Good Enough to Trust (Good Enough, Book 2 - Going Back) (14 page)

Which made me
wonder.

“He’s gone
quieter.” He had, he was different in some ways to the old Ollie. Quieter, more
measured, more like Dane I suppose. I wasn’t sure he wanted to jump off cliffs
anymore, or flatten guys who eyed up his girl.

“We all have to
grow up sometime. He’s still the same, just a bit older.”

“And you think I
should leave him alone?” I looked at Dane, then over at Holly.

“Maybe you need to
give it some time. Just because you think you’ve got him worked out doesn’t
mean he knows what happened to you, does it?” Holly was logical, logical and
careful. “Look, you didn’t just want some time out to go and find Ollie did
you?”

She was right, as
always. I’d wanted some time and space to work out what had gone wrong in my
life, to face up to all the problems I’d swept under the carpet. “No, I didn’t
go looking for him at all.” Well, not consciously. “But you’re right, maybe I
need to ease off, finish what I came here for. I don’t blame myself for leaving
Mum now.”

Oh no, that had
been replaced with blaming myself for walking out on Ollie, not trusting him,
and then cocking up again.

“But there’s
something else I still need to work out.”

Something,
somewhere along the line had gone wrong with Mum and Dad. I’d realised that
they had loved each other, and maybe they’d never stopped. But I still couldn’t
forgive Dad for doing it, persuading Mum to end it all. And I still hated him
for treating her the way he had. He’d changed from a loving man into a drunken,
raging loser who’d scared the shit out of me and my sister. “I think I still
need to work out why he did it, what went wrong. He was my Dad after all.” I
could hear the way my voice tailed off to nothing and I felt like I was a kid
again, a little kid who wanted someone to put the world back the right way up.

“Well, do all your
working out first. Then you can go back and explain to Ollie, and tell him
you’re sorry.”

“You’re a lot
bossier than you used to be you know.”

Holly smiled and
flicked her long blonde hair back. It seemed a long time ago when we’d been in
Uni together, a long time ago since I’d persuaded her to move up to Cheshire
and try and forget her shit of an ex-husband, a long time since she’d been a
girl who thought she’d never be good enough for anyone.

All of a sudden I
knew I had to tell them. To share.

“I want to show
you something.” I dug my wallet out of my rucksack and fished into the pocket
at the back with fingers that were suddenly too big and clumsy. The folded up
piece of paper was getting tatty at the edges, worn along the seams where it
had been pressed together for too many years. I’d not unfolded that sheet of
paper for years, well not until yesterday that was. When I’d sat in my car
after Dane had left me, after Ollie had told me to leave him in peace. And I’d
opened it then because I’d needed my Mum, and I’d wanted to know that love was
sometimes for all the right reasons.

I carefully spread
it out and I was shaking, not just my hands but my whole body and something
deeper than that. Some bit inside me that had come to the end of the road. Four
eyes were fixed on me as I took a deep breath and tried to slow everything down
to a stop. The only other person who’d ever seen this innocent looking scrap of
paper was my sister, well my sister and a policewoman who’d pried it from my
fingers and put it in a bag, then eventually handed it back over when she’d
been told to.

“It’s from Mum.”
Okay, the trembling of my vocal chords wasn’t quite as bad as I’d dreaded it
would be. “It’s the letter she left me before, before she died.”

It’s weird how
certain things can just stop you in your tracks isn’t it? Death has that
effect. A kind of holding-your-breath silence and you’re waiting for someone to
say it’s okay, let go. We all stared at the sheet of paper rocking in my
fingertips. I was coming out of the other side, I knew it. I wasn’t sure what
was going to happen next in my life, and I was pretty sure I’d have to cope
without the man I loved in my life. But I didn’t have to hide my head in the
sand anymore, I didn’t want to.

“I think I might
get a cat when I get home and be a spinster.”

Dane laughed a
deep baritone of pleasure that broke the spell. “You do know cats don’t like to
be bossed around?”

