Chapter Twenty Three.

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Author's Note: Why hello there. Another week has passed, so it's time for the next chapter. YAY! :D
I hope you all enjoy it.

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The song for this chapter is 'Let It Be' by The Beatles.

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Chapter Twenty Three.
Madeline’s Point of View.

The remainder of the week had passed rather uneventfully. The main reason for this had been the fact that Jenny had been suspended for the remaining three days of the week, as had Ellie. Without Jenny around, everything was much calmer, though without Ellie, things had grown slightly dull by the beginning of the second day of their suspension. Everyone seemed to be on tenterhooks, half expecting the two girls to come out from nowhere and begin to have another catfight. Though to be honest, it would have been a lot more entertaining to be at school if that had happened.

I had never expected Ellie to be the aggressive type- she always seemed so together if not slightly hyper at times. I had to admit, it had been a little scary to see her so protective, especially as I had not been expecting it. I recalled the fight in my head, remembered the feeling of being labelled as white trash. I swallowed, rubbing one of my hands over my pasty pale face and bringing it back so that I could rake my fingers through my messy blonde hair.

A sigh fell from my slightly parted lips as the thoughts faded from my mind, and I focused on putting one foot in front of the other as a small voice cut through my thoughts.

“Where are we going Maddy?”

“I already told you Will. We’re going to meet daddy.”

“We don’t have a daddy.”

I looked down at William’s confused face and let out a soft sigh. I crouched down in front of my brother so that I was at his eye level. I brushed my fingers through his soft hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

“We do have a daddy. He just hasn’t been around for a while.”

“Why not?”

I sighed again, not entirely sure how to answer his question. Why did kids have to ask so many questions, anyway? Sometimes they were just too curious for their own good. I straightened up, taking William’s hand in my own as I pushed open the door to Costa Coffee. Rather than trying to think of an answer, I figured that if I distracted William then he would forget about it soon enough. I hoped so, anyway.

As soon as we were inside the warmth of the familiar cafe, my nostrils were filled with the welcoming smell of hot coffee and muffins and pastries. It was a very pleasant attack of the senses. I took a moment to inhale the beautiful scents before I glanced around the cosy room. This time, my father was the one who was waiting for me. He stood up when he saw me, and I lifted my hand in a brief wave before looking down toward William.

“You see that man over there?”

William’s gaze followed my pointing finger, and he slowly nodded his head before looking up at me.

“That’s our daddy.”

A frown creased my brother’s otherwise smooth forehead, and he shook his head at me.

“We don’t have a daddy.”

He repeated adamantly, lifting one of his small feet and slamming it into the ground as his bottom lip quivered. How could a three year old be so Goddamned stubborn?
I held out my arms, and lifted William up, resting him on my hip. I leaned my head forward and kissed his forehead, holding his chin gently in my free hand to keep him looking at me.

“He is our daddy, William. We’re going to go and meet him, okay?”

William stared back at me for a moment, and then sighed in that way that only three year olds could. He nodded his head, and I kissed his forehead again.

“Good boy.”

I turned back in the direction of our father, and began to walk toward him, nerves fluttering in my stomach as an anxious smile flitted onto my face. I shifted William onto my other hip, and he wound his arms around my neck. I could tell that he wasn’t too happy about the entire situation. To be honest, I didn’t blame him. After all, he had never met our father before today. As he had expressed, he was under the impression that we didn’t even have a father. Which was the reason I was bringing him here today. I didn’t want him to grow up thinking that he didn’t have a dad. Thinking that no one other than me cared about him. I mean, mum had been rather pleasant this past week, but I found myself thinking that something was going to make her crack. Just one little thing, and I knew she would return to her habits. After all, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

I leaned in to give dad a peck on the cheek before I moved to lower William down onto one of the wooden chairs. However, he clung to my arms, his little fingernails digging into the soft material of my coat. I sighed, and seated myself down with William on my lap. On the table, there were two large glasses of hot chocolate, and a smaller bottle of innocent coconut, banana and pineapple smoothie with a straw poking out from the neck of the bottle. I found myself with a smile on my face as I looked toward the two muffins that were also on the table; one large, and one small. The man was trying, bless him.

“Hi, dad.”

I said, my voice coming out strangely hoarse. My father blinked at me, and the corners of his lips pulled upward into a genuine smile as his gaze flickered from William, to me, and then back again. I watched as my father’s eyes filled with an emotion that I had not witnessed in anyone close to me for a long time. It was love. He had never met his son before today, and yet he loved him. Yet my mother, who had given birth to William, who had seen him almost every day for his entire life so far, could not bring herself to love the adorable child that she had carried for nine months. William was extremely wonderful and intelligent, and our mother, our own flesh and blood didn’t care. She simply didn’t care. About neither me nor William. It was odd to think about families like Kyle’s; the kind of family that I craved. I longed for that love and affection that family members shared.

