And so it went on, Josh coming and going, Shauna complaining, Claire often in tears as he left her, the pressure building so high that sometimes he thought he was going off his head, wondering what time zone he was in, wondering which way was up.

93

93

When Aysha came downstairs dressed in her bridal gown on her wedding day, Josh could hardly draw breath.

‘You look beautiful,’ he said honestly.

Aysha did. She had dark gypsy colouring, black hair and a stunning figure – which was not yet too obscured by the bulge of the baby she was carrying. Shauna had moved heaven and earth to make this wedding happen exactly as she wanted, mercilessly bullying florists, photographers, priests and caterers. There had been tantrums along the way, and tears and screaming matches, but somehow all that had passed and now here they were, on Aysha’s big day.

‘It doesn’t show too much, does it?’ Aysha asked her dad anxiously, coming down into the hall and picking up her bouquet of long-stemmed white lilies from the hall table.

Josh just shook his head; he was too choked to speak. The poor little bitch couldn’t help what had gone on between her parents, could she? Aysha looked like an angel in a white chiffon scoop-necked gown, cut in the high-waisted Empire style to help conceal her pregnancy. The gown had long sweeping sleeves and a trailing crystalled hem that pooled behind Aysha like a glittering waterfall. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, and her make-up was subtle but flattering.

‘You look wonderful too,’ she told him. Josh had the stature to carry off a morning suit.

There in the hall, with the sunlight streaming in through the windows and lighting this vision of bridal loveliness, Josh looked at his daughter and said: ‘You’re sure now? Really sure?’

Aysha nodded. ‘Dad . . .’ she said, then stumbled to a halt.

‘Hm?’ Josh was smiling at her.

‘I . . . I know you’ve never liked me very much, and—’

The smile slipped from Josh’s face. ‘Aysha—’

‘No! Let me finish, because I don’t think I’ll ever have the nerve to say this again. I know you’ve never loved me like you love Connor, and I wish . . . I just wish I knew what I’d done to cause that, to make you hate me . . .’ Aysha stopped speaking, then half-smiled shakily and dabbed at her eyes. ‘Shit, I’m going to ruin my mascara.’

Josh felt like crying himself. Poor bloody Aysha! She was ignorant of all the crap that had gone down before she was born, she couldn’t know that she could easily be Jeb Cleaver’s daughter – or any of the Cleaver boys, or maybe even Bill the dad’s, the filthy old bastard – and not his.