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‘You lied to me, you piece of shit.’

Emilia glared at her father, fighting hard to swallow down her rising emotion. She refused to let this worthless toad see how upset she was, would not give him that satisfaction. What he deserved was her righteous outrage.

‘This whole thing was a set-up from the start. Asking me to come here alone, to visit Louisa, it was all part of your plan to get your hands on that gold.’

‘Emilia, please, not so loud,’ her father protested, casting a nervous look at the loitering prison guard.

‘Are you kidding me?’ the journalist demanded, raising her voice. ‘I want the whole world to know what you’ve done. You used me again, your own flesh and blood, to spring a bloody heist .’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘It was exactly like that. You manipulated me, put me in danger, all because of your greed.’

‘I had no choice, Emilia.’

‘Oh, save it,’ she hissed. ‘I’ve heard it all before.’

‘Please, believe me,’ her father insisted, his expression intense. ‘If I could have done this any other way, I would have done. This was the only way I could keep everyone safe.’

‘Are you for real? Two men robbed me last night. One of them had a bloody hammer. What would they have done if I hadn’t got out of my car? Smashed the window anyway? Attacked me?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ her father muttered, shame-faced. ‘I couldn’t think of another way. I owe them money. Lots of money.’

‘Who?’ Emilia barked.

‘The guys … the guys I used to work with.’

‘The “guys” who did this to me?’ Emilia fired back, aghast, gesturing to the scarring on the left side of her face.

‘Yes, them,’ Ernesto muttered, unable to look at his daughter. ‘I’ve … I’ve run up a few debts in here.’

‘A hundred grand worth of debts? In here? Are you bloody kidding me?’

‘Please, Emilia, hush now …’

‘Lobster every night, is it? Washed down with champagne? What do you take me for?’

‘I got in a bit of trouble with one of the other inmates, OK?’ Ernesto protested, wiping the sweat form his brow. ‘He runs a book, a betting syndicate. I made some bad choices, couldn’t pay him, so I borrowed money from the old crew to try and make things right …’

‘And let me guess, you bet and lost again.’

Ernesto shrugged his answer, disconsolate.

‘I’ve never been very lucky.’

‘Spare me, I forgot to bring my violin.’

Emilia, please, I’m trying to explain. The debts kept getting bigger, my associates were charging interest and they were happy to let the debts grow, thinking I’d make it back for them when I got out, but when they heard I was dying, they demanded payment.’

‘You do actually have cancer then?’ Emilia replied, witheringly.

‘How can you ask me that?’ her father replied, looking genuinely aggrieved. ‘Do I look like a well man to you?’

Emilia shrugged, but in truth she did believe that part of the story. Her father seemed to be fading away in front of her very eyes.

‘So why use me?’ demanded furiously. ‘Why not just give your associates Louisa’s address?’

‘I’ve told you why I couldn’t do that. Do you think they would have asked her politely for the money?’

Emilia glowered at him, refusing to acknowledge that her father had a point.

‘I thought if you could get it without her knowing, and they could then retrieve it from you without incident, then everything might be alright.’

‘For you, you mean. But what about me? I thought you genuinely wanted to make amends for what you did to me, to us. More fool me, I guess.’

Her father once more broke off eye contact, each blow landing heavily. He actually seemed humbled, humiliated even, something Emilia had never witnessed before.

‘Please, my love, if there had been any other way …’ he murmured forlornly.

‘No, no, you don’t get to call me “love”. That is the one thing you’ve never given us. You have always put yourself first, always . I mean why did you even bother having kids if you had no interest in them?’

‘I loved you all, I still do …’

‘Bullshit, we’re just pawns in your game, to be used and then discarded. It means nothing to you, does it?’

‘That’s not true,’ her father replied, colour rising in his cheeks. ‘The day you were born was the happiest day of my life, my first-born, my eldest.’

‘Yeah, right …’

‘It’s true,’ Ernesto insisted, his voice shaking slightly. ‘From the minute I held you in my arms, I knew what you were. A warrior. A fighter. You were so strong, so determined. I knew you would be something special even then.’

‘Jesus, you’re incredible,’ Emilia shot back. ‘Do you really think you can charm your way out of this? You never gave any of us a moment’s thought. It was the life you loved – being a big shot, dealing drugs, throwing your money around.’

‘No, no, no,’ Ernesto exploded, banging the table with his fist. ‘That is not true. Yes, I made mistakes, plenty of them, but I loved you all, cared for you all. You had a roof over your head, food on the table, smart clothes. Who do you think provided all that? Father Christmas?’

Emilia stared at him, wrongfooted by his anger and annoyed by this uncomfortable truth.

He had provided for them, there was no question of that.

But that didn’t make up for the callous way he’d exploited them, endangering their own lives simply to make a buck.

She hesitated, uncertain how to respond, but before she could do so, her father resumed his attack.

‘I never had any of that, let me tell you. I grew up on the streets of Oporto with nothing .’

Emilia squirmed in her seat. She didn’t really want to go there, didn’t want to entertain the possibility of having any sympathy for this man.

‘I never knew my father and my mother … well, she was murdered when I was eight, beaten to death by one of her “clients”.’

Emilia looked away, didn’t want to hear it.

‘After that, it was just me, surviving by my wits, until my uncle found me, got me out of there, brought me here. He had his reasons for that too …’

Once more Emilia saw anger flare in her father’s eyes, before he brusquely continued:

‘I never had a family, Emilia. I never knew what that meant, what you were supposed to do. So, yes, I messed up, yes, I let you down. But I never wanted any of that, I never wanted to hurt you, I just didn’t know any better.

I … I did what I could do to be a decent parent. I’m … I’m just sorry it wasn’t enough.’

Despite herself, Emilia felt the first stirrings of sympathy. This man had suffered in ways she would probably never know. But did this excuse his bare-faced lies, his callous treatment of them all? Emilia thought she knew the answer to that, picking up her bag and rising.

‘Please, Emilia, don’t go. I’m trying to explain.’

‘You’ve said enough already.’

‘Be angry with me, hate me even, but please don’t abandon me.’

She stared at his entreating face, the man she had often hated, on occasion missed, perhaps sometimes even loved.

‘Sorry, Dad. No one makes a mug out of me twice.’

She saw disappointment grip his features, but she wasn’t done yet.

‘You’re a parasite, a disease. A man who has brought me nothing but trouble. So, thanks for the kind words, but it’s too little too late.’

She paused briefly, before delivering her coup de grace.

‘You’ll never see me again.’