clothes and jumped straight into the shower. I was in there for ages, just letting the hot needles of water rain down on me, numbing the pain. Actually, I didn’t know if I was in pain. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t make sense of anything I’d just been told.

Less than five hours ago, I was eating a shitty curry and flicking through the channels for something decent to watch. I was living in blissful ignorance. Now, suddenly, I was the daughter of one of the most hated men in Britain.

All through my childhood, I’d asked about my dad. Where’s Daddy? Will Daddy be here for Christmas? Why do Charlotte and Jodie and Teresa have a daddy, and I don’t? When I was old enough, Mum had told me what I always believed to be the truth. She had put on an Oscar-winning performance, and I’d fallen for it. I mean, who would lie about getting knocked up after a one-night stand at a party with a complete stranger?

By the time I’d stepped out of the shower, my skin was red from the heat of the water. I’d felt cleaner, but I didn’t feel any better. I’d dried myself and plonked myself down on the toilet lid, still mulling over all the questions running around my mind, wondering which one to ask first. I’d grabbed the dressing gown from the back of the door of my old bedroom and had slowly gone down the stairs. To be honest, I was dreading having to look my mother in the eye.

Mum was standing at the sink, rinsing out the bucket of soapy water she’d used to mop up the sick in the living room. My clothes were whirring around in the washing machine. I hoped they would dry quickly; I wanted to go home.

Mum turned to look at me. Her eyes were wide and full of tears. She seemed to have aged a decade in the past half an hour.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked a second time, and I didn’t answer or move from the doorway.

I shook my head.

‘Is there anything I can do? Or say?’

‘Everything,’ I said, stepping into the kitchen. ‘Have you got any wine?’

‘No. I don’t?—’

‘I didn’t think you did. It turns out you’re full of surprises, though,’ I said, sitting down at the kitchen table with a heavy thud.

‘Would you like me to make you another coffee?’

I nodded. ‘Better make it a strong one.’

‘I think I’ll join you.’

As Mum set about making the coffee, I kept turning to steal glances at her. I had so much respect and admiration for my mum. She’d been a single parent, struggling to run a business and bring up a daughter on her own. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d succeeded. When I was young, all I had wanted was to grow up to be like the strong woman she was.

‘Do you want something to eat?’ Mum asked.

‘Sorry?’ I’d heard her speak but hadn’t heard the words. She repeated the question. ‘No. I don’t think I could eat anything.’ First time for everything.

Mum brought the mugs over to the table, followed by the full biscuit barrel. She sat down at the opposite end of the table and took a sip of the hot drink.

‘Wow. That really is strong. Just what I need,’ she said, giving me an uncomfortable smile. ‘I’m going to have a headache tomorrow.’

I didn’t comment. I looked down into my mug as if it had all the answers I was looking for. Usually when I had something to contemplate, I sought solace in a bottle of wine or three. I doubted coffee would have the same desired effect.

‘Dawn, talk to me,’ Mum pleaded.

It was a while before I looked up. ‘I don’t know where to start.’

‘Tell me how you’re feeling.’

‘If I knew, I would.’

‘Are you mad at me?’

‘Yes. I think I am. Why did you lie to me, Mum? All these years. I can understand you not telling me when I was a child asking where my daddy was, but when I was old enough, you could have sat me down and explained.’

‘I know,’ she said. More tears ran down her cheeks. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and wiped them away. ‘I’ve wrestled with this for so long. Every time I decided to tell you, a voice in my head said I shouldn’t, that you were better off not knowing the truth. Whenever I started to think you had a right to know, the voice would speak louder and… I don’t know.’ She blew her nose, wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Ask me anything. It’s time to reveal the truth now. Ask me anything you want, and I’ll give you an honest answer straight from the heart.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ I asked firmly.

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