“Cat woman.” Holly
grinned nervously, still eyeing up the sheet of paper. “Better than being a nun
suppose.” She bit her lip anxiously. “Can I read it?”

I wanted to scream
no, to hang on. This letter had been tucked away in my soul for so long that it
was hard to let go. I knew the first bit off by heart, but I’d never got to the
end properly, you know not taken it in—I’d just skimmed over the last few
paragraphs because I already knew all I needed. But, whilst I’d sat in the car
I’d studied every word, every syllable, every hidden message—not just the ones
that I’d wanted to be there. I handed it over, let go.

“I think she was
trying to tell me something. I thought—” Oh, I’d thought all kinds. “I thought
it was kind of awkward because he, Dad had made her write it, but it’s because
she wanted to tell me something and she didn’t know how.”

“Are you sure?”
Holly’s voice was soft and I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking I was
just trying to find something to fill the gaps, to give me the answers I
desperately needed.

I took the letter
back and traced my finger gently over the words. “When I was with Ollie it made
me remember how happy they used to be. You know what? I’d shut out the all good
bits and was just remembering the bad, isn’t that weird? I always thought it
was supposed to work the other way round.”

“Maybe it was
easier to be angry that way?”

I nodded. “And
easier to hate him, blame him. But even when things were really bad I’d
sometimes catch him looking at her, I was too young to realise what that look
meant then, but it was soft and caring and gentle.”

I sighed, he’d
been a nice man once, he’d been my Dad, but somewhere along the way he’d been
replaced by a monster.

“She’s kind of
apologising here, but it’s as though she thinks I should just accept it, like
she did. She’s making excuses for him.”

“Maybe it was
something she did, something that happened between them. I mean, I know it’s
hard to think of your Mum that way but…” Holly gave me a look that was almost
guilt, but with that hint of steel that said she had to get it out, for my own
good.

“I don’t think so.
Mum was a make it happen type of person and she’d have sorted it. It wasn’t
just some kind of tiff.” I scanned over the first couple of paragraphs, the
ones I knew off by heart, and looked at the bottom of the page.

I love you
Sophie, with all my heart, we both do. But, I know you can cope without us,
you’ve grown up into a beautiful strong girl and we’re so proud of you. I’m
sorry, we don’t want to leave you, but sometimes you just have to do what’s
best and I really believe this is best for all of us.

I know you and
Meggie will look after each other, I can’t leave Dad, he needs me more than
he’s ever needed me. You’ve already started to grow up, started to leave us and
find your own life. One day I hope you’ll forgive us. I just want you to be
happy, I want us all to be happy. I hope you never have to make a choice like
this, choose between leaving your children or leaving the man you promised to
spend the rest of your life with. You’ll always be in my heart. Fly the nest
and be free Soph, and please don’t hate us. I know you do now, I know we should
have talked about this, but we couldn’t talk any more. Things were spiralling
out of control and you seemed so happy and it just seemed the right time and
the right place.

There was a gap,
as though she didn’t know what to write next, and then at the very bottom, in a
shaky but bold ink that made me think she’d been pressing hard on the paper to
keep the pen steady.

Liz told me to
talk to you, but I can’t face you Sophie. I’m a coward, but I don’t want to be
talked out of this. Be strong for us, we love you so, so much, we really do. If
you can’t forgive us I hope you won’t forget and pray for us, pray that we’ve
done the right thing even if it seems so wrong
.

I gulped down the
blockage in my throat and glanced up into the worried face of Holly.

“It’s okay.” I put
my hand on hers. She was a brilliant friend, just like, I think, Liz had been
for Mum. We’d been a close family, just the four of us, knitted tight with no
real room for anyone else. I can’t remember Mum and Dad ever going out without
the other one, no boy’s or girl’s nights out for them. They always said they
had each other and they had us. But she talked to Liz sometimes. And I’d never
appreciated how important a good friend was until recently, back then I’d been
too young—a friend was the person you had a gossip with, the person you swapped
clothes with, the person you fell out with when you liked the same boy.

