Chapter 6 - Dad Knew Enough
Dad asked to meet me alone.
We sat in a café halfway between my house and theirs.
He looked exhausted.
“Your mother says you’re trying to have her removed as trustee.”
“I’m asking for an independent trustee.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No.”
I stirred my tea.
“I’m also willing to step aside.”
That surprised him.
“What?”
“I don’t need to control the trust.”
“Then why all this?”
“Because neither child’s money should depend on which adult is winning a family argument.”
Dad stared at me.
“That’s not what your mother thinks.”
“I know.”
He looked toward the window.
Then said:
“I knew about the paper.”
“The retirement deed?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know about the trust withdrawals?”
“Some.”
“How much?”
“I knew Clare needed help.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
His face tightened.
“I knew Pauline used trust money for school.”
“That can be legitimate.”
“And other things.”
“How much?”
“I didn’t know exact numbers.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
There it was.
Dad’s lifelong position.
Not lying exactly.
Avoiding the amount of truth that would require action.
“Did you know they wanted to provoke me at the party?”
His eyes moved.
My stomach dropped.
“Dad.”
“Your mum said if people saw how unreasonable you’d become, maybe you’d finally agree to step back.”
“What did she think I was going to do?”
“She thought you’d make a scene.”
“And you moved Norah’s cake.”
He closed his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have.”
“You handed her presents to Olivia.”
“I know.”
“You told a five-year-old it might teach her not to carry on.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
His answer came quietly.
“Because your mother was already angry, Clare was upset, everyone was watching, and I wanted it finished.”
I stared at him.
“So you sacrificed the easiest person.”
He looked confused.
“What?”
“Norah.”
My throat tightened.
“She was five. She couldn’t make your life difficult afterward.”
Dad began crying.
I had almost never seen my father cry.
For one dangerous second, I wanted to comfort him.
Then I remembered Norah clutching that tea towel beside the cake.
I let him feel it.
He eventually said:
“I didn’t know they’d bought the presents with trust money.”
“I believe you.”
He looked up.
That did not mean I excused him.
Dad had not designed everything.
He had participated because resistance was uncomfortable.
That still mattered.
Before leaving, he said:
“Your mother is terrified.”
“Of court?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“That if this gets audited properly, there’ll be more than Clare’s house money.”
I stopped.
“What more?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
May you like
This time I believed him.
Which meant the trust problem was larger than I had seen.
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