my hand, rubbing it for emphasis. ‘I loved her and I loved you. I felt lucky that she’d allowed me to accompany her on her way. I never wanted to make her feel uncomfortable. I wanted to protect her and look after you. And if that meant not asking any questions, then that was a small sacrifice to make.’
But that didn’t add up entirely in my mind. ‘But you left us.’
‘I didn’t want to,’ he said. ‘Your mother was so aggrieved about the effect that her illness was having on us, she was going to leave herself. I wouldn’t hear of it. I persuaded her to stay but I said I’d clear off. You were sixteen then, going on twenty-five. Out on the town night after night, with that young hellcat Maggie Haines. You always were far too grown-up looking for your own good. And you did all right, didn’t you? Made it into university and never looked back.’
‘I always thought you left us. That’s another thing you kept back.’
He shook his head. ‘I think your mother thought she was doing me a favour. Releasing me from the difficulties of life with her and her depression. But I never felt like that. I loved her. But I didn’t want to be a burden either. That’s why I went. And I think she found some kind of peace with Dan. Their temperaments were more compatible. They’d been through the same kind of illness. I think she ended up quite happy with him.’
‘Like you’re happy with Janet?’ The petulance in my voice was hard to disguise.
‘My life with Janet is different. Janet’s stable and strong. I feel like we’re on an equal footing. She’s upfront and honest. You know that what you see is what you get. Your mum was always partly a mystery to me. Sometimes I felt like I was bewitched. Our life was full of ups and downs. But passionate too.’
I didn’t want him going into details of the ‘passion’ bit. I said, ‘I never thought we were an ordinary family. And now I know we weren’t.’
‘Every family has a secret,’ said my dad. ‘And the secret is that they are not like any other family.’
‘Profound,’ I said.
He made an attempt at a smile. ‘Not mine. Nicked it off someone else.’
I sniffed and dabbed my nose with his hanky. ‘True though.’
He pulled his knees up and made to stand. ‘And now you have to forget about it. For your mum’s sake. It’s what she wanted.’
‘Actually,’ I said and unfolded the crumpled-up ball, ‘I’m not entirely sure that that’s true. Look.’ I spread the certificate over the grass and turned it over, directing Dad to the scrawl. ‘Do you know what that means? South East, F8.’
He blinked at the crumpled sheet. ‘I’ve never seen it, you know.’ I looked at him, taking in the tired features and messed-up hair. I wanted to hug him but I couldn’t. I just said, ‘But do you know what the letters mean?’
‘It’s not a postcode?’
I shrugged. ‘Dunno.’
He took it out of my hands for a closer look. ‘Coordinates?’
I sat back. ‘Mum’s got a map of some sort on the wall.’
‘I doubt it means anything.’
‘Probably not.’
‘You’re going to have a look aren’t you?’
‘I’m going straight there now.’
I stood up and gestured towards the limp piece of paper in his hands.
‘Do you want company?’ he said, handing it over with some reluctance. He wanted to destroy it, I think.
I took it and said ‘No. She might have been trying to tell me something before she, you know, died. She said something about a box, though I thought she meant my book, and I didn’t let her tell me. I …’ Words were becoming futile in the face of unfurling guilt. ‘I think I should do this on my own.’
He moved onto all fours then stood up and put his hands on his hips. ‘Well I’m here if you need me.’
‘I know,’ I told him. And I did.
When I got back to Mum’s house it felt like I was returning to the scene of a crime where something violent and unwholesome had occurred. The house let me in, but it felt violated. Ripped out its heart. Changed the memories.
I didn’t spend long downstairs and leapt up the stairway two steps at a time.
I noticed my grubby fingerprints on the doorframe as I entered Mum’s old bedroom. This time I flicked the lights on so I could clearly view the map on the wall.