Page 73 of The Absence of You
Why didn’t I go straight to the police instead of coming into his office? He wouldn’t have had a chance to release this information.
But it’s too fucking late now.
I can’t, I won’t let him do this to her.
I thought there was nothing he could hold over me, but I was wrong. I walked in here thinking I was happy to sacrifice my future if it meant he’d be in prison, but I won’t sacrifice her future. Not for anything.
Chapter Fifty-Five
DAHLIA
The tension in the car is palpable. I’m on my way to the prison to meet Joseph. Once he learnt I knew the truth, he agreed to add me to his visitor list, and we were able to arrange a visit the next day. I glance over at Dee. I’m going in on my own to meet him, but she offered to drive as my hands are so shaky, it wouldn’t have been safe. I try to imagine how it must feel for her. Her son killed her husband, but yet she’s forgiven him. She stood by him because she believed it was justified. I figure I owe it to my dad, to Joseph, to hear him out. Hell, I’ve given everyone else in my life their chance to explain. What’s one more person?
In my head I’m still calling him dad, but I need to remember that there is a high chance he’s not. He could be my brother. That would make Dee my stepmother? My head is swirling with the possibilities. My mum and I spent over two hours on the phone last night. She spent a lot of it apologising, but she also told me her version of what happened, and we both cried. A lot. I already know today’s visit will probably go much the same way. My pockets are stuffed with tissues, ready for the inevitable emotion that’s likely to come at some point.
We pull up in the large car park, and I get out, arranging to meet her back here in a couple of hours. I sign in at the front desk. Other than the bold signage that reads HMP Stockley and the heavy security, there is nothing remarkable about the large grey building. The staff run through various procedures and eventually we’re shown to a large room. There are tables spaced out with various people already seated and talking. A guard leads me to an empty table in the corner, and I sit down and wait.
My palms are sticky and my heart is racing. I sit and adjust my sweater and then stand back up again, not comfortable in either position. I try to slow down my breathing, so I don’t pass out.
I’m either about to meet my father, or I’m about to meet my brother. Either way, this man is a member of my family. He’s the man my mother loved, for maybe her whole adulthood, and he’s the man that sacrificed his future to defend her. If nothing else, then I should be thankful for that. Dee’s husband – whoever he is to me - was a predator. What would my life have looked like if he was still around? The butterfly effect of Joseph’s actions eighteen years ago can be felt in every aspect of my life. As I continue to muse over the what ifs, I haven’t realised there are two men standing on the opposite side of the table. One is a guard and seeing he has my attention, he nods and walks away. I swing my gaze to the man who is left behind as he slowly steps around the table.
He’s tall. Taller than I’d imagined. His eyes are the exact same shade of grey as mine. And he’s so familiar.
“You look like me,” I blurt out.
“Well, technically, you look like me,” he replies with a wistful smile. His voice is deep, and his eyes don’t leave mine. Not even for a second. They are asking my permission to come closer, so I put him out of his misery and take a step towards him. “But you look like your mum even more.” I see the tender look in his eyes when he talks about her. “I’ve seen pictures, but… in person, the similarity is even clearer. You’re beautiful,” I feel my cheeks redden, and I awkwardly look around, not really sure what to say next. I mean, what does someone say in these circumstances? Pretty sure there’s no rule book for this stuff. I settle on sitting down instead and Gesture for him to do the same.
He sits and then takes a sip of water from one of the plastic cups on the table.
As he places it back, I notice his rolled-up shirt sleeve and a small bandage inside his elbow.
“You’ve had a blood test? Was that for the DNA test?” I nod at his arm.
“Yes, my solicitor made the arrangements, but I want you to know there is no pressure from me. If you want to wait, or if you don’t want to get the test at all, then I’ll accept your decision.”
I study his face, the dark shadow under his eyes, the rough stubble on his chin. I can’t even begin to imagine what spending half your life in prison would feel like, but he’s clearly been able to keep himself in shape. The muscles in his arms are defined and despite clearly being tired, he looks good for his age. In my head he looked a lot older. Which makes no sense, as I know he’s the same age as my mum. “This must be a lot for you to take in. My mother, your…Dee, she explained to me how you found out about everything. I never intended for you to find out like that.” He swallows. “I’m not really sure how I envisioned you finding out, but it was never like this. None of us wanted you to find out like this. I hope you’ll let me tell you my side of things. It isn’t pretty, but for what it’s worth, I promise you it will be the complete truth.
“And whatever happens next, I want you to know that I would really like to be a part of your life.” I don’t know how I imagined my first meeting with my father going, but it wasn’t this. I don’t even know if he is my father, for fuck’s sake. Until this moment I had been undecided, but it was naïve to think there was ever any other option.
“I want the DNA test.” Joseph raises his eyebrows at my abruptness, but he quickly schools his features.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. I’ve spent too many years in the dark. I want all the facts. Whatever they are.”
“Okay. I have a meeting this afternoon with my solicitor. I’ll let him know we’re going to go ahead, and he’ll be in touch to make the arrangements for your test.”
“Thanks.” There’s an awkward silence, and I glance around the room. Up until now I’d been too nervous to take in much about what was happening around us. There are three or four other tables of people. At the one closest to us, there’s a woman with a small child of about five years old. The little girl is sitting on one of the prisoners' knees as he bounces her up and down. She’s giggling every time he drops her down, and it’s adorable. I feel a pang of loss and the thought that I missed out on that. But I refuse to dwell on it. I turn back to Joseph. It might turn out he isn’t my father, but he’s my family and I don’t want to waste another minute. I smile at him.
“I would really like you to tell me a bit about yourself. Please? If that’s okay?”
“I’d like that too, but before I tell you about who I am now, I’d like to tell you what led up to me being arrested. Please?” I wasn’t sure if he’d want to talk about this at our first meeting, but it’s as good a time as any.
“Okay.”
Joseph begins to tell me about meeting my mother when he was a similar age to me. My mum has already told me most of this, but listening to him gives me another perspective, and I quickly see why she fell for him. The way he talks about her is beautiful. He tells me about how they had this connection from the minute they met, how they felt like soul mates. He tells me about his dreams to be a doctor. About how my mum had always dreamed of being a nurse. About how, despite their different backgrounds, they fit.
He tells me about how they were ambitious and planned to eventually open their own practice together near the coast. He’s lost in the memories for a while, and it just makes what we both know is coming, even harder to hear. His smile fades quickly when he starts telling me about Roger.
