Page 95 of Merrily Ever After
With one final glance at her dad, she walked calmly to the door and opened it.
Merry was still there, thank goodness, looking understandably apprehensive.
‘Let’s start again.’ Emily cringed with embarrassment. ‘Would you like to come in?’
Chapter Thirty-One
Merry
I flinched as the door slammed in my face and lowered the flowers. Behind the door, I could hear Emily calming him down. Her tone was kind but confident. She was so good with him; she knew just what to say and he obviously felt safe with her. I worried that I wouldn’t know what to do.
I set my shoulders back and stood up tall. If Emily could do this, so could I. I wasn’t scared. Well, maybe a bit, but there was no way I was backing out now. If there was even the remotest chance of learning more about my mum, I was going to take it.
My phone buzzed in my bag with a message. It was Cole. He’d driven me here, but we’d agreed that he’d wait downstairs.
Good luck, my darling, I hope it goes well. Remember this is just the first meeting. It might come as a shock to this guy. Don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t turn out as you planned. xx
I sent a quick reply.
So far, it’s not turning out to be the tear-jerking father-daughter reunion I envisaged. He thinks I’m from a cult.
His response came instantly.
It’s his illness talking, try not to take it personally. I love you xx
I managed to text him back that I loved him too when the door opened.
Emily looked harassed and apologetic.
‘Let’s start again,’ she said, blowing a sharp breath out of the side of her mouth which ruffled her fringe. ‘Would you like to come in? Although I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d left after that welcome.’
‘Of course, I wouldn’t leave.’ I gave her a hug. Her shape already felt familiar to me. ‘It’ll take more than being accused of being from a cult to get rid of me.’
Emily grinned. ‘OK. No brainwashing though.’
‘Brainwashing is off the agenda. Understood.’
Emily set her shoulders back and exhaled. ‘Come and meet Dad.’
I followed Emily into the flat, apprehensive about what Ray might accuse me of next.
‘Bloody hell,’ she tutted. ‘He’s fallen asleep.’
I looked at the man sitting at the far end of the room in an armchair, his legs resting on a footstool, and my breath caught. It was the man who’d bought a candle from me on Saturday. We’d met each other, had a conversation, and yet there had not been a flicker of recognition on either side.
I felt Emily’s arm go around me.
‘You’re trembling,’ she said, concerned. ‘Are you OK?’
I nodded. I couldn’t find the words to say that this was something I’d dreamed about all my life, that I’d convinced myself would never happen in a million years. Of course I knew I had a father, but without anything to go on, noname, no clues, I’d trained myself not to hope. And here before me was a man claiming to be my parent. Family. A blood connection to another human being. Every cell of my body tingled and hummed.
I walked slowly towards him, taking in his features, the shock of wiry silver hair, the roughly shaven chin. He looked thin and slight, wrapped up in a huge dressing gown. The man in my memory had been big, with strong arms which had swung me around. A sandy-coloured beard, shoulder-length blonde hair and bright green eyes. A man who crackled with energy. There was little left of the man I remembered; no wonder I hadn’t recognised him.
I shivered and Emily, mistaking my reaction, rushed to close the window. ‘Sorry. It gets a bit fruity in here.’
‘We met on Saturday.’ I looked from him to Emily in disbelief. ‘He came to my stall at the fair. If you hadn’t put us in touch, I’d never have known who he was – who heis.’
His words came back to me.She always smelled nice. Not easy when you’re on the streets.It had been the aroma of Home he’d been referring to. The candle inspired by Mum.
