The good thing about the disastrous non-date was that it gave me something to focus on other than my exam results. I could have gone in to collect them in person, but by the time I woke up in the morning, I’d had my emails from all of the universities with offers, which meant my results didn’t really matter.
Now to decide.
“Sweetie? Do you want breakfast?”
“Sure, I’ll be right down.” I gave Bob an affectionate rub before going down to tell Mum the good news. A huge spread of pancakes, strawberries, yoghurt, and pastries decorated the table. “Mum!” All my favourite foods were ready for me to eat.
“I wanted to celebrate.”
“Thank you.” I offered her a small hug before taking a seat.
“So, have you made any decisions now you know all of your options?” Mum asked as I speared a berry.
“Well, I think I need to decide between Nottingham and St Mary’s.” I took a bite of a croissant and let the flaky pastry melt in my mouth.
“Not Bristol?”
I looked up at her. She wasn’t letting this go. “Mum, it was my safety choice. I don’t think I need to take it up.”
“Listen, sweetie. Now you’re an adult I think I should tell you a little more about why we moved out here.”
“Okay…” I waited for her to go on. It had been over ten years, and when we did first move here, it was everything my last home wasn’t. I was too young to ask questions, and why would I when I got to play and be happy?
“You might not remember him well, but we moved because of your father. Or to escape him.” I remembered bringing up questions about my dad a few years ago, but she hadn’t wanted to discuss it. The way she emphasised the word escape, repeated over in my head, and I knew I needed to hear the rest of this story.
“He was charming and handsome and everything I thought I wanted. Until he changed. He became involved with some nasty guys. Gambling, drinking, staying out all the time. I didn’t notice at first as I had a new baby to occupy myself. But as you got older, he got worse. He was constantly in debt, his mood changed, he wasn’t the man I fell in love with, and he didn’t make any effort to be in your life.”
As Mum set out the picture for me, I was surprised by the lack of emotion I was feeling. Subconsciously, perhaps, I didn’t want to know about my dad. And now she was justifying what I had known deep down all along, just with the full gory details.
“We’d started getting into arguments about his behaviour. And as time went on, it just got worse and worse. I carried on the best I could, working as much as possible to save and keep money away from him because he’d just spend it or gamble it away.”
“So, what made you leave?”
“The fighting.”
“Fighting?” I asked, my blood turning to ice at the word as I pictured the scene from the other night.
“He started to come home looking like he’d been in a fight. Cut lip, swollen eyes, black and blue with bruises. I thought it was his debts catching up with him, but it wasn’t. He needed to make money and to keep some nasty people happy, so he started fighting. Sometimes he’d win—sometimes he’d lose. That was the hardest part. Seeing the man I loved get beaten up for money.”
The words sank in, but all I could think about was Maddison and the club he’d taken me to. The men in the ring, was that what my father did? I didn’t know how old he was, but if he were the same age as my mum, he’d be in his late forties now.
“You left him?”
“I had no choice. His lifestyle, the fights, the money; it all caught up with him. People came to the house. They took my car and threatened us. So, I left. He always swore I’d never leave him, and that if I did, he’d find us. It’s taken a long time for me to stop looking over my shoulder all the time.”
“You don’t want me leaving home, do you?” Now she’d put everything on the table, I understood the overprotectiveness I’d experienced over the years. I’d put it down to her being a watchful mum. With her story as context, I could understand her worry.
“No. I know I have no right. This is your life, and I can’t make you pay for the mistakes I made, but I’m your mother, and I need to watch out for you.”
“Where did we live before?” I realised I’d never asked any of these questions in the past. Was that because I suspected it wasn’t something I wanted to know about?
“London.”
“He doesn’t know where we are now, so why would he be able to find me somewhere else?” I knocked St Mary’s off my options and thought about what other choices I had to make.
“He might not. But that doesn’t make it any easier for me.”
My mind sorted through the list of questions that kept popping up. But the one thing I couldn’t escape was that I’d be causing Mum more pain if I moved away. Did I need to do that?
“What’s my father’s name?”
“Mike. But he was known as Mikey. Mikey Kenner.”
Chapter 13
Grace 18 Years Old
University was…. just more of the same.
Staying at home meant I missed out on plenty, but I’d chosen to look at it a different way. By listening to my mum, I’d kept worry from her mind and stayed with Bob. Plus, I still got to see Maddison and Oliver regularly. Too much was changing in my life that I couldn’t control. This was something I could, and so it was an easy decision when it came down to it.
Maddison didn’t go to Uni. He got a job, two actually. He joined a local contractor and started labouring for them during the week, and at weekends, he went to The Club. Turned out they couldn’t think of anything more imaginative to call the place. Things had settled between us. He didn’t ask me to go back there with him, but he did take me out every couple of weeks—nothing special, just burgers and milkshakes at a place near town. The American décor made the place feel authentic, with a jukebox and red leather booths. But it was the milkshakes that had me going back. They were the best I’d ever tasted. It was our thing, and more than anything, that made me happy. My friend was back. We were both pretty busy with our own lives, but somehow there was an unwritten understanding that it was harder to be without each other than work at being friends. Our meetings were without any pressure or expectation, at least visibly. A current still existed between us—a tension that never left. Each time we met, it would climb up my spine and wrap around my chest, tightening further and further until we parted.
Mads was positively huge now. His chest so broad, his muscles so defined that I wondered if he’d taken up bodybuilding. And just like always, he pulled the eyes of every female in the room when we were out. When we were in school, it had been easier for me to ignore. Now, it seemed rude how the waitress ignored me and only talked to him, or despite us being out together, the girls and woman gave him the eye and caught his attention, like I was invisible to them.
“Don’t worry about them. I don’t.”
“It’s just rude. You can see me, right?” I’d waved my hand in front of his face for dramatic effect.
“Oh, I see you, don’t worry.” He dipped his eyes quickly to the menu. “What do you fancy today?”