Chapter 44 Damon
Damon
I disappear down another online rabbit hole and stare at the mugshot of my dad that the police released to the media.
It’s clearer than the one taken in the back of the prison van.
We share the same oval-shaped eyes, clefts in our chins, slight bends in our noses and low hairlines.
I close the page, worried that, from here on in, when I look in a mirror, all I’ll see is his reflection.
Dad’s past convictions tell me why his appearances in my childhood were so sporadic. Much of his time was spent behind bars. Mum must have thought she was doing the right thing by keeping this from me.
The noise of my ringing phone distracts me, but I don’t answer when I see it’s a withheld number.
Instead, I think back to the elderly man hurling abuse at me on the landing of the flats where I once lived.
Now I understand he was referring to my dad when he told me, ‘Bad apples never fall far from trees.’ Ralf Lister has made me guilty by association.
Everything is becoming a little out of focus.
I put my phone back down on the bedside table and lie back.
My hollow stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten at all today.
But I’m too exhausted to even order myself a Deliveroo.
I must have drifted off to sleep again because I wake up later with a start, aware I have company.
All four of my hallucinations are here in front of me, together for the first time.
But there has been a sharp decline in their appearances, which I wouldn’t have thought possible.
Chunks of Mum’s hair have been burned to the scalp and the red marks and soot on her arms are now bright blisters that extend to her hands and face.
Callum’s eyes are wide and panicked and he coughs as if he is choking on something.
The boy Mum holds is so pale he is almost translucent.
His fingertips have blackened as if dipped in ink.
Daisy’s appearance remains so damaged, so grotesque, I want to cry when I look at her.
‘I’m so, so sorry for what he did,’ I say. ‘Please tell me how I can help you?’
Callum is the first to reply, but a combination of static and unintelligible words come from his black hole of a mouth. ‘Oodis’ is the only word I can make out, but still, it makes no sense. ‘Oodis,’ he says once again.
‘I don’t understand,’ I reply. But I desperately want to.
Callum moves towards me and I unconsciously shift a little further back. Daisy is the next to edge closer to me. My phone vibrates again, and when I glance at the screen, I realise I’ve missed five more calls from the same withheld number. There’s also a text message from Melissa.
You’re a lying, selfish fucking arsehole, she’s written.
I look up and I’m alone again.
I’m about to respond with why? to Melissa when I remember what I’ve done to provoke her wrath.
I had an appointment at the fertility clinic this afternoon to make another donation.
That’s who the withheld calls were from.
I know I should rearrange the appointment for tomorrow instead, but the way my ribs hurt and where my head is at, I doubt I’ll even manage to become aroused, let alone climax.
So instead, I shower, get dressed and make my way downstairs to the designated parking area under the flats, and prepare to drive to Melissa’s house and beg her for forgiveness.
I climb into the car, slip the seat belt on with one hand while closing the door with the other. But I don’t get the chance to shut it fully as someone grabs it and yanks it open.
Before I even turn my head, I know it’s him. The man who threatened to kill me a month ago. And before I can defend myself, his hands clamp around my head as he tries to drag me out of my car.