‘What do you want?’ he replied without a hint of familiarity, affection or surprise.

I was overcome with the weight of the sudden transference to past times of sadness and fear. It warned me that this encounter would not go well. I briefly wondered if I should just walk out of the door and leave it at that. This had been a big mistake. I replied to him but couldn’t summon up any warmth or emotion in my voice.

‘I’m in a bit of a fix, Dad, and I wondered if you could help me out?’

‘You want money, I suppose. I’ve often wondered when this day would come – you knocking on my door, having failed in life like you failed me as a daughter.’

‘No, I don’t want money, I just need somewhere to stay, and I didn’t fail you, Dad. I did everything you asked of me.’

‘Yes, and you hated me for that. You hated me for trying to guide you into adulthood when that, my precious daughter, was my duty as a parent.’

‘I didn’t hate you. I just hated the way you treated Mum and how little you actually wanted to be with me. Everything in this home was designed to make life bearable for you whatever the cost to me and Mum. You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to. You know I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.’

‘Why would I want to help you? I lost your mother because of your behaviour and lack of responsibility.’

‘That’s not true. She left because you treated her like shit. Did you know that she’s happy now? Did you know that happiness started the very moment she stepped out of this place?’

A slight tremble of pain crossed his face before he stood up and said, ‘I’m pleased for her, but not as pleased as I am at your obvious misery.’

This was the moment that, as a child, I would have burst into tears and begged him for forgiveness, but not today.

‘Do you know what, I don’t need your help. I don’t think I ever did. Why don’t you just fuck off and rot just like this miserable place.’

Father smiled at me, which was a rare occurrence usually accompanied by a sarcastic remark or a barbed comment. Not this time, however.

‘That’s more like it,’ he said. ‘Maybe there is hope for you yet.’

I delivered a final ‘Fuck off’ before slamming the door behind me and leaving the hotel. As I walked down the steps, I thought about the moment my mother had done the very same thing. Just like her, I knew I would never see my father again. It felt good.

23

‘Wow’ is all I could think to say.

‘So, I guess I won’t be staying here,’ Emily concluded.

‘How are you feeling?’ I replied.