Page 50 of The Admiral's Daughter

“I’ve always loved writing,” I say, pulling myself back to the present and away from my wayward thoughts of time gone by and the hurt which hid within each passing second. “My mum would buy me a stack of writing pads for Christmas and I’d get through them all within a few months.”

“What did you write?” she asks, putting her knife and fork down.

“Everything and nothing.” I laugh. “Sometimes I’d make up fantastical stories about the snails in our garden, or about how the old lady next door was really a kind old witch.”

River’s smile blooms so widely as I speak, it catches me off guard.

“I can just imagine that,” she says.

“Then there were times I’d see myself as one of the Secret Seven.”

“Ah, Enid Blyton. My older cousin used to read all those.”

“My grandparents bought them for me. The books were a little before my time, but I devoured them and then went on my own adventures in my head. I would investigate nonsense and write stories about it.”

“Wow. All I did was make mud pies and stinky rose petal perfume.”

We laugh together, and it’s really lovely. I can’t help but sneak a few lingering stares at River in her uniform. I swear it’s a fetish at this stage.

“So how did that lead to journalism?”

“As I grew up, I continued to write, but I leaned more towards the investigative side. I think the defining moment was when…”

“When?”

Crap, I’m heading into family baggage territory. “It’s not the happiest of stories.”

River shrugs. “If you want to tell it, I want to hear it.”

“I caught my dad cheating on my mum.”

“Shit, that’s rough.”

Yeah, she’s not wrong. It was rough. It still is sometimes when I think about how our lives were turned upside down.

“I blamed myself for not catching him sooner,” I say, lost in memories.

“Cleo.”

Bringing myself back to the room, I give River a small smile. “I know it’s crazy. No kid should ever find out their dad is a cheater, let alone blame themselves for not finding out sooner.”

“But you weren’t any old kid, huh?” she replies fondly.

“I guess not. I felt like I’d let Mum down, and then myself, you know? I was the person who investigated the world, but I’d not caught on to something so glaringly obvious.”

“Was it obvious?” she asks.

“Now I think about it, yeah. It changed the way I viewed my parents.”

“Your mum too?”

“Oh yeah. I…I got angry at her for being a doormat.”

River winces.

“I know. I sound awful.”

She blows out a breath, making her lips ripple. “I think parents have a way of fucking up their kids, yeah?” She sighs, leaning closer. “I can’t judge you, Cleo, because I don’t know what you went through.”