and stared into the blackness outside. She liked the dark, always had since she was a child. There was something very comforting about seeing the moon against the inky sky. Her mum had nicknamed her Selene after the Greek goddess of the moon, and on her fifteenth birthday she’d given her a rose gold necklace with a crescent moon that had a tiny diamond set in the middle. It was Morgan’s most treasured possession and the only thing she had apart from one photograph to remind her of her mum now. Sipping the wine until she felt relaxed enough to switch off her busy mind, she placed the glass on the floor and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift and a dark fog settle over it.
Hammering on the front door to the flats woke her with a start and Morgan blinked awake. It was still dark outside. Who could that be? As far as she knew the other two flats in the building were still being refurbished and hadn’t been rented out yet. She stood up, rubbing her eyes. Grabbing her phone from the kitchen side, she checked to see if she had any missed calls, but there weren’t any. It was almost one a.m. Keeping hold of her phone, Morgan opened the door to her flat and crossed the large entrance, barefoot, to the front door, where she peered through the spyhole and let out a gasp, dropping her phone. She wondered how he’d found her. The pounding on the door resumed again and echoed around the hallway.
With a deep breath, she unbolted the door and pulled it open.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘Hey, Moggy, is that the way to greet your old dad?’
‘How did you find me, Stan?’
‘It’s not rocket science, Moggy, a friend of a friend said you were living around here. It’s cold out, aren’t you going to invite me in?’
‘No.’
She pushed the door, but he was too fast. His foot was already there, stopping it from shutting.
‘Seriously, go away.’
‘Aw, come on. I’ve got nowhere to go, just let me in until the morning. I haven’t got enough money to stay anywhere.’
‘Go back to Carol.’
‘I can’t, she threw me out.’
She shook her head. ‘I wondered how long it would take her to see sense.’
‘Please, I fell over, I’ve hurt my head and feel dizzy. It’s dark along that road.’
Waving her hands to activate the motion sensor hall light, Morgan looked at her father’s face. He did have a graze on the side of his head and some scratches on one hand, but they didn’t look fresh. They were a couple of hours old. His hair was fully grey and he looked more dishevelled than the last time she’d seen him. It had been at least a year. They’d rarely spoken in the five years since her mum’s death. She’d blamed him for everything.
Against her better judgement, she opened the door and took a step back.
‘You’re a good girl, Moggy, you always were. Feisty, but kind.’
‘You can come in for tonight on one condition.’
‘What’s that, love?’
‘You don’t call me Moggy. I’m not a flipping cat. It’s Morgan.’
He lifted his fingers to his lips and mimed zipping them shut. ‘Sorry, Morgan.’
She pointed towards her open flat door and watched him stumble towards it, the smell of cheap whisky permeating the air around him. It was so strong she waved her hand in front of her nose to waft it away. A sinking feeling inside made her wonder if she was going to regret this dutiful act of kindness tomorrow.
Six
After dropping Morgan off, Ben had driven straight home to his empty four-bedroomed house. It was untidy, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d dusted. Maybe it was time to get his act together; Cindy had been gone over three years now. Her stuff was still all around the house; he hadn’t been able to touch it, although he had moved the awful faceless figurines she’d insisted on collecting. They were the only things he’d boxed up so he didn’t have to look at them. When she’d been alive the urge to draw faces on them whenever they argued had been strong and difficult to suppress. He’d managed to resist, though, and always imagined this small feat had earned him brownie points with whoever was watching over him. Not enough points to save Cindy though.
He felt sad and in dire need of a treble shot of something strong. Suicides always left him this way. No matter how