Cock & Bull - Laura Barnard Page 0,59

woman has taken off her shoes, her billowy skirt blowing in the wind. We’re outside for God’s sakes.

Clooney nods at her as he passes.

‘I don’t get it, Mum. How can you be happy about all of this?’

She sighs and looks to the ground. ‘I’ll be honest with you. At first I was heartbroken when I realised your father had meant it when he’d said he didn’t believe in monogamy. I’d been brought up to believe in marriage or at least faithfulness. Thinking of someone cheating made me think of a lonely, miserable life without him. Instead, I just saw a little less of him.

‘What I came to realise was that I loved your father unconditionally. That wherever he went, he always came back to me at the end of the night. He still loved me just as much. His heart is just big enough to love other people too.’

I shake my head. It’s crazy. There’s no way she can be this rational.

‘When the first woman fell pregnant, I was scared I was going to lose him, but still he stayed. Still loved me more than anyone else.’

‘But how can you accept that he sleeps with other people? It’s gross.’

She shrugs. ‘It’s happened less and less as he’s gotten older. And now we have a huge extended family. More love and light in the world because of your father’s heart. How can we be angry at that?’

I scoff. ‘Very bloody easily.’

She rests her arm on my shoulder. ‘Don’t carry hate in your heart, Phoebe. It brings nothing but darkness. We always tried to teach you girls to accept everyone for who they truly are.’

I sigh, pushing her away. ‘Yes, well, I didn’t think at the time that would include my father dicking around.’

She sighs, her brown eyes boring into me. ‘You’ve always been different to us. I always assumed you were like my mum, but now I know Dad’s other daughter’s, I realise that it’s from his side of the family too.’

‘You mean… some of them are like me?’ I hate how hopeful I feel. Despise myself for it, but I can’t help but finally feel like I might belong somewhere. I wonder if any of them have the gift too.

‘Yes.’ She nods, smiling fondly. ‘They’ve always known about you and the others. Now some of them want to meet you.’

I close my eyes, a tear escaping. Even though I like the thought of being similar to someone, I still don’t want to meet them. I want to just pretend like they don’t exist. Ella and me have always been so close. This could change that. She could prefer them.

‘I can’t, Mum. I’m happy you’re happy. But I don’t want to meet them and bring complete strangers into my life, just because there’s some blood link between us.’

She grasps my shoulder softly. ‘They’re not distant cousins, Phoebe, they’re your sisters.’

‘Half-sisters,’ I correct her.

‘Just think about it, hmm?’ She smiles, probably already sending a hopeful prayer to the universe fairies for me to change my mind.

I nod begrudgingly. ‘I’ll try.’

‘Now come and say goodbye to your father. We’ve decided to get on the road early.’

‘You’re not staying the night?’ I can’t help but sound disappointed. They might be kooky adulterant weirdos, but they’re still my weirdos. Sometimes I’d just like to feel more important than the latest rally.

‘Afraid not, love. We’ve just had a phone call. They’ve started early.’

I nod and walk back towards the pub, resigned to the fact we’ll always be their second priority.

‘So, Clooney is a lovely man.’

Here we go.

‘Yes, he’s nice.’

She smirks. ‘Something happening between you two?’ She looks so hopeful.

I shrug. ‘Why would you say that?’

‘Just the way he looks at you.’ She smiles dreamily.

‘What?’ I scoff. ‘With arrogance?’

‘Like you hung the moon.’

She used to say Dad looked at her like she hung the moon. Now look at them.

I say goodbye to Dad. I hug him, despite wanting to also punch him in the face.

He squeezes me and whispers in my ear, ‘Forgive me, Petal. I never meant to hurt you.’

‘Well you did,’ I whisper back. ‘But I still love you.’

He leans back and smiles. ‘Thank you.’

He’s just getting in the car when he stops and shakes his head.

‘I almost forgot.’

‘Oh yes,’ Mum says, as if also remembering.

Me and Ella exchange an eye roll.

‘More illegitimate children you’ve forgotten about?’ Ella asks, hands on her hip.

He chuckles. ‘No, it’s a better surprise than that, believe it or not.’

I sigh. ‘Jesus, spit it out, Dad. I’ve had just about