Surprise Me(96)

So I hastened on to the emails, the present-day correspondence, the actual case. There are hundreds of emails in the files. Thousands, even. Daddy to Dan, Dan back to Daddy, Roderick to both of them, Dan to Mary, Mary back to Dan … And the more I read, the more shocked I am. Daddy’s emails are so abrupt. Demanding. Entitled. Dan is resolutely polite, resolutely charming, but Daddy … Daddy pushes him around. He expects Dan to drop everything. He swears at him when things go wrong. He’s a bully.

I can’t believe I’m having these thoughts about my father. My charming, twinkly father a bully? I mean, yes, he sometimes lost it with his staff … but never with his family.

Surely?

I keep reading, hoping desperately to discover the email where he’s appreciative. Where he thanks Dan for all his efforts. Where he gushes. He was a charming person. Where’s the charm here?

After 258 emails, I haven’t yet found it and my stomach is heavy. Everything makes horrible sense. This is why Dan’s relationship with Daddy deteriorated. Because Daddy dragged him into his problems and made them Dan’s and treated him like mud.

No wonder Dan talked about an ‘ongoing nightmare’. Daddy was the nightmare.

At last I raise my head, my cheeks flaming. I’m churned up. I want to wade in. I want to confront Daddy. I want to have it out. Phrases are flying around my head: How could you? Apologize! You can’t speak to Dan like that! That’s my husband!

But Daddy’s dead. He’s dead. It’s too late. I can’t confront him, I can’t talk to him, I can’t demand why he behaved like that, or have it out, or make it right; it’s all too late, too late.

And guilt is rising in me, making my face still warmer. Because I didn’t help Dan, did I? All along, I blanked out Daddy’s flaws, I glorified him, I made it impossible for Dan ever to speak the truth. And that was the chasm.

‘Are you OK?’

I jump, shocked, at Mary’s voice, and abruptly realize I’m rocking back and forth in my chair, my jaw jutting out as though for a fight.

‘Fine!’ I hastily sit upright. ‘Fine. It’s … quite heavy stuff.’

‘Yes.’ She gives me a sympathetic look. ‘Probably a bit much to try to digest it all.’

‘I need to go, anyway.’ I glance at my watch. ‘School pick-up time.’

‘Ah.’ She nods. ‘Well, come back any time you’d like. Ask me anything you’d like to know.’

‘Have you heard from Dan?’ The question spills out before I can stop it.

‘No.’ She gives me a neutral look. ‘I’m sure he’s doing everything he can.’

I have about ten thousand questions I want to bombard her with, but as we walk to the lifts, two are circling high above the rest.

‘My father,’ I say as I press the lift button.

‘Yes?’

‘Did he … Is it … You don’t think …’ I can’t say it out loud. But Mary understands exactly.

‘Your father always maintained that Jocelyn Burton has a fertile imagination and the affair was entirely fictitious,’ she says. ‘Her full account is all there in the files for you to read. Thousands of words. Very descriptive. However, you may feel that it’s not helpful for you.’

‘Right,’ I say. ‘Well … maybe.’ I watch the lift indicator changing: 26 – 25 – 24 – and then draw breath. ‘My father,’ I say again.

‘Yes?’

I bite my lip. I don’t know what I want to ask, exactly. I try again. ‘I’ve been reading the emails between Dan and my father. And …’

‘Yes.’ Mary meets my eye and I have a feeling that, again, she knows exactly what I’m driving at. ‘Dan is very patient. Very smart. I hope your father knew how much he did for him.’

‘But he didn’t though, did he?’ I say bluntly. ‘I’ve seen it in those emails. Daddy was awful to him. I can’t believe Dan stuck it out.’ Tears suddenly spring to my eyes as I think of Dan, uncomplainingly dealing with Daddy’s charmless missives. Never telling me a word. ‘I mean, why would he? Why would he?’

‘Oh, Sylvie.’ Mary shakes her head with an odd little laugh. ‘If you don’t know—’ She breaks off, surveying me with such a wry gaze I almost feel uncomfortable. ‘You know, I’ve been intrigued to meet you, all this time. To meet Dan’s Sylvie.’

‘Dan’s Sylvie?’ A painful laugh rises through me. ‘I don’t feel like Dan’s Sylvie right now. If I were him I would have left me ages ago.’

The doors open, and as I get in, Mary holds out her hand. ‘Very nice to meet you at last, Sylvie,’ she says. ‘Please don’t worry about this second book. I’m sure it will all be resolved. And if there’s any more information I can give you about Joss … or Lynn …’

‘What?’ I stare at her, puzzled. ‘What do you mean, Lynn?’

‘Oh, sorry. I know it’s confusing.’ Mary raises her eyes ruefully. ‘Jocelyn is her full name, but she was known as Lynn as a teenager. For legal purposes, obviously, we—’

‘Wait.’ My hand jams the Hold button before I’m even aware I’m reacting. ‘Lynn? Are you telling me … she was called Lynn?’