Page 68

Jack

Willow and Angus were cocooned in blankets on one sofa. Pain medication seeped through her body slowly but surely. I watched her from the other sofa.

Dickens’ head rested on the sofa next to her belly, soft sighs as he yearned for his happier best friend. The creases between her tense brows lessened as she relaxed in sleep, though the pangs of pain were evident as her sleeping body braced through contractions.

Being surrounded by women all my life, PMS symptoms weren’t new, but watching Willow experience it so intensely was hard to watch.

I’d assumed her reaction was down to a few too many drinks mixed with a stomach full of pizza, I was guilty for it.

I stood with a rush of panic when the front door rattled, snapped open, and slammed shut.

By the time I made it to the doorway of the living room, a whirlwind of Francesca Lambert sped past me and up the stairs with a suitcase in tow.

I watched as the bag thumped against every step until finally her bedroom door slammed above me.

For a moment, the silence of the house had me question if that had happened at all.

Seconds later, the tell-tale angry Taylor Swift blasted through the walls. I frowned, closing the door to the living room to prevent Willow’s disturbance and followed her.

My knocks were initially muffled by Taylor promising that this was her trying. I knocked harder, only for the door to be flung open and the tear-stained scowl of my daughter glaring up at me. No matter her age, this look of devastation would make my heart stop and stomach sink.

“ Francesca , what’s happened?!” I pushed into her bedroom, shutting the door behind me and I turned the music down.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” She stayed by the door with her arms crossed, avoiding my eyes. What was it with the women in this house refusing to share their problems and let me in ?

“The line of mascara from your left eye suggests otherwise.” She spun to the mirror by the door to check, rubbing all remnants away. “Tell me what’s happened. Maybe I can help.” I moved towards her cautiously.

“It’s stupid.”

“If it’s stupid, it’ll be easy to fix. Come on, love.” I brushed my hands down her tense arms.

“I’m never going to get anywhere in life.” She cracked, tears fell, and sobs wracked her petite body as she thumped her head into my chest.

“What? Of course you are.”

She sniffled. “No, I’m not. And people are mean. I’m moving back and never leaving the house.”

“While I’d love that, you know you wouldn’t.”

She glared at me. “Don’t try to analyse me, Dad .” She huffed over to the bed, flopping onto her back and rubbed her eyes.

“What’s happened?”

With a deep sigh, she replied, “I’ve had eleven internship interviews in the last month.

Here, Manchester, and everywhere in between.

I haven’t dared attempt an entry level job, because they’re clearly not interested.

I turned up to my eleventh interview today to find that one of the girls I live with got the internship because her dad is the director.

So, unless I find out I’m miraculously related to the CEO of an interior design company, I haven’t got a chance.

” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “And to make it worse, when I got home, Katie – that’s the daddy’s girl, ” she sobbed, “ gloated in front of her friends, telling me I’d never amount to anything in this industry.

” Her voice petered out until it was merely a squeak.

“Girls are so mean. I-I’m just t-trying to get by and enjoy life. ”

I sat on the bed by her and pulled her into my arms. The only thing worse than experiencing heartache myself was the living, breathing heart of your child breaking before you and being unable to control it.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. One day, the people who deserve you will slot into your life and never leave. Look at the Johnsons. Elle, Willow, and Ben—”

“They’re your people—”

“They can still be yours without anything to do with me. You have no idea how special you are, love. And karma will hit everyone who questioned you in the jugular, I promise you.”

She sniffed again into my jumper.

“You’re my dad, you have to say that.”

“There’s plenty of dads who don’t say it enough. I don’t have to, I want to.”

Wiping her eyes and rubbing her red nose against my jumper like she used to as a little girl, she finally calmed .

“Thanks,” she croaked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to storm through the house. Where’s Willow?”

“On the sofa asleep.” She questioned me silently. “Time of the month. Turns out she suffers pretty badly.”

“Great. Just what she needs. Can I help?”

“Thanks, love, but I’m not sure there’s much we can do.”

“I’ll take her out when she’s feeling better. It’d be nice to spend some time with my new step-mum while I’m here for the week.” She nudged me mockingly and I groaned.

“Don’t make this weird, please. She’s your friend, my girlfriend.

Alternative labels not required. That’s a lovely offer, love, but I’d prefer it if you could both stay home where I can keep an eye on you.

