Page 58 of The Absence of You
“No. No, I don’t know anything. I haven’t spoken to Dee since before I came here. I’m sure it’s all fine. Don’t worry, Dahlia.” She smiles, attempting to reassure me, but it’s weak, and I can’t help but feel she is feeding me more fucking lies.
Back in my room, I unpack my bag and run myself a bath. The accommodation is bright and airy and has its own private bathroom. I ache with tiredness, but my mind won’t stop racing. I had hoped to get answers, but now I just feel more confused than ever. As I try to sort through my thoughts, I keep coming back to the same conclusion. My mother is hiding something. I run through some possible scenarios. Maybe my dad was having an affair. But why would she keep that a secret, and why would he break contact with Dee? That doesn’t make sense. Maybe she cheated on him? No, that makes no sense either.
Not for the first time, I consider if my mum’s alcohol use started because of some sort of trauma. Maybe it’s been a way of forgetting whatever happened in the past. Shit, my next thought hits me in the gut.
What if he’s dead?
I realise with a start, that theory makes more sense than anything else I can think of.
Fuck. My dad is more than likely dead.
I let the thought settle in my mind as I undress and slide into the bath, letting its warmth comfort me. If he is dead, then yes, then it is pretty fucking tragic, but I’m nearly an adult. Surely my mum and Dee realise I’m old enough to hear the truth. Unless he died in some horrible, fucked up way.
Urghh, the thoughts swirl endlessly in my mind. My mum is in a good place, and if the alcohol abuse is linked to my dad dying, then pushing her to talk about it could derail her recovery. Maybe I should just ask Dee when I get back. But I keep coming back to the same decision. I can’t carry on not knowing.
I sigh. I have Googled my father’s name a few times over the years. Nearly everyone had a digital footprint these days, but there was nothing on social media, no kind of employment record. Occasionally I’d find his name, my hopes would be raised but when I dug deeper it just turned out to be someone else with the same name.
If things weren’t in tatters between Grayson and I, I would have asked him to do some investigating. I know he has much better computer skills than me. He could have helped me look for a death certificate or something. A death certificate. Up to now I’d only been looking for evidence of my dad’s life but maybe I’ve been going about things entirely wrong.
I sit up quickly causing the bath water to slosh over the sides of the tub and all over the bathroom floor. I jump out and quickly dry myself. As soon as I’ve thrown on my pjs, I power up my laptop and search for census records. For a small fee, I can check local records for births, deaths and marriages. Surely there will be some record of him on there.
I’ve only been at it for half an hour when I work out that without an exact date of death this is not a simple process either. Frustrated, I decide I need a break, so I pick up my phone and scroll to Callie’s number. I press video call and a couple of seconds later she answers. Eventually her face comes into focus, although it’s a bit laggy.
“Hey Dahlia, how’s it going? I missed you at school today.” I can see she’s in the library and there are a few other Heathley students milling about behind her. “Sorry my signal isn’t great. Hang on. Let me move somewhere quieter.” Callie moves to the library stacks. “So, how’s Liverpool?”
Just as I’m about to fill her in on the last twenty-four hours, I see Grayson over her shoulder and his eyes lock with mine as he frowns. He storms past her, and she ducks as he nearly takes her head off with his bag.
“Watch it, jerk!” She shouts after him, flipping him the bird as he stalks off. “Sorry about that, I don’t know what his problem is.” I’d text Callie from the train to tell her about my trip up here, but I hadn’t had time to fill her in about Grayson’s visit to the bookshop, otherwise she’d know his problem is clearly me. She turns her focus back to me.
“Liverpool is…exhausting.” Callie looks at me with concern. “My mum looks great, better than she’s looked for years. But I don’t dare hope for too much. She’s bounced back before, but we always end up back where we were.” I shrug resignedly. “I really hope it sticks for her this time. But I can’t help but feel she’s got issues she hasn’t dealt with, and until she does, this will just continue to cycle. And I tried to talk to her about my dad, but she just shut me down.”
“Shit, that’s heavy going. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. I should never have got my hopes up that this time would be any different.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
I smile. Callie has no idea how much of a comfort her friendship is.
“Callie, you’re listening to me vent, which is exactly what I need right now.” She smiles back at me.
“How long will you be gone? You are coming back, right?” My friend laughs nervously.
“You trying to tell me you’d miss me, bitch?” I tease.
“Eighteen years I’ve roamed this planet solo, I can do it for another eighteen if I have to,” she retorts, trying and failing to pull off an indifferent expression.
“Fine, I won’t bother using my return ticket on Sunday, then, seeing as you aren’t bothered.” I pretend to switch off my phone as Callie shrieks at me, to which she receives a loud shush from the librarian,
“Yesss, I’d miss you. You’re the only person to have ever weaselled your way into my cold, dead heart,” she admits, rolling her eyes and pretending to stab herself. “Please don’t leave me, please, please...” She’s so busy being dramatic, she doesn’t notice my hand gestures trying to warn her that Asher has walked up behind her. Callie is completely unaware he’s just inches from her until he runs his tongue up her neck. She practically jumps out of her skin, squealing and dropping her phone. It landed face down, judging by the now dark screen.
I can just about make out her voice telling Asher to fuck off as he offers to keep her dead heart beating using another method. I hang up when I realise Callie has retrieved her phone, only to shove it in her bag.
Chapter Forty-Six
GRAYSON
AGE 12
