Grace I just wanted to make things up with you. I know you want to go your own way and be independent and we both totally support you on that. That’s fine. I just wanted to let you know that we’re both still here for you, whenever you need it, for anything at all. OK? Love D x

I read the message a couple of times, half expecting to find some hidden barbs in there somewhere, but this seems to be from the heart. It’s unlike Dad to back down like this, so it’s clear to me that Mum’s had a say in things. I note that he hasn’t actually apologised for what happened, though.

I take a few minutes to compose my reply before sending it.

Thank you. I appreciate that, and will let you know if I need anything but I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Did you also mean to add that you were sorry for punching Tom?

I hope that doesn’t sound too inflammatory, but at the same time I want to make it clear that Boxing Day wasn’t just a flash in the pan and that I’m serious about wanting to be independent and make my own decisions. I need to show some strength and resilience of my own.

Tom stirs beside me, realising I’m already awake. ‘Morning,’ he says.

‘Morning.’

‘Everything okay?’

I hand him my phone, watching him peer at the screen as he adjusts his eyes to the brightness.

‘Blimey,’ he says. ‘Bet you weren’t expecting that.’

‘Yes and no.’

‘Thoughts?’

I take a deep breath and let it out. ‘I dunno. He’s clearly trying to do the right thing, but I’m not entirely sure he’s going about it the right way. Story of his life.’

Tom lets out a chuckle. ‘Well, let’s see what he says back to that. That’ll be most telling.’

It’s a few minutes before Dad’s reply pings through to my phone.

You know I am. I’m trying to mend bridges now. The standing order has been cancelled but I wanted you to know the money is still there if you need it. I know things must be tight for you after everything that’s happened. All you need to do is shout. Love D x

I show the message to Tom and he raises his eyebrows.

‘What do you think?’ I ask him.

‘Well, he still didn’t say sorry. I dunno. I don’t really want to say anything, if I’m honest. It’s not my place.’

‘No, please,’ I say. ‘I want to know what you think. I won’t be offended, I promise.’

‘Alright. Well if you don’t mind me being honest, I read that as if he’s saying he knows you’re going to need him eventually. It sounds a bit condescending to me. Sorry. I didn’t want to say anything.’

‘No,’ it’s fine,’ I say. ‘I think you’re right, actually.’

I know I should see Dad’s reply as supportive and fatherly, but all I can do is read between the lines and see something else. I see him telling me he doesn’t think I can be independent, financially or otherwise, and that he’s somehow expecting me to come running back to him. I don’t need to send him a reply. There’s nothing that needs saying. Actions will speak louder than words.