what it’s like to have someone turn up out of the blue, someone you’ve dreamed of your whole fucking life. The magical father, the guy you dreamed would show up on a big fucking chariot and whisk you away with declarations of love and devotion and finally make you feel like someone who matters. I get what it feels like when it all turns out to be bullshit, when he turns out to be someone who doesn’t give a shit, not really. When it turns out your dreams were all for nothing, and you’re still the same sad kid without a dad.”
“Stop,” she said. “Please stop, Carl.”
“But your dad isn’t that man, Katie. Not like mine was. He’s just a guy who fucked up, who didn’t know what to do for the best, who doesn’t know how to make things right between two daughters he thinks the fucking world of.”
“Stop!” she said. “This isn’t how it is, Carl. This isn’t who he is. He didn’t want me. He never fucking wanted me!”
Her lip was trembling. It broke my heart.
“I thought he would be someone. I thought he would have a million answers, a million sorries. He didn’t even say sorry, Carl, not once. He came and dragged me out of my home, just to show me how wonderful his fucking life was, how wonderful his other fucking kids were, and then he’d drop me back again with a few poxy words about see you next time. Every fucking week, over and over, one long cycle of gloating and disappointment. I cried every weekend, Carl, every fucking weekend.” She stared out of the window, eyes glistening as a family with two young kids passed us by with a shopping trolley. “The guy’s an asshole and I want nothing to do with him. I want nothing to do with any of them.”
“But you’re doing it, Katie, you’re right there. I’m so proud of you, you have no idea how proud I am, that the spirited young woman in her bite me, baby t-shirt turned out to be such a talented, mature, dedicated, professional member of our internship programme.” I sighed. “And David’s proud, too. I promise you, Katie, he’s so proud of you. He’s always been proud of you.”
Her shoulders turned rigid. “No! He hasn’t! He’s not!”
“He is,” I said. “I’ve known him for twenty years. He’s the only person who ever gave me a shot. The only person who took the time to get to know me when I was a nobody. I know him, Katie, he’s like the father I always dreamt of.”
“You have him then! He didn’t do shit for me! Didn’t take any time for me when I was a nobody! He wasn’t there, Carl, he ditched my mum and abandoned her, abandoned us, just to rock up again like the big fucking I am and parade me around a life I wasn’t good enough for! He didn’t want my mum and he didn’t want me. Rubbing my face in a life I could have had if I was good enough just makes him a cunt, Carl, it doesn’t make him a fucking messiah. I know he gave you a shot, but he’s still an asshole who messed my mum’s life up, still an asshole that didn’t give a shit about me.”
“That’s what you think?”
She glared at me, and the first tears spilled, rolling down her cheeks as her breath caught in her throat. “That’s what I know.” She let out a little sob and it panged in my gut. “Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just let sleeping dogs lie? A couple of months and I’m out. Harrison Gables and I’m done. I never have to see him again. Any of them.”
“Because my dad was a cunt, Katie. Because even when he’d fucked me over, gone to prison and cast me aside like I meant nothing, I still wrote to him. Every week I wrote to him. Every week I prayed he’d write back. Even when I knew he was an asshole, that he didn’t give a shit about me, even then I still wrote to him and still cried every night because he didn’t write back.”
“We both have cunts for fathers.” She tried to laugh through the tears. “Maybe we should join a support group.”
“But you don’t,” I said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You have a father that made mistakes, but he loves you. Your father loves you.”