Sophie hesitated, her thumb hovering over her phone when she saw it was her dad calling. But she couldn’t call him Dad any more, could she?

Was he ringing to break the news, say, Hey, how’re you doing? Oh, by the way, I’m not your father? He could hardly just leave it, could he, now he’d finally found out something that was basically a life changer?

Her heart missed a beat at the thought that he would want to change his life – but he’d have to, wouldn’t he? It’s not like he’d want to stay with a woman who’d turned out to be a cheating, lying bitch.

She placed the phone on the bed and let it go to voicemail. Jessica’s spare bed in her spare room, pretty and prissy and nothing like her own. Sophie missed it already. She missed him. Missed Luke so much it hurt. It felt like her intestines were all twisted up inside her. Turning away from the phone, she curled herself into a ball, clamping her hands to her tummy and wishing the cramps would go away, that everything would go away. Especially her mother. All of this was her fault. All of it.

Plucking at a loose edge of wallpaper, she ignored the phone when it rang again. He was a bit keen, wasn’t he, to drop another bombshell in her life? She didn’t have a life any more, though, did she? Not one worth living. Sophie’s anger intensified, twisting itself into a tight knot, like a snake squirming around in her belly. She’d never hated her dad. She’d been pissed off with him sometimes, yes, but he’d never been a rubbish dad, distant like some of her friends’ dads were, or overbearing: laying down the rules, expecting her to jump to his command. He’d always tried to talk to her, even when he completely didn’t get it. He’d smiled when she’d needed him to, making her think that whatever trauma she was going through maybe wasn’t such a big deal after all. She didn’t hate him now, though she wanted to. She just wanted him to do what he’d always done – make things all right. He’d always looked out for her, taking the little dickhead who was bullying her at junior school aside and making him stop with no more than a succinct word. Wiping away her tears and bathing her knees when she grazed them, which she always seemed to be doing when she was small.

He’d taught her to ride her bike on her own in the hall, she recalled, rather than risk her skinning her knees again on the icy pavement outside. Sophie’s mouth curved into a small smile as she remembered how he’d whooped like a big kid when she’d finally got the hang of it. His eyes had been so full of pride, she felt like she’d climbed a mountain. And then he’d gone slightly cross-eyed when one of the rugs that covered the flagstones had slipped from underneath him and he’d landed flat on his back.

She pictured herself dropping down to clamp her hand to his cheek. ‘Are you hurt?’ she’d whispered fearfully.

He’d lifted his head and given her a wink. ‘Nothing damaged but my pride, Pumpkin,’ he’d assured her. He had been hurt though. He’d dislocated his shoulder, they learned later, but hadn’t said anything, in order to protect her impressionable five-year-old’s feelings.

She wished she could be small again, his little girl, safe in the unshakeable belief that her dad would be there for her forever.

He’d never lied to her either. Was he going to now? Would he try to soften the blow with more lies, she wondered? Would he quietly distance himself from her, or just wash his hands of everything and walk away?

Unfurling herself as her phone rang for a third time, Sophie leaned her back against the wall, brought her knees up to her chest and reluctantly picked it up.

‘Hi, Sophie, it’s Dad,’ Justin said when she answered, causing the icy dagger to inch further into her heart. ‘Are you busy?’

‘No. Just sleeping.’ Sophie plucked nervously on her eyebrow stud. ‘Sorry, I muted my phone.’

‘Are you okay?’ Justin asked, immediate concern in his voice.

‘Yeah, just stomach cramps.’ Sophie shrugged. ‘You know.’

‘Ask Jess for a hot water bottle,’ Justin advised, sounding like he always did, as near normal as it was possible to be in the abnormal shit-fest their lives had become. ‘Take a couple of paracetamol and curl up under the duvet for a while.’

‘I will,’ Sophie said, thinking that a truckload of paracetamol might be the only thing that would make this pain go away. ‘So, why the call?’ she asked him, bracing herself for bad news – which it would be, whatever he said. If he didn’t tell her, he’d be lying, leaving her with the uncertainty of when the bomb would drop. And if he told her… Sophie tucked her knees closer to her chest. She didn’t think she could bear it.

‘I just wanted to let you know your mum’s on her way over,’ Justin said, causing her to immediately uncoil.

‘Why?’ she asked apprehensively. ‘I mean, why’s she coming here now? I’ve only just got here.’

Justin hesitated. ‘There’s been a problem… at home,’ he said carefully.

Sophie almost laughed. That was one way of describing a total fucking catastrophe, she supposed. ‘What kind of problem?’ she asked warily, praying that if he couldn’t tell her the whole truth, he wouldn’t give her a load of bullshit. He’d be struggling with it as much as she was, after all. His pride would be badly bruised this time. His heart pulverised, all thanks the woman who had vowed to stay faithful to him. Cow.

‘A break-in,’ Justin supplied, after a pause. ‘Nothing major taken,’ he added quickly, obviously trying to reassure her. ‘Some jewellery: your mum’s gold locket, a few other things. No items of yours, as far as we can see. I think your mum will feel safer there with you and Jess though.’

‘A break-in?’ Sophie felt goosebumps prickle her skin. ‘But… when?’ she asked, disbelieving. How? How did this shit just keep happening?

‘While we were out. At the funeral.’

It took a second for Sophie to digest. While we were saying goodbye to Luke, someone had… Tears springing to eyes, she glanced upwards.

‘Okay, Pumpkin?’ Justin asked softly, which only made it worse.

‘Yes,’ Sophie blurted quickly. She couldn’t cry. All the hurt stuffed inside her would come tumbling out if she did. She couldn’t talk to him either. How could she? From him, at least, she wanted honesty. She didn’t want to be pacified. She wanted the truth. The unedited, ugly truth.

‘You didn’t notice anything missing or moved in your room, did you, Sophie?’ Justin asked her.

Shaking her head, Sophie tried to focus. She hadn’t. But then, she’d been in such a state of shock that she probably wouldn’t have noticed if Santa Claus plus his reindeer had dropped down the chimney. ‘No,’ she said. ‘What about you? Are you coming here too?’ She hoped her broaching of the subject sounded innocuous.

‘I, er…’

Sophie tried to suppress her growing sense of dread as Justin searched for an answer.

‘No,’ he said, eventually, over a long intake of breath. ‘I’ll, er, be staying in a hotel, just for a while. I… have a work trip, a conference,’ he went on falteringly. Lying badly.

And Sophie’s heart splintered. ‘Right,’ she choked, feeling the knot in her stomach tighten into a fist. ‘I have to go. Dinner’s ready. I’ll see you… whenever.’