Dad, please dont come round any more. Every time you go, Mum starts bawling, and she keeps at it until the suns up.
Ill drift off, wake up, drift off again, and shes still sniffling. I ask her, Mum, why are you crying? Because of Dad?
She tells me shes not crying, just got a runny nose from a cold. Im old enough to know a cold never makes your voice sound like youre sobbing.
Dad John was sitting at a little table in a café in Manchester, stirring his coffee in a tiny white mug that was already gone cold.
Emily didnt even touch the icecream in front of her. It sat on a plate like a piece of art colourful truffles covered with a little leaf and a cherry, all drizzled in chocolate. Any sixyearold would have swooned, but Emily had already, last Friday, decided she needed a proper chat with him.
Dad stayed quiet for ages, then finally said:
So what are we supposed to do, love? Stop seeing each other altogether? How am I supposed to live then?
Emily wrinkled her cute little nose its just like Mums, a bit potatoshaped thought a moment, then replied:
No, Dad. I cant do without you either. Heres what well do: call Mum and tell her youll pick me up from nursery every Friday.
Well have a walk together, and if you fancy a cuppa or a bit of icecream, we can pop into a café. Ill fill you in on how Mum and I manage things.
She thought it over again and, a minute later, added:
And if you want to see Mum, Ill film her on my phone each week and send you the clips. Sound good?
Dad gave his wise little girl a soft smile and a nod:
Alright, thatll be our new plan, sweetheart.
Emily let out a sigh of relief, picked up her icecream, but she wasnt done yet. Shed got to say the most important bit, and as the chocolatecoated truffles left tiny stubble marks on her nose, she licked them off, turned serious, almost adultlike.
Almost a lady now, thinking about caring for a man even if hes a bit older. Dads birthday had been last week, so Emily had drawn him a big 28 card at nursery, colouring it carefully.
She pushed her brows together and said:
I think you ought to get married
And, with a generous stretch of the truth, added:
Youre not that old yet
Dad chuckled at her goodnatured gesture:
Youll say youre not that old too
Emily, full of enthusiasm, went on:
Not that old, not that old! Look, Uncle Steve, whos turned up at Mums twice already, even a bit balding
She lifted a hand, smoothing the soft curls on her palm, then realised that Dads sharp stare meant shed let slip Mums secret.
She pressed both palms to her lips, eyes widening as if terrified and confused.
Uncle Steve? Which Uncle Steve keeps popping round? Mums boss? Dad blurted, almost shouting across the whole café.
I dont know, Dad Emily stammered, a bit rattled by his outburst. He brings us sweets and a cake sometimes.
She hesitated whether to spill the secret about Mums flowers to her dad, who seemed rather unpredictable.
Dad crossed his fingers on the table and stared at them for a long while. Emily sensed he was about to make a very important decision right then.
She, as a budding young woman, didnt rush him with conclusions. She already guessed that men can be setintheirways and need a gentle nudge preferably from the woman they love most.
Silence stretched, then Dad finally sighed, lifted his head and said If Emily were a bit older shed have caught the drama of his tone, the kind of tragic question Othello asks Desdemona.
But she didnt know Othello or Desdemona; she was just gathering life experience, watching people laugh and worry over the small stuff.
So Dad said:
Come on, love. Its getting late, Ill take you home and have a word with Mum.
Emily didnt ask what hed discuss, just sensed it was important and kept finishing her icecream.
She realised what he was about to bring up mattered more than any tasty treat, so she planted her spoon on the table, slid off her chair, wiped her sticky lips with the back of her hand, sniffed, and, looking straight at Dad, said:
Im ready. Lets go.
They didnt stroll home; they practically ran. Dad was the one sprinting, but he held Emilys hand so tightly she felt like a flag in the wind.
When they burst into the blocks entrance, the lift doors shut slowly, taking a neighbour up a floor. Dad looked a bit bewildered at Emily, then she turned upwards and asked:
So? What are we waiting for? Whos coming? Its only the seventh floor.
Dad scooped her up and rushed up the stairs.
When Mum finally opened the door, Dad blurted out:
You cant do that! Whos this Steve? I love you, and we have Emily
He kept Emily in his arms, hugged Mum, and Emily wrapped both of them around their necks, closing her eyes because the adults were kissing.
Thats how it goes sometimes two bewildered grownups soothed by a little girl who loves them both, and they love each other, but pride and old grudges linger.
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