With a sigh, I tentatively reached out and pulled the smoothie toward William and me. Leaning my head down toward William’s, I spoke.

“Have a drink, Will.”

My brother’s hands eagerly shot out, his small palms closing around the plastic bottle. He latched onto the straw, sucking on it greedily as though it was the best tasting drink that he had ever had. To be honest that was probably the case. I sunk my teeth into my lower lip, nibbling at a loose strip of skin as I pulled my own drink toward me. I paused for a moment, blinking across at my father.

“Thanks for the drinks and the muffins.”

Of course, drinks and muffins would not make up for the fact that our father had been absent for almost four years, but I supposed that he had to start somewhere. It would take time to rebuild our relationship. Whatever happened, I knew that I never wanted to lose my father again. I wanted William to grow up knowing his dad. I wanted at least one person that I could rely on.

I brought the hot glass of steaming hot chocolate to my lips and took a small sip so that I wouldn’t burn my tongue. I could feel the hot liquid coursing down my throat and into my stomach, warming me from the inside out. I shrugged out of my coat, careful not to push William from my lap as I did so. Taking another small sip from my glass, I looked toward my dad as I struggled to come up with something to say. However, the man himself beat me to it.

“How have you been Madeline? What’s new with you?”

A cautious smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Here was my chance to tell dad about Kyle.

“Actually...I have a boyfriend now...He’s called Kyle.”

My gaze flickered over my father’s face as I tried to catch sight of his reaction. His eyes widened the tiniest bit, and a crease appeared in the middle of his forehead as he frowned slightly.

“You have a...boyfriend?”

He said the word uncertainly, as though it was foreign, and an expression of distaste crossed his features. Typical dad reaction. I found myself smiling at the thought.

“Yeah.”

I said simply, unable to keep the smile from my face. This time, a frown of confusion appeared on my father’s face.

“Why are you grinning like that?”

“No reason.”

I shook my head, looking toward my hand as I ran my index finger over the rim of my glass.

“Hmm...So, a boyfriend, huh? Does he treat you well?”

It seemed as though he was already jumping in protectively. I rolled my eyes at the man and nodded my head.

“Yes, dad. He treats me well.”

“I need to meet him.”

This was how parents were supposed to react to regular things like boyfriends. They were supposed to want to protect their children. This was how it should be. My mother didn’t even know that I was dating Kyle, because I knew that if she did know about it, all she would do was complain about who was going to be at home looking after William whilst I was out cavorting with my boyfriend.

“I think...It might be a little soon for you to meet him, dad.”

I flinched inwardly at the look of hurt that entered his eyes, and I was instantly filled with remorse.

“I-It’s not that I don’t want you to meet him, I just think it’s a bit too soon, that’s all...”

I quickly added, trying to save myself from the hole that I was so obviously digging for myself. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why could I not just take him to meet Kyle and get it over and done with? Because I barely knew the man that was sitting in front of me, that’s why. It was as though a light bulb appeared above my head as the truth of my thoughts dawned on me. I had known my father once, years ago. However, now I barely knew him at all. All I knew was that he was my father and that I loved him- I didn’t actually know anything about him as a person.

I watched as dad’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. I felt bad for telling him that he couldn’t meet Kyle yet, but deep down I knew that it was the right thing to do. I had to wait until I was ready. I gathered my courage, and nodded my head to confirm my words.

“I’m sorry.”

Dad lifted one of his hands, and I instantly pressed myself back against the chair, expecting a blow. However, when it didn’t come, I allowed my gaze to flicker over to my father, who was watching me with an expression on his face that could only be described as shock. Realising my mistake, I immediately attempted to gather the final threads of my composure, and forced a nonchalant smile on my face. Still, my father continued to watch me, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape.

“Madeline...Did you think that I was going to hit you...?”

He breathed, shaking his head as though he couldn’t believe it.

“No, I just-“

“-...because I would never hit you.”

My father’s gaze bore into mine as he leaned forward against the table. William appeared to be oblivious to the entire situation, and was happily making a mess whilst eating one of the two muffins. He seemed to have completely forgotten about how unhappy he had been to meet the man that was sat in front of us. I exhaled shakily, and could feel my hands trembling as I wrapped my fingers tightly around my warm glass of hot chocolate.

“I-I know that dad. I know you wouldn’t. Please just...let it be.”

Dad let out a gust of breath, and his eyes fell closed for several tense moments before he opened them again and reluctantly nodded his head. My gaze met his, and I could see the questions swimming around in the blue depths of his eyes. Questions that I didn’t want to answer.

“Right well umm...I have something for you.”

My eyebrows knitted together as I frowned in confusion and cocked my head slightly to one side, watching my dad with curiosity as he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a small package that was wrapped in silver paper. On the top of the package, sat a tiny red bow with a tag attached to it. Dad slid it over to me across the table, and I carefully picked it up, looking from my dad, to the box and then back again.

