He stands in the doorway looking just as stunned as I feel. His eyes are teary and his white lips are chapped and dry. I notice a slight droop on the right side of his face as he opens and closes his mouth several times.
"Alison! You look... I can't... Look at you! You're all grown up," he stammers.
I press my lips together trying to hold back the overwhelming waves of emotions crashing through me. I have so many questions to ask him, so many things I want to say but they all get lost before they make it to my lips. I can't speak. I can't move. I breathe in and out, trying to organise the chaos into a single file so that I can make sense of it.
"How did you find me?" I manage.
"Mr Lewis?"
I feel Jeremy's presence behind me and something inside me calms down just a little. I turn my head up to him as he puts his hand on my lower back, assuring me that he's with me. His ice-blue eyes are narrowed and cautious. His posture is straight, dominant, protective. My father lifts his eyes up to him and they widen slightly.
"Mr Cordina," he acknowledges in a familiar British accent I haven't heard in a while.
My eyes travel from one to the other. "Jeremy? What's going on?"
They both look at me shiftily. The silence in the room is so dense I fear the roof will cave in with the pressure.
"Will somebody say something?" I urge them.
My father's expression becomes alarmed at the hysteria in my voice but Jeremy simply increases the pressure of his hand on my back. Then he says to my father, "Why don't you come in, Mr Lewis? It's late you must be tired."
I step back as my father shuffles into the room, sets his bags by the door and takes a seat timidly on the couch. Jeremy's gaze follows him across the room and then, when my father is nice and restless on the couch, he turns to me. "Go sit down, Ally. I'll make coffee."
His voice is firm and demanding but secure and comforting at the same time. I obey him and take a seat next to my father, whom I haven't seen in almost five years.
I breathe in and out again until Jeremy comes back with three coffees. He sets a plain white mug on the coffee table and hands me my Bad Cop mug, his eyes carefully studying my face. The smell of anisette reaches my nostrils and I inhale it, willing it to flow straight to my head and then to the rest of my body. Jeremy sits down next to me and puts his hand on my knee. In any other situation, this would have sent my heart into a frenzy, but right now, it's the one thing grounding me to the here and now. We both look expectantly at Mark Lewis and I feel a small pang of guilt seeing him cower ever so slightly under our sharp gazes.
"Alison, I know you said you don't want to hear from me ever again," he starts bravely. "But, I'm your father."
I open my mouth instinctively, but Jeremy's hand squeezes my knee bracingly, convincing me to bite my tongue and hear