Abi takes one last big breath, the breath that could ruin them forever and, turning around to face her daughter, she looks her in the eye as she says, ‘It’s me, Lil.’
Lily stares at her, frowning.
‘It’s me they were talking about on the radio. I’m the woman. The woman Mr Kent paid for sex.’
Lily’s shaking her head, like she’s trying to shake the words away. ‘Mum, what are you talking about? You were a therapist, Mum, a therapist …’
‘Lily, please sit down …’
Lily is still shaking her head and starts backing away from Abi. ‘Is this some kind of sick Halloween prank?’
Abi doesn’t say anything and Lily’s freckled face fills as she thinks all the worst things Abi has ever thought about herself. ‘No, Mum. No …’
‘Lily, please, let’s sit down. I want to explain, I want to explain everything to you …’ But Lily won’t sit, instead she’s shaking her head, and when Abi reaches out to touch her she shrieks, ‘Don’t! Don’t touch me!’
Abi can’t stop crying but she forces herself to calm down enough that she can say, ‘I’m sorry, Lily, I’m so sorry for lying to you.’
Lily starts backing away again; she’s still shaking her head, and she points at Abi, her mouth twisting, as she says, ‘You’re disgusting,’ before she turns and runs out of the flat.
For the first hour, Abi waits for Lily at home. Lily, she knows, needs space. Abi thrums, numb, around the flat. She messages Lily that she loves her, that she’s sorry. She deletes the message because, again, she’s writing it for herself, not for Lily. She tries to cook but her hand is shaking too much to chop. She messages Lily that she’ll answer all her questions, just to
‘Abi,’ Diego says, his voice tense. ‘Tell me you’re on your way?’
Oh. The restaurant, her shift tonight.
‘D … I …’
‘What, what is it?’ He’s angry, his tone like a rough shake.
‘D, I can’t come in now.’
‘What the fuc—?’
‘I told Lily, D, I told her what I used to do, that I lied to her.’
‘Jesus,’ Diego says in English before continuing in rapid-fire Spanish. ‘Is she OK?’
‘I don’t know,’ Abi says before adding, ‘Well, no. She’s not OK, but I don’t know where she is; she ran away somewhere, she’s not answering her phone. I’m going to have to go and get Margot soon; she’s gone trick-or-treating. I’m sorry, D, but I can’t come in to work until I know they’re both OK …’
‘Fuck!’ Diego shouts. ‘This is our first week, Abi, almost our second weekend open, and you’re not fucking here!’
‘Look, I might be able to come in later, but I need to make sure the girls are …’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know, I know you do. Look, sorry. We’ve got a full house tonight and the staff here are just … well, let’s just say they’re not London-trained, so please, for the sake of our careers, come in as soon as you can, OK?’ He sounds like he wants to hang up straight away but mutters a quick, ‘I love you all.’
She doesn’t know how much time passes before she hears Lily’s key in the lock for the second time. She pulls herself off the table. She’s never been so nervous, more afraid in this moment of her own daughter than she ever was of any strange man.
Lily pulls her key away from the lock slowly. She’s aged a decade since Abi last saw her. Her pale skin is puffy, her blue eyes bloodshot. Abi longs to hold her but there’s a new force field around Lily and she senses that she doesn’t want her too close, so she holds on to her own arms instead and says, her voice quiet, her words simple, ‘I’m glad you’re home, Lil.’
Lily looks at her, nods slowly. Her eyes are set and unblinking, her new world still blurry and out of focus.
‘I promised I’d get Margot,’ Lily says plainly. ‘I thought we should talk a bit before.’
She walks into the kitchen, not looking at Abi, and sits down at the table. Abi feels a tug of temptation to fall into logistics, to tell Lily that of course she doesn’t need to collect Margot, not today, Abi will collect her from outside the school as arranged by the parents taking the class trick-or-treating, but they both know that collecting Margot isn’t the real reason Lily is back. Abi sits quietly opposite her daughter and waits. When she starts talking, the words come slowly at first before flowing into a great flood.
‘You know, pretty much every one of my friends in London and here moans about their parents. They say their mums either embarrass them, want to be their best friend or boss them around, never trust them.’ Lily shrugs, runs her thumb along a scratch on the table Margot made with some scissors, and keeps talking. ‘But I never join in. I thought you, our relationship, was like my superpower. Our incredible secret. I might not have a dad, not really, but you know what? I never really cared because I had you. I have always known that I was loved, respected, important …’