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THE ENGINE HUMMED AS Dan changed gears, moved his feet over the pedals and turned onto and off roads without a single conscious thought. His mind was too busy trying to fathom how he had sunk so low. To betray his wife, assault a friend – it went against his every moral fiber.
His upbringing had been founded upon a strong sense of right and wrong, and he’d lived his life according to good, decent values. Yet in the space of less than a minute, he’d not only let himself down, but also the people who trusted him. Dan knew that if his father were alive, he’d be disgusted with his behaviour today.
The fact that he and Penny had admitted their marriage had been over for a long time was inconsequential. They’d agreed to stay together, to provide Tamara with a stable upbringing. They hadn’t consented to seeing other people. He was legally married, and he’d betrayed his wife.
An image of Michelle, aged ten, came to mind and twisted his heart. How could he have hurt that girl? He’d joined Childhoodchums to rekindle old friendships, not sweep in and abuse them.
By the time he arrived home, his head was pounding. The prospect of facing Penny, knowing what he’d done, was knocking him sick.
As he opened the front door, he heard sobbing coming from the lounge. He ran through to find Tamara, struggling to haul her mother onto the sofa. She sobbed harder when she saw him.
‘Good God,’ Dan scooped Penny from the floor and gently laid her on the sofa. There was an empty wine bottle on the table and a broken glass on the carpet, next to a pool of vomit.
‘I can’t wake Mum up. She’s dead this time, I know she is.’
Dan put his arms around his daughter. ‘Shh... She’s all right. Mum’s fine.’
Tamara craned her neck to look at her mother, unwilling to take her eyes off her for a second.
‘She probably hasn’t had lunch yet so the wine’s gone straight to her head.’
‘What if she doesn’t wake up?’
Dan stroked Tamara’s hair and kissed the top of her head. ‘She will, I promise.’
Penny snorted and rolled over. Tamara choked out a laugh.
‘See?’ said Dan. ‘Anyway, why aren’t you at school?’
‘I forgot my English coursework, so I came home for lunch.’
Dan looked at his sixteen-year-old daughter’s tear-stained face and felt fury course through his veins. He kept his tone light-hearted. ‘I reckon, with me at work and you at school, Mum thought she’d watch a film and have a glass of wine.’ He laughed. ‘Making the most of having the house to herself.’
Tamara smiled and buried her face in her father’s chest. He held her in his arms and wished he could protect her from all this.
‘You always make things right, Dad.’ She rubbed her red-rimmed eyes and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. ‘What a worrywart I am.’
He ruffled her hair. ‘Oh, look at the state of your mop.’
She gave him a playful punch. ‘Why did you have to give me your thick wavy hair? Wish I’d inherited Mum’s. Look at it, she’s got vomit in it and it’s still sleek and glossy.’ Tamara wrinkled her freckled nose at her father and giggled.
‘Nip upstairs and wash your face. I’ll drive you back to school.’
She breathed a sigh of relief then kissed her mother’s cheek and went off to tidy herself up.
‘And give that unruly mop a brush while you’re there,’ he called after her.
Penny never stirred.
Once Dan heard the bathroom door close, he let the smile fall from his face. Puffing out a lungful of air, he watched Penny drool onto a cushion.
It’s all such a bloody mess.
