Page 20 of The Lies
Blake pours me a glass and we both sit ourselves down in his living room with Little Mix filling our ears.
“DAD, have you seen my purple top?” Sinead shouts as she comes running down the stairs.
“No I…What the hell? You are not going out looking like that, Sinead,” Blake warns, making me look over the back of the sofa to see what’s going on.
My eyes run over Sinead I can see why Blake has an issue. She has on a pair of hot pants, her top is way too see through to not have a vest underneath, and her face is plastered in make up—and Imeanplastered. She’s orange with panda eyes.
“Dad, don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not. You need to go and sort that mess out right now,” Blake says harshly.
I watch as they stare each other out before Sinead’s chin starts to wobble.
“Sinead,” Blake warns and her response is to run out of the room, leaving the sounds of her sobs behind.
“Shite,” he mutters, running his hands though his hair. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh but what the fuck was that? She’s my baby girl, she shouldn’t look like that.” He looks totally defeated as he necks the rest of his wine and falls back on to the sofa. I feel for him because watching your daughter become a woman must be hard for every father.
“I’ll go and sort her out,” I say, getting up.
“You don’t have to. I’ll go an apologise and try to help her.”
“No offense, but I don’t think you’re going to be much help right now.”
Blake lets out a huge breath. “I fucking hate this. I try so hard to be what she needs but the older she gets, the harder it is to be a mother and a father.”
“You’re doing an incredible job, Blake. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
I walk out the room, wondering what the hell I’ve just offered to do. I have no idea where to even start with what I’m about to have to deal with.
I almost turn around and give up before I’ve started when I knock on Sinead’s door and get told to go away, but I square my shoulders and try again. I will not be beaten by an twelve-year-old with terrible make up.
“Sinead, it’s me. Can I come in?”
I hear some movement inside but there’s no answer.
“Please, Sinead.”
Eventually, I hear light footsteps getting closer to the door before it slowly opens and her tear-stained face peeks through the gap. I can only presume she wanted to see if I was alone, because as soon as she sees it’s just me, she opens it wider to allow me in.
“Your dad didn’t mean what he just said, Sinead, you just took him by surprise. I know it’s hard but you’ll always be his little girl, and sometimes dads don’t like to see their girls growing up.”
“He didn’t need to be so mean about it,” she sniffles.
“No, he didn’t, and he knows he was wrong.” I sit myself on her bed next to her and open my own make up bag that I brought with me. “Here,” I say, handing her a cleansing wipe to remove the make up still left on her face.
“Have you ever had any make up lessons?”
“No.”
“How about I give you some pointers I’ve picked up over the years?”
“Okay.”
“I remember one night when your mum and I were about eight. My mum had fallen asleep on the sofa so we snuck into her bedroom and took her make up, and it wasn’t cheap make up—my mum has a thing for designer labels so it was all expensive stuff. Anyway, we went to town with it. Bright colourful eyes, rosy cheeks and red lips. We thought we looked amazing but my mum freaked out when she came in to check on us after waking up. I’d never seen her go quite so crazy, and all over a little bit of make up. Your nan was called to pick your mum up because she was so mad and I think I was grounded for about a month. I’m pretty sure she’s never forgiven me for it,” I say with a laugh. I had no idea back then how much her collection of designer make up cost but I can only imagine how long she’d saved to be able to buy it now.
“Tell me more about my mum,” Sinead says as I start work on her eye shadow. So I do; I chat about our childhood together and Sinead soaks up every word.
“You’re just like her, you know?”