“I need to go and
find Liz, and then maybe I’ll understand.”

***

It wasn’t too
difficult to find Liz, and she looked just like she had all those years before.
Well, maybe a little bit heavier, a shorter haircut. But she still had the same
warm smile, the same open face and understanding look deep in those brown eyes.

“Sophie, what a
lovely surprise.” And it seemed I hadn’t changed much either. “Is anything
wrong?”

It’s bad isn’t it
when the first thing people think is that there must be something wrong? But I
suppose that’s what happens when you suddenly gatecrash someone you haven’t
seen for eight or nine years.

“No.” I grinned,
tried to put her at ease, but my stomach was churning with nerves and it must
have shown on my face. Or maybe it was the fact that I couldn’t quite stand
still and was jiggling about on her doorstep.

“Come in.” She
opened the door wider. “Wow, you’ve changed.”

“I grew up, well
bits of me did.”

“I can see that.”
She gave a dirty chuckle as her gaze skimmed over my body and it made me laugh
in response, I mean you don’t expect your parent’s friends to be naughty. You
kind of don’t think of them as real people do you? “Come on I’ll make you a
drink.”

I sat down in the
small kitchen and I was taken back in an instant. Mum and Liz had met when I
was at pre-school and they’d stayed friends as their children had grown up. I’d
played with her toddler son in the corner of this room, while the adults had
sat at the tables with mugs of tea and nattered in low voices.

“So?” She didn’t
waste time hedging, she knew I’d turned up for a reason, and I liked that.
Direct suited me. Maybe it suited Mum as well.

“You told Mum to
talk to me, before…”

“I did.” She took
a deep breath, and then stirred her tea slowly. “I lost a good friend when your
Mum went. I know it’s probably hard for you to understand why she could leave
you, but I tried everything to stop her. I really did.” She glanced back up at
me, but she wasn’t seeing me, I think she was probably seeing Mum. “I thought
if she talked it through with you then it would change her mind.”

“Which is why she
didn’t?”

The corner of her
mouth lifted into a wry grin. “She said you’d understand and I guess she was
right, like mother like daughter.” She squeezed my hand. “But I wish she hadn’t
done it.” She sounded so sad that I instinctively reached out and put my hand
over hers. “Love is a funny thing isn’t it?”

I hadn’t expected
her to come out with that, so I just nodded and wondered where this was going.

“Your Mum and Dad
were mad head over heels in love and I don’t think it ever changed one bit for
them, which is why she had to go with him.”

“I don’t
understand how she could still love him.” The little voice was mine and Liz
linked her fingers through mine. “He hurt her, really hurt her.” And I was
thinking about the bruises to her body, not her heart.

“I know.”

I should have come
and talked to Liz long ago, but I’d been so wrapped up in hate and anger, in
feeling sorry for myself when I should have been asking why.

“He was ill, did
you know?”

I shook my head
and her face widened with shock. “They should have told you.” She said it half
to herself.

“Who?”

“The police,
coroner, someone.”

“Maybe they did
and I missed it.” I felt the sigh slowly escape from my body and I felt
strangely lifted, lighter. “I didn’t take much in, it was all…”

“I know.” She sat
up a bit straighter. “Your Dad was ill, he had a brain tumour.”

“But you can fix
that can’t you? There was no need to—”

“It was too
dangerous to operate on. I’m not the right person to give you all the answers,
I only know what your Mum told me, but it was why he changed. It was killing
him slowly, day by day, and not just in a physical way he could handle. He
started off just being ill which he brushed off, he said it was stress at work,
but then he started having problems doing things that used to be easy, and he
crashed the car.” She paused and I remembered, he was always so careful, but
he’d lost control. It had only been a small bump, but we’d been in the car, me
and Meg, and he’d been so angry. Angrier than he should have been.