The birthday toast was almost over when Cassie stood up, her glass still in her hand. I thought she was going to say something nice about her dad. Instead, she looked straight at Tracy and let it all out. “You like going out with a real man, do you, Tracy?
”
The room went quiet. I tried to stop her, told my mate to take her home, but she wasn’t done. She turned to me, her voice shaking. “This real man, he didn’t cop off with me.
It wasn’t a one-night stand. I was a 15-year-old girl, and he paid me for sex. ”
I felt the floor drop out from under me. Everyone was staring.
My dad—the man we’d just sung happy birthday to—stood there with his mouth open, and for once, he didn’t have a clever line. The party broke up fast. Kids were sent upstairs, people made excuses, and suddenly it was just me and my mum in the kitchen. She was crying.
I hadn’t seen her cry like that in years. “You do believe me, don’t you? ” she asked. “Course I believe you,” I said.
She told me everything. When she was fifteen, she’d needed money. He was a young squaddie back then, out with his mates. It was easy money, she said.
A hundred quid. She never wanted to tell me. She’d kept her gob shut for decades, watching everyone treat him like he was God’s gift. But the way he spoke to her at that hotel—like she was something on the bottom of his shoe—that was the last straw.
“You were just a kid,” I said. “You were Hope’s age. ”
“I lied to you,” she whispered. “That doesn’t matter.
You’re my mum. I love you. ”
She hugged me like she was afraid I’d disappear. I told her she hadn’t done anything wrong.
But I knew my dad had a lot to answer for. The next day, he came to find me. He wanted to talk, wanted to explain. I told him I didn’t know how I felt about dating a bloke who pays for sex with underage girls.
“Look, I’m not some paedo,” he said. “It was a mistake. I was a young squaddie, me mates goaded me into it. I’m not proud.
We all make mistakes when we’re that age. ”
“Fifteen,” I said. “Isn’t that what they all say? ”
He sighed.
“We’ll talk about it later. ”
But later came too soon. He showed up at the house again, all charm and apology. He told me he was a decent fella, that he was trying to protect my mum, that if he’d known she was fifteen he never would have touched her.
He swore he wasn’t the man she thought he was. “She told me how you spoke to her at the hotel,” I said. He blamed it on shame and guilt, said seeing her brought it all back. Then he begged me to give him another chance.
“Let me talk to her. I’ll apologize. Just give me a chance to prove I’m not the man she thinks I am. ”
I didn’t say yes.
I didn’t say no. I just let him back into the house. When the girls were sent upstairs, he stood in the middle of the living room and made his speech. He was sorry.
Truly ashamed. He knew he probably didn’t deserve it, but he wanted to be part of Tyrone’s life. He said it would only work with me on board. He wasn’t asking for forgiveness.
He just wanted us to draw a line under it all so he could have a relationship with his son. I looked at my dad—the man who’d raised me, the man who’d been at every birthday, every school play—and I told him it was up to me. “Okay,” I said. “Thank you,” he breathed.
“You won’t regret this. ”
But the relief didn’t last. The truth had a way of coming out anyway. And when it did, he dropped all the sweet talk.
He found me alone and his eyes were cold. “I can’t believe I ever went with a dirty little skank like you, let alone pay for it,” he spat. “And you try and mess things between me and my son again, and I’ll kill you. ”
I stood there, stunned.
The man who’d just begged for a second chance had turned into a stranger. And I knew then—there was no drawing a line under any of it. The only question was what I was going to do next.
