The Good Father Read Online Free PDF Page A

me.’ He laughed painfully. ‘You wouldn’t believe how long. Sometimes I don’t believe it.’
    He was standing over her. Gently nudging her foot with his he said, ‘I’ve never felt so much like a fifteen-year-old boy – not even when I was fifteen. Your fault – you shouldn’t be so sexy.’
    Standing up, she took the cigarette from him and inhaled deeply before handing it back. ‘Perhaps it would be better if I got a taxi home, Jack.’
    He stepped back from her. ‘If you like.’
    â€˜We’re both tired.’
    â€˜Yes. Of course.’ Then, tapping the cigarette ash into the dead fire, he said, ‘Did you enjoy this evening?’
    â€˜Yes, thank you.’
    â€˜I mean apart from just now. Apart from my disappointing performance.’
    She sighed. ‘Jack . . .’
    â€˜You’re very cool, aren’t you? It’s almost as if you want to give the impression . . .’ He snorted, shaking his head, his voice becoming bitter as he said, ‘Oh well, never mind, eh? Put it down to yet another experience.’
    She brushed past him. ‘Good night, Jack.’
    â€˜Wait.’ He caught her arm. ‘Val, wait . . . I’m sorry.’
    Shaking free of his grasp she gazed at him, keeping her anger in check only because he looked so miserable. He attempted to smile but his eyes gave him away. Perhaps they should just call it a day – but that was too cruel a thing to say to a man who looked like he was about to cry, who already felt himself to be humiliated. She pressed her hand against his cheek; softly she said, ‘I think you’re a lovely man.’
    He grasped her wrist, lifting her hand away from his face. ‘You think I’m a lovely man?’ He laughed nastily. ‘Jesus! Do you want to make that sound a little less patronising? What’s the next line? And I really like you but? Don’t you dare brush me off like this.’ He let go of her wrist abruptly. ‘Don’t you dare!’
    â€˜Because if there’s any brushing off to be done, you’re the one to do it?’ she retorted. Then, ‘Look, I think I should just go home.’
    â€˜Not yet. You can’t go yet.’
    â€˜You’re upset.’ Wearily she added, ‘Like I already said, we’re both tired.’
    â€˜I’m not tired. I’m not upset.’ He burst out: ‘I wanted tonight to be special.’
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜Well, you don’t have to sound so bloody resigned. You wanted it too – I know you did.’
    His hair was sticking up. Earlier she had undone some of his shirt buttons and now she could see his grey-white vest and a few wisps of chest hair dark against his pale skin. She remembered how lean and angular his body had felt against hers, how his urgent need for her had been a savage, mindless thrill. She had thought she’d experienced too much to ever feel so desperate for sex again.
    Reaching out, Jack touched her arm lightly. ‘Val? Don’t look like that.’
    â€˜Like what?’
    â€˜Like you’ve made a dreadful mistake.’ Suddenly he said, ‘I’m not boring really.’
    She laughed, astonished. ‘I never said you were!’
    â€˜But you think it. Actually, I am boring. Not when I was younger, but now . . .’ He pulled himself together. ‘You want to go home. I’ll walk you there.’
    They walked along the quiet streets in silence and Jack kept a small distance from her so that she felt stiffly self-conscious, as though she took up too much room on the pavement. The semi-detached houses of Jack’s suburb began to give way to the rows of terraces that in turn gave way to the High Street.
    As they turned into the last of these terraced streets, Inkerman Terrace where she lived with her father, Jack stopped. Taking her hand, he pulled her into an alleyway, backing her against the wall as he guided