Something in the Water(81)

She takes a soft breath.

She knew there would be questions, but now that they’re here the reality of this interview is finally dawning on her. Big questions require big answers. A steep trudge uphill into the past.

“We were close, Erin. It’s hard to say if we were closer than other families. I don’t have much to compare it to. People sort of kept away from me at school. I get it now. I’ve got kids myself and there’s no way I’d let them be around people like my dad. But at the time, I thought it was me, that I wasn’t quite right. That none of us were, my whole family not quite right. And it definitely made us closer, Dad and I. I was closer to my dad than my mum. Mum was…difficult. Always was. I think that’s why Dad loved her, though. He liked the challenge. Liked the payoff. He used to say high maintenance means high performance. You know, like a car. Anyway, Mum was tricky. Especially with me. But I was Dad’s little angel. He was a good dad. He was. Told me stories. Put me to bed. He was very good to me. So, yes, we were close.”

She watches me expectantly, waiting for the next question.

“Did you know much about his work? His life outside of his time with you?”

Interviewees usually need a while to gather their thoughts, to consider what they want to say. But Lottie knows what she wants to say; she’s just waiting for the chance to say it.

She looks out at the garden for a microsecond, then back to me.

“Nothing, until I was maybe thirteen. I changed schools. They sent me to private school. Dad was doing well. I guess, before, I thought he was a businessman. Everyone looked up to him, everyone trusted his opinion. He seemed to be everyone’s boss. There were always people around the house. Smartly dressed. They had meetings in Dad’s living room. Mum and Dad had separate living rooms. That’s what it was like, you know?” She looks at me, eyebrows raised.

I nod. I get it. It was a rocky marriage.

Her mother remarried while Eddie was in prison. The family split after the trial, each going their separate ways.

“Yeah, so did I know about Dad?” She refocuses. “I remember the night I finally figured it out. As I said, I was about thirteen; I’d just started at the new school. It was the weekend; there were people around, the usual lot and someone new. They’d gone into Dad’s living room together and I’d been in Mum’s watching a film. I came out to get more popcorn from the kitchen. It was a big house, you know. I heard a weird noise like crying, but creepy crying, coming from the hall. I assumed the visitors had all gone already and Dad was watching Saving Private Ryan or something like that on loud, I don’t know. He watched it a lot. He loves Tom Hanks. So I grabbed my popcorn and went into his living room. Dad was there leaning against his desk. Three of his work colleagues were there too. The TV wasn’t on. There was another man on the floor in front of him. The man was on his knees. He was kneeling on this plastic sheeting and there was blood pouring from his mouth. He was sobbing. Everyone else in the room was staring at me, standing there frozen in the doorway, but this guy just kept crying like he couldn’t stop. Dad didn’t look surprised to see me. Just blank. And he still had his overcoat on. That’s always stuck with me. He’d kept it on, like he might leave at any moment. Like he wasn’t staying. At that point Mum happened to come around the corner, she saw that I’d wandered in on something and grabbed me. Took me upstairs. She was gentle about the whole thing—well, for her. Told me the man I’d seen was a bad man, that Daddy was handling everything. Dad came upstairs about ten minutes later. He asked if I was okay. I hugged him so hard. For ages. Like I was trying to somehow squeeze something back into him. Or out of him. But that’s when I knew. That he was the bad man. That good people just don’t do things like that. Even if someone else is bad. They just don’t. After that, I was different with him. Wary, I suppose. I’d like to credit my younger self that he never even noticed the difference in me. I didn’t want him to. You know? I still loved him. I wouldn’t ever want to hurt him.” She stops, her focus snapping back from the past to me.

“Wait—I’m not sure you can use that stuff. I don’t want to have to go to court or anything, you know. I don’t really know what I saw. It was just…enough for me to know.” She gives me a tremulous smile.

“It’s okay. I need to run a lot of stuff by the lawyers before we release the documentary anyway. I’ll flag this for them. If it can’t be used for legal reasons, we can easily scrap it. Are you worried about upsetting Eddie?” I prompt.

She lets out a little laugh of surprise. “No, I’m definitely not worried about upsetting Dad. These things happened; if he doesn’t like them, that’s his problem. I just won’t give evidence against him. There’s a line. And I won’t cross it.” She says it calmly. I realize not much in life upsets Lottie. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Maybe they have more in common, she and Eddie, than she’d like to believe.

I think now is the time.

“Lottie. What I want to do now, if it’s okay with you, is show you a video. It’s a message your father made for you during our interview on Saturday. I know it was your choice not to see him over the past seven years, and if you’re not comfortable doing this, that’s fine. We just won’t.”

I take it easy. I do want Eddie’s help, but I’m not going to be a complete arsehole to get it. If she doesn’t want to see him again, that’s his problem, not mine.