I pushed the door open and stepped inside the pub, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the dim electric lighting. My nose twitched at the smell of fried breakfasts. I’d never been in here in the morning. It was different. Wrong.
I ordered an orange juice at the bar and then I walked instinctively to the corner with my gaze locked upon the familiar table.
Our table.
I took a deep breath as I pulled a chair out and sank into it. I set the orange juice down and my fingers automatically traced a circle of worn varnish on the wooden tabletop.
I screwed my eyes closed tightly. If I could block out the scent of greasy bacon and the sound of young children laughing as they ate with their parents, I could almost pretend it was nine months ago and I was waiting for Adam for our first date.
I could practically feel the nervous anticipation, the fear that he wouldn’t show up and the desperate hope that he would.
But it wasn’t real. I let out a deep breath and opened my eyes. I didn’t carry any hope any more, only the heavy weight of resignation that things would never be the same.
I’d never been one to hold onto wistful fantasies. I was too practical. Too sensible. Or maybe just too jaded.
Adam had been different. He’d been something to hope for. Someone to put my faith in again. For a while at least. I’d tried to make it work. To make us work. But I’d failed. I’d always failed. I’d failed to make Adam happy, just like I’d failed…
I took a swig of orange juice and attempted to stop my mind from finishing that thought, but it was too strong, the truth wouldn’t be denied any longer.
Just like I’d failed to make everyone else in my life happy. The list of my failings was long; past boyfriends, Susan, my parents…
‘You talk as though we were better off before.’
I hesitated at the sound of Mummy’s voice as I approached the kitchen. There was something about her tone that deterred me from entering.
‘We were, Abigail.’
‘We were broke.’
Daddy chuckled. ‘We were hardly broke. Money was a little tight, but we managed. We were happy.’
‘And now you’re not?’
I set my school bag down quietly in the hall and edged closer to the kitchen door.
‘No.’
I heard Mummy’s sharp intake of breath.
‘No one’s happy. Not here. Not now. How can we be when you’re so…’
‘What?’ There was a hardness to Mummy’s voice. It was a tone I was becoming more and more accustomed to. ‘Angry? Upset?’
‘Yes,’ Daddy said softly, as though he didn’t really want to admit it. ‘I understand why you feel like that. I really do. But that doesn’t make it any easier to live with.’
‘So I’m the problem. Not the money. Not the house. Me.’
‘You know that’s not what I meant.’
‘You and Jess seem to be quite happy together here. It’s only being around me that brings you down.’
‘No, Abigail.’ Daddy shook his head.
‘I keep watching you two sitting at the end of the garden with your backs to me. Shutting me out.’
‘You know it’s not like that. Jess loves to watch the ocean waves.’
‘She loves to watch them with you.’
‘She’d love to sit and watch them with you, too.’
Mummy snorted.
‘Have you ever thought about joining us there?’
‘It’s your thing. Something that’s just between the two of you.’
Daddy reached for her hand. ‘It could be between the three of us.’
Mummy yanked her hand away. ‘The three of us. I always have to share you with her.’
‘Abigail—’
‘I won’t compete with a seven-year-old for your attention.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
I flinched. I’d never heard Daddy say hell before. It was a bad word. That’s what Mummy always said whenever the neighbour said it in the garden.
‘She’s the centre of your world.’
‘She’s my daughter. Our daughter.’
Mummy scoffed. ‘Ours. You wouldn’t know it. She barely even talks to me.’
‘Because she doesn’t know what to say to you that won’t upset you or make you cross.’
I shifted my weight from foot to foot and bumped the door. It creaked as it swayed on its hinges.
Daddy turned and his gaze met mine.
I drew back, waiting for him to tell me off. I was being naughty. I shouldn’t listen to grown-up conversations.
‘How long have you been there, Jess?’ I studied Daddy’s expression as he walked towards me. He didn’t look cross. Just worried.
‘Not l-long,’ I stuttered. ‘I didn’t want to be late.’
He glanced at his watch and his eyes widened. ‘Right, come on then, let’s get you to school.’
Daddy picked up my bag and ushered me out to the garage.
‘You forgot your briefcase,’ I realised as we reached the car. ‘I’ll go and get it.’
I started to turn back, but Daddy stopped me. ‘No, Jessie. That’s okay. I’ll get it later.’
Daddy opened the car door and I clambered in, frowning. ‘Aren’t you going to work today?’ Daddy always went to work after he’d dropped me at school.
‘Not straight away. Mummy and I need to sort some things out first.’ He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
‘Won’t you be in trouble if you’re late?’
Daddy chuckled. ‘I think it will be okay, just this once.’
I shrank back in my seat. Everything seemed odd this morning. Daddy was never late for anything. Mummy didn’t permit it.
‘Can we still go to the library on Saturday?’
Daddy winked at me in the rear-view mirror. ‘Of course, we have a volcano project to finish, don’t we?’
I smiled. At least something hadn’t changed.
I screwed up my nose, as an idea formed in my brain. ‘Do you think Mummy would like to come with us?’
Daddy’s reflection paled and he stared at me silently for a moment.
‘Tell you what,’ he said finally. ‘Why don’t you ask Mummy tonight?’
I nibbled my bottom lip.
‘It’ll be okay, Jess. I promise.’
I smiled and nodded.
The three of us.
My smile slipped away. Somehow, I wasn’t sure Mummy would want to go.