'Daddy, Daddy Dear' by Elisa Hill

Why was she waiting? Was she stupid? He had no interest in her; had not bothered with her since she was a child. Why the request for contact now.? She knew her mum would be furious with her for even agreeing to meet him. Was it because her mum was jealous and insecure? Frightened of losing her to him or was it really as she said. That he would let her down again, as always, without fail.
She had to know what he wanted; could not pass the chance by that he really was a changed man. That man who he had been, that terrible angry man, the one in her memories; could not be real, could he? She had asked for the chance to hear his side of it. No human being could be completely bad. He must have some redeeming features? Hard to find but they must be there.
She looked at the large station clock. Nearly time. Her heart was beating fast. She was feeling a bit breathless. Her head was pounding. Her asthma started, without fail every time he was around Her mind went back to another train journey. She was with her thirteen year old sister thirty years ago. They felt dread as the train pulled into the station. They saw him waiting there. That woman standing next to him. Why couldn’t he have given them some space and told them in the car. He introduced them with no warning.
She had known there was a another woman. Last time he had seen them he had taken them to his house and her sister had spotted some women’s shoes She had wanted to joke that he was a cross dresser; but hadn’t dared. She knew the way some women’s mind work. She was stating her claim to him. In effect saying," You may have a prior claim, but he is mine now." Later they went to a play, but instead of joining them, he had spent most of the time on the phone. She had heard him. stood around the corner where he could not see her, ashamed to hear his tone, playful and flirtatious. It was sickening, doubly so when she knew how her mum would feel. She had kept the secret from her mum and her sister. They both secretly hoped he would come back. She hoped he would not, as she had seen the cruelty he had inflicted and experienced some too.
When he appeared at the end of the platform he was stiff and formal, still with those cold grey eyes. She sighed, would she ever greet her own so coldly? She should have remembered, prepared herself.
They went for a coffee and he talked about how it had been for him. "So you want to hear my side of it. Well, I felt unloved. I was just the provider. You guys don’t care about me even now; like then, you just want something from me, I have nothing to give you. Your mother drained it all from me. I thought it best to have no contact with you as you needed your mother to support you when you had your own children."
She was astounded, confused, he had never been so open about personal things or emotions and then she realised he had been coached, rehearsed every word spoken as it was approved by someone who was not there.
" No,” she stuttered. “No” she wanted to scream out. “We all loved you, not just because you brought money home, we loved you because .....,"
As always his response was anger She was not obeying his rules, not responding as he had anticipated she would.
Again more from the prepared script. "When I had a stomach ulcer your mother showed no concern for me" He paused. He must have been amazed that he himself had spoken those lies. Confused now, the shutters started to go up. He stiffened up again. The coldness appeared once more in those grey eyes.
“What do you want to achieve from this?” she asked him.
" Achieve, ACHIEVE......" He almost spat at her, furiously angry now. Fear rose up in her and with it perfect clarity. She could see now exactly what he wanted. He was transparent now. So angry he could not hide anything. She sighed. She had wanted so much to see him again. Wanted him to be the playful man he was with her as a child. Getting down on the floor with her to play in his best suit. Her mum had always said there was a special connection between them. Forged in those times. Her mum had even said she would not attend her wedding so he could be there.
She looked at him, who was still struggling to suppress an emotion; which one? Anger? She could not tell. She knew she was not sticking to the script that he was coached for and that it was throwing him off. But she had to know, she felt desperate to get the words out, knowing it was probably the last chance, ever...
She peered closely at his face, trying to see his real self. The child part of her was scared at the rage. The adult part curious about such anger, directed at her, but really at her mother. "It’s me you’re talking to, not Mum. But is it really you I’m talking too or is it Chris?" He went red, so riled now at being found out. She instinctively leaned back to get as far away as her chair could reach.
"Thank you for coming," she said. The memories of childhood flooded back. Memories of the fear: fear he would kill her and Mum. He had no control of himself. To her as a child, always on the edge, of an explosion, their whole lives as a family had been governed by those moods. A good mood was a happy day,. A bad mood and you kept as low a profile as possible – stay quiet, never spoke unless spoken too. Fear had been her most constant companion as a child.
She had struggled and struggled to understand him over the years, hoping as she had become a parent herself to understand him better and as an adult she had only ever seen him with a child’s perspective. But as an adult it had just become more puzzling. Was she just supposed to put him out of her mind? She had tried and couldn’t. How could she resolve this. How could she make a relationship with this stranger, this angry scary man who had missed most of her life.
" What’s the point?" she said as she stood up. There was no strength left in her , but she wanted to be the one to walk away this time. She wanted to make it her choice this time. He stood up, not to be outdone, always the one for the dramatic flourish,. He turned his back without a word. Emotions flooded in as she watched him walk away. Her need of him dissipated with every step. As he turned the corner without a backward glance she breathed out. The pain was gone. She was free!