take care of the kids for you. They aren’t a bother, you know that. Faith, you know if you want anything, that man is so wrapped around your finger he will give or let you do anything that you want,” I tell her. The little smile that forms at the corner of her mouth tells me she knows it as well.
“That’s what I’m counting on, Emma. Cami should be here in five, and Anya is playing in the nursery,” she tells me as her retreating form sashays out of the kitchen towards the hallway. The little swish in her hips, the confidence she portrays, is effortless.
I make my way towards the nursery. I hear the giggles as I get closer. I open the door and the baby gate to see Anya sat at the little table pretending to give a baby a bottle, and trying to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. She is so cute.
I walk towards her and kneel down to her level. “Good morning, little miss, and how are you today?”
“Emmmmmaaa. Look, I feed baby. She is hungry, so I do what people do to me when I’m hungry.” I love the way she speaks; it’s not fluent yet, but you can clearly understand what she is saying.
“Oh that’s nice, sweetie. It’s always kind to make sure no one is ever hungry. Are you ready to come downstairs? Charlie is coming to play.” I stand up and hold my hand out for her, getting a little flutter as her tiny hand wraps in mine. In this moment, there is pure love and trust shining in her eyes, and I know that this little girl never judges me on the actions of my past. To know that this little angel simply likes being in my company, makes every day seem that little bit brighter.
“Charlieeee coming to play?” she questions. I just nod my head in response and pick her up as we get to the top of the stairs. I carry her down the impressive staircase; her little legs wouldn’t be able to get her down them without help, and I love the fact that she still lets you pick her up to get her where she needs to be. The ruffles in her dress, the pigtails in her hair, her white patent shoes and white frilly socks make her seem like a little princess. No one can mistake this little girl for a boy. She is a proper daddy’s girl. She lives for her dad; he is her knight in shining armor, her protector, and the man who chases the monsters away.
He makes her giggle every day and always has time for her. He never tells her to go and ask her mum if she wants to do something with him, he makes sure he does it for her. It’s not a ‘being spoilt’ thing, it’s a ‘she is the centre of her dad’s world’, and that’s how it should be from what Faith has told me. He doesn’t want to turn into his father, and that is what makes him a better man in my eyes. He knows that he needs to be better than his father, and he tries every damn day to be what she needs, whether it be a protector or someone she can just chat to about her day. He always has time. When I see him every night putting her to bed, kissing the top of her head, whispering that he loves her to the moon and back, and she then falls asleep knowing that her daddy is only a name away, it melts my heart.
I had that with my dad, and now they think I’m dead. Grieving for a daughter they think they’ve lost, but she is hiding in plain sight. That guilt eats at me every day, but I’m ashamed to go home. I’m ashamed to even try right now.
We step into the living room. It looks like a playroom now; toys cover the corner of the room, more than any little girl really needs. Charlie is playing on the floor with a fire engine while Faith and Cami are sitting on the sofa, catching up, watching him play.
“Oh, there’s my little cutie pie. Come here to Auntie Cami so I can get my cuddle before me and your mummy escape.” I put Anya down and watch her little legs working hard to cover the space of the living room to get to Cami as quick as she can. She wobbles a couple of times, but she doesn’t go down. She manages to keep herself upright long enough for Cami to
Learning to Kill: Stories