Читать книгу Her Turn to Cry - Chris Curran - Страница 11

Joycie and her dad have got into the habit of having their tea at the Italian café on the front before walking to the theatre. He always lets her have ice cream for afters and today it’s her favourite: banana split. He smokes and sips his coffee while she eats; the ice cream cold on her lips.

When he screws up his eyes and hands her a paper napkin she scrubs at her face and he gives a little laugh. ‘Your mum would have my guts for garters if she could see you.’

It’s almost the first time he’s mentioned Mum since she went and Joycie swallows hard and puts down her spoon, biting her lip to stop from crying.

Dad rubs her shoulder. ‘Sorry, darlin’, didn’t mean to upset you.’

His voice sounds thick and Joycie feels bad because it’s her fault. She starts to eat again even though her throat feels all clogged up.

‘You mustn’t blame your mum for going, Joycie. She’s a great girl and I didn’t deserve her. Never was much of a husband. But she loves you to bits and I bet she’ll be in touch one day soon.’ When Joycie looks up he’s smiling at her, but his blue eyes are bright with tears. So she gives him a wobbly grin and he sniffs, rubs his eyes and says, ‘And we’re all right for now aren’t we?’

She finishes her banana split and holds his hand as they walk along by the sea in the late sunshine. People look at her dad as they pass, probably recognizing him from the show, but she can see that some of the women look because he’s so handsome. She’s proud to be holding his hand and to know he’s her dad. And she’s not going to think about that stained mat any more.

And anyway she looked for it when she got back from Irene’s the day after Mum left and, although the black shoes were still in their box under the bed, she couldn’t find the mat.