𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 ᵖᵉᵃᵏʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵈᵉʳˢ

15

Delilah walked over the grass, holding Reggie's hand as she tried to hold back her tears. She looked at Tommy who was standing beside John and Arthur. He looked back at her.

A harsh look was sent from the girl over to her father.

"Come on," Ada whispered, rubbing her back. "Your mother wouldn't want you being sad on her funeral" she added.

The two girls placed a white rose down beside the casket that held Francis. "Goodbye mum," she whispered. "At least one of us got away"

Polly pursed her lips into a straight line, pulling the young girl into a hug.

Tommy stepped forward, clasping his hands together. He cleared his throat. "As your all aware, two weeks ago, my wife Francis. Was shot inside the Garrison whilst we were celebrating our daughter, Delilah's birthday." he said.

"It was not Francis who was supposed to die that night, it was me" Tommy nodded. "Francis had a good heart, she loved everyone. And she was taken far too early"

Delilah took a deep breath and turned, walking toward the cars. She threw her hand over her mouth, silencing the cries. She could not bare to stand and watch whilst her father stood almost emotionless whilst they buried her mother.

1 week later

Tommy sat alone in the betting den, a drink in hand. Delilah watched from the door as he spoke to himself. She had realised that she was slowly losing him. She had also realised that he had lied to Francis that night in the Garrison, about Grace. He and the barmaid had been carrying out a romance, that nobody knew about.

And despite the death of Francis, he was continuing that. But not because he wished to, but because he felt alone.

Delilah leaned forward, the wood underneath her making a noise. "You never were good at sneaking around" her father spoke, looking at the wall. "Neither were you, i always knew you were sneaking around with that barmaid" she crossed her arms.

He snapped his head toward her. "You disgust me, father"

He sat forward. "What am i supposed to do, eh?" he asked. "You couldn't of waited any longer before you started shagging that whore" she laughed.

"Your mother is gone, Delilah" he shouted. "She's gone. She's not coming back. Do you expect me to wait around, miserable my whole life"

This time, his words did hurt her, but she was angry. "You don't have to wait around, dad, you've been miserable since the second you came back from France. And you always will be miserable" she hissed.

He wiped his mouth.

"But tell me one thing, what is so hard about you actually being a father to me. Ever since she died you've basically neglected me" she raised her voice. "Tell me, what is it"

"Look in the mirror, Delilah, you might find the answer" he said, filling up his glass.

Delilah scoffed. "What is that supposed to mean"

"It means that you look almost identical to your mother" he shouted. "And it hurts because you look like her, you act like her. You are your mothers daughter, Delilah"

"That's not my fault" she shouted back.

"It was your name that was on that bullet, not hers. Why can't you own up to something for once" She asked, pushing her ginger hair over her shoulder.