” She raised an eyebrow, and I blew out a breath.

“Please, just trust me. I need to know where you both are. I’m scared that if I lose sight of her – of either of you – something terrible will happen and I can’t—” My voice cracked in time with my heart.

“I can’t have that happen.” I rubbed a hand over my chest, trying to ease the strain.

Frannie took it from my chest and soothed me with calming strokes.

“It’s okay. We can stay in. Have you told Willow you don’t want her going anywhere?” I winced. “ Dad! ” she whisper-shouted. “You can’t expect her to just accept being locked up like she’s the problem to begin with!”

“She is not the problem!” I snapped.

“I know and you know and even she knows this, bu—”

“The man who hurt her for seven years, who keeps showing up outside our home, our home , the one you’ve grown up in, and now you’re both here and there’s absolutely nothing I can do because the police won’t take it seriously because he’s clever e-fucking-nough to stay out of sight from the cameras that you can’t actually be sure it’s him.

So, I know she’s not the problem, none of us are.

I’m absolutely fucking terrified, and I have no idea what to do. ”

My daughter’s wide eyes bounced between mine. I’d never ranted or snapped at her like that. She took my hand in silence, squeezing it in reassurance.

“The second she starts to feel like a princess locked in a tower, she’s going to flip, and you can’t blame her.” She was right, I knew it already.

“I know. I just want to keep her safe, and I can’t guarantee Cain won’t try something the second I lose sight of her.”

I knew it wasn’t ideal, but it was the only thing that could settle my mind. In my periphery, my daughter’s judgemental gaze had my skin itching. After a short silence, Frannie’s stomach rumbled.

“Hungry?” I smiled as she rubbed her belly. “I don’t think Willow will eat tonight. Fancy a daddy-daughter home-made dinner? ”

Her eyes lit up. “Cheesy chicken?” she asked hopefully and I breathed out a laugh.

“Cheesy chicken it is. Get yourself settled and I’ll shout when it’s ready.” She nodded with a smile, and I kissed her head.

Two hours later, we were sat at the island, tucking into our cheesy chicken, topped with my secret ingredient – cornflakes and extra cheese to make a delicious crunchy top.

“Oh my god,” Frannie groaned with a full mouth. “This is incredible, Dad.”

Her earlier upset had calmed, though I knew the insecurities were buried far below surface-level.

As an adult with twenty-five more years under my belt than her, I had faith that the worries would fall by the wayside as she progressed.

As her dad, however, I just wanted to hook them from under her skin and unravel them until their existence was forgotten.

Parenting was a constant balancing act between allowing them to find their own journey, make their own mistakes, and protecting them from all the heartache life could offer.

As Frannie hummed through a new forkful of chicken, the kitchen door opened to reveal Willow.

She shuffled through, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, hair a pineapple on her head. Her skin was pale, her lips blending with the rest of her face and darkness under eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I held out a hand, and her shuffling increased until she stood between my legs, leaning against me. “How are you feeling?” I asked softly, brushing dark strands from her face.

“Like I’ve been hit by a bus,” she rasped.

“Do you want some food?”

She shook her head.

“I have a TENS belt if you want to try?” Frannie asked from my other side.

“It’s okay. Thanks, Fran.”

Though she proved to be absolutely not okay when she folded at the waist, groaning at the pain that ripped through her. Even I felt her muscles ripple as she pressed into me. I rubbed her back softly.

“I’d believe you more if you weren’t trying to blend with the countertop. I’ll go grab it.” Frannie eyed me with concern, and I nodded in appreciation .

When the pain passed, Willow returned to her usual height, looking at me exhausted.

“When did Fran get here?”

“While you were napping, baby. She’s staying for the mid-term break.

I don’t think she’s had the best time at university for the last month.

Between you both, I have my hands full,” I joked light-heartedly, though she didn’t reciprocate.

She was so sad. I craved my giggly, talkative girlfriend.

“Give it a few days, you’ll be back to your usual self.

” I kissed her head and relished the comfort she allowed.

Soon, Frannie returned with the belt. I took the blanket from Willow, and gently lifted her hoodie to allow Frannie to wrap it round her.

It may have been an unconventional household now – my girlfriend a mere seven years older than my daughter – but I was proud of the bubble we were creating, and I was eager to see where it might take us.