Chapter Twenty-Two
In my room, I pull boxes from the back of my wardrobe.
Boxes I couldn’t bear to throw out, yet whose contents I didn’t think I’d ever want to see again.
Spending the afternoon with Tiago and hearing about the loss of his dad, stirred up feelings about mine.
I’m conflicted by the lies Dad told, and the love I still feel.
Not to mention in Manchester, there’s a whole second family grieving alongside us.
When I consider his secret children, them waking up without their dad, my chest tightens.
No matter what he hid, Dad was always there for me and Mum, which is what makes the duplicity so much worse.
He made sure I was trained in martial arts so I could protect myself in a world that often felt hostile to me.
I didn’t make it easy on him, fought going to those sessions, but he patiently waited out every protest and got me in the car and stood on the sidelines, for each and every class.
He taught me chess. Bridge. Cards. Dice games.
Telling me that these skills would help me later, I’d have the tools to play and it would be a way to meet other people whose brain worked the way mine does.
We took hikes, went on beach holidays in remote places where it was quiet.
And when he went away for work, he always came back with a new book for my collection.
How could a man who lifted me up like that hide such a stunning secret?
He loved me, I know he did. He showed up for me and for Mum in all the ways that mattered, which is why it is still impossible to reconcile the two faces of him.
In the silence of my bedroom, I let the tears fall as I rummage in the box.
Today’s tears aren’t for me, as I flick through photographs of us camping, Dad teaching me how to find the right type of wood for a fire.
When I come to the photo of our first and last fishing trip a shock of laughter spills out.
Dad soon learned that there was no world in which I’d be taking a flip-flopping fish from a hook without screaming bloody murder.
We never did go fishing again. Who will teach his kids all the life skills he taught me?
It’s a tragedy they won’t get the upbringing I did.
And no matter what – it’s not fair on them.