She shook her head. "It wasn't like that. I didn't mean it like that."
But that's exactly how she meant it.
I felt the twitch again.
I stared at her but she wasn't looking at me. Couldn't look at me.
"Don't ever keep anything like this from me again, Jodie, I fucking mean it. I'm their fucking dad. They're my fucking girls, too. You've no fucking right to cut me out like that."
"I know," she said. "Darren, I'm sorry. I should have said … I just didn't think … "
"No," I said. "You fucking didn't."
I turned my back on her and went to the truck. Stubbed my cigarette on the pavement and climbed in. My jaw was gritted, my temper at red, that horrible feeling in my gut that said I wasn't a part of this family anymore, not when it mattered. Jodie was at the door before I pulled away. She yanked it open and stood with her arms folded.
"What are you doing?" she said.
"Need some space," I said. "Let me go."
She sighed. "Pub? A pint or ten down the Drum? Get yourself wasted and pick a fight with Buck? Or Jimmy? Take it out on little Petey?"
I didn't say a thing.
"That'll make you feel better, will it, Darren?" Her voice was strained. "I said I'm sorry. I said I should've told you."
My fingers tapped on the wheel.
"What else do you want me to say?" she said. "I didn't tell you because I thought I could handle it. I thought the school would deal with it. I didn't want to bother you with it. Yes, because I was worried you'd fly off the handle and go causing a massive fucking scene, Darren, just when everyone's stopped talking about us and all our shit."
I stared ahead, my insides fucking knotted up.
"You think I don't know that you're their dad? That I don't see it every day, that I don't hear it from them every day? You really think I believe you're too unimportant to care about?"
"Don't you?" I met her eyes. "Good for nothing but my temper, isn't that right, Jo? Too fucking bull-headed, too blunt. Better get them a new fucking daddy. A nice daddy who doesn't swear and plays golf and wears tweed and likes opera and fucking quinoa and lavender. That kind of daddy, eh?"
"He was never their dad, Darren, not even close," she said.
"Yeah, well, not for the want of trying, eh?"
"Brian was a mistake."
"A long fucking mistake, Jo. Would you have told him about Tyler fucking Dean? Bet he could have went to Mrs Webber's office and pulled a stern face along with you. Called the cunt a naughty little hooligan."
"I would never have taken Brian to Mrs Webber's office! It was never that serious. It's not like I was engaged to the guy!"
It knocked me in the gut. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She took a step back, and her expression was full of pain. "Nine months, Darren, maybe slightly less. Nine months to propose to Stacey, to introduce a new mum to our girls. She had them picking out fucking bridesmaid dresses before Ruby even knew what a bridesmaid was!"
"Like I had anything to do with that, Jo." I shook my head. "Fuck this shit, I need to get out of here, got shit to do."
"Client waiting?"
"No!" I snapped. "I just need some fucking space!" I was too loud, too harsh. I closed my eyes, took a breath. "I'm not going to a client, Jo. I just need to get out of here."
"Fine," she said, and her voice was weak and broken. I turned to her and her eyes were glassy, just like Mia's had been, her lip shaky.
It'd been a long fucking time since I'd seen her like this.
"I said sorry," she said, but it was just a breath.
I swallowed, and the pub was calling me, the thought of a cold pint, a load of mindless chatter. Shit. It was all shit.
"Don't be upset," I said.
"Go," she said. "Leave, like you always leave when you get pissed off, when things get too fucking hard for you, when I get upset, when I get angry." Her breath was ragged. "Go!" she snapped. "Leave me, leave us! I'll just sort it out, like I sort everything. Come back when you feel like it, when you've drunk yourself stupid and punched someone, when you feel all-fucking-right again."
"It's not like that," I said.
"It's always like that!" she said, and the tears came. "I'd wait for you all fucking day, Darren. All day! Running around after a little girl with a baby in my arms, holed up in that flat just waiting for you, looking forward to you coming home. Did you know that?"
"Stop," I said.
"And then what? You'd come home. Tired and sore and pissed fucking off, sweaty and grubby and worked half to fucking death! You'd come home and you'd hardly even look at me! Just stare at the fucking TV like I wasn't even there!"
"I was still new to it," I said. "I had to get the hours in, Jo. What did you expect me to do? I was fucking knackered, Jo! I was exhausted!"
"Love me," she said. "Love us. That's all I expected from you."
I felt a pain in my chest. An actual fucking pain. I did fucking love you. I did it fucking for you, all of it. Every poxy fucking shift. Every fucking hour of overtime. Every fucking thing.
"I was tired," I said. "I didn't think you were happy. You didn't seem happy."
"We weren't happy," she said. "Jesus, Darren, when you were an apprentice we had nothing but each other, nothing and a hundred poxy quid a week. We got a bit of money and I lost you. Don't you see that? You weren't there! I only wanted you! Not you when you were tired from working, not when you'd gone drinking with the others after work, not when you wanted a quick fuck after I'd just got Ruby off to sleep."
"What's the point in this?" I said. "We already know all this, Jo. We've already said it a thousand fucking times."
Her voice broke as she said the words, and I felt it. I felt it all the way inside. "Because I still only want you! Because I still hope you'll stay! Because I hope that one time, even now, even when you're pissed off, you'll grit your teeth and stand firm and see it out, with me!" She turned away from me. "I never wanted to do this on my own. But I did. I did do it on my own." She turned back. "I make decisions all day every day about our girls, every single day, Darren. Yes, I should have told you about Tyler Dean. Yes, I should have told you about going to see Mrs Webber. Yes, I should have told you everything, before I even did anything, before I even thought about doing anything. But I didn't. Maybe it's because I've got so used to doing everything for myself that I don't even think about it anymore! That's my bad, Darren! I'm sorry for it!"
Or maybe it's because you think I'm a fucking loser who only knows how to fix cars and fight.
Fight and fuck.
"Jesus, Jo."
"Go," she said. "Just drive away."
I put truck car in gear. "Say bye to the girls. Nanna too."
She nodded, slammed the driver's door shut.
I watched her walk up the path, saw Ruby's face in the window, staring.
I fought the urge to cry like a fucking baby.
Shit.
I slapped the steering wheel, slammed my head against the headrest.
Shit.
A cold pint. A cold pint and mindless fucking banter.
But no. I didn't want it. I'd never fucking wanted it.
I was out of the truck before Jodie had reached the door.
"Wait," I said. "Jo, just wait a fucking minute."
There was surprise in her eyes, so much surprise. It hurt to see how fucking surprised she was.
I lit up a cigarette as she stared at me. "I'm not going to the fucking pub," I said. "I'll just … I'll stay here. If you'll have me in."
She brushed the tears from her cheeks, took a breath. "I'm cooking sausage and beans," she said. "Do you want some?"
I smiled, breathed a sigh of fucking relief that lightened my fucking soul.
"Yeah," I said. "Sausage and beans sounds really fucking good."
I composed myself in the doorway.
He didn't leave. He didn't leave. He didn't leave.
I smiled at Ruby and Nanna in the living room, but Ruby stared back horrified, eyes big and scared. Shit. The fucking window. It was open at the top. Bloody Nanna and her fresh air. I wondered what they'd heard.
"Alright, Jodie love?" Nanna said, and she was worried too, I could see it in her face.
Darren appeared behind me. "She's alright, Nanna, aren't you, Jo?"
I nodded. Smiled. "We're good, Nanna. Darren's staying for dinner."
"Ohhh, that's nice," she said. "Sausages and beans, you like that, don't you, Darren?"