“It’s a Christmas present...but don’t open it until Christmas day.”

A Christmas present...I hadn’t had a Christmas present in years. I swallowed hard as my eyes filled with hot tears, and blinked furiously to keep them at bay.

“Thank you.”

I whispered thickly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

“I have something for William too.”

Dad reached for the plastic bag that was by his feet, and he handed it over to me. I took a peek inside, and found a larger package that was wrapped with blue paper that had pictures of cars on it. My smile widened, becoming more genuine.

“Again, don’t let him open it until Christmas day, okay?”

*~*

I stared down at the small package in my hand before glancing across at the sleeping William who was lying on his side and curled into a small ball beneath the duvet. A gentle sigh fell from my slightly parted lips and I looked back toward the shiny silver wrapping paper. I turned the tag over with my fingers, and quickly read over the note that was written in my father’s messy left-handed scrawl ‘Dear Madeline, Happy Christmas. I love you. From, dad. xx’ I pushed my hair away from my face with my free hand, tucking it behind my ears so that it wouldn’t fall forward again. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to refrain from opening it.

I slid one of my fingers beneath the crease of the paper, and gently tore through it before discarding the paper in the small metal bin by the bed. In my hands, was a black leather box. Whatever was inside must be expensive. I nervously ran my tongue over my lips to moisten them as I slowly opened the box.

I gasped, and pressed one of my hands to my mouth as I stared wide eyed at the beautiful locket that was in front of me. It was a large oval shape, with an intricate design on the front of it. I gingerly picked up the white gold locket by the thin chain, and opened the oval. My eyes instantly filled with tears for the second time that day. On one side of the locket, was a picture of me and my father. I was standing in front of him, and he had both of his arms slung over my shoulders. We were both wearing large grins, our eyes bright and happy.

Hot, salty tears spilled onto my cheeks, rolling down and dripping off my chin. I hastily wiped the back of my hand over my eyes before unclasping the necklace and carefully fastening it around my neck. It fell snugly in the hollow of my neck, between the two grooves of my collarbone. I squeezed my eyes shut and took several deep breaths before opening them again and easing myself off the bed, careful not to wake William. I exited the room, and padded barefoot down the stairs, careful to avoid the ones that creaked. Last time I had checked, mum had been asleep on the sofa in the living room, so I didn’t want to wake her if I could help it. When I passed the living room, I stuck my head around the door to see if mum was still sleeping. However, I couldn’t spot her, so I supposed that she was in the kitchen. I didn’t particularly want to be alone in the same room as the woman, but I wanted a glass of water so I supposed that I would have to bite the bullet.

I walked into the kitchen, fiddling with the hem of my pyjama top and twisting the material between my fingers as I walked over to the cupboards. I could feel my mother’s gaze burning into me as I made my way across the room. However, I didn’t bother looking at her. I still didn’t trust the woman. I heard the screech of the wooden chair legs against tile, and saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. In an instant, my mother was stood in front of me, cupping my locket in the palm of her hand as her rough knuckles rested against my smooth skin.

“Where did you get this?”

She hissed, her eyes narrowing at me.

“I-“

“Did you steal it?”

“No!”

“Then where did you get it?”

What was I supposed to say? I had no idea how mum would react if I told her that dad had given it to me. She despised the man, so I doubted that it would be a particularly good reaction.

“Well?!”

She prompted, her face edging ever closer to mine.

“I...I got it from dad.”

Time seemed to come to a standstill as mother froze. The only sound came from her heavy breathing. I could find no words to describe the expression on my mother’s face. Her lips were pulled back into a ferocious snarl, her teeth grinding together. Never in my entire life had I seen her looking so enraged.

“You...what?”

She bit out, her voice as hard as nails.

“I g-got it from d-dad.”

I repeated the words from before, though I found myself stumbling over them. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the cold tiles, cupping my searing cheek with one of my hands. My mother stood above me, her hand still raised as though she was preparing herself to lash out again. As predicted, her hand shot out once more, flying in a blur toward my face. Not that I was entirely surprised. I had known that it was only a matter of time before she lost it again. I just couldn’t understand why mum had such a problem with me seeing dad. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong. I just wanted my other parent back in my life, was that so bad?

I curled up into a ball much like a woodlouse would do in the face of danger. I lifted my arms up to protect my face, as mother began to viciously batter me. She had never hit me when she was sober before. Until now. I knew that my mother was sober because when her face had been inches away from mine, there had not been the familiar stench of alcohol. She was completely sober, yet she was still hitting me. I had always blamed her outbursts on the influence of alcohol, but I couldn’t pretend anymore.

She wanted to hit me.

That realisation hurt me more than any beating ever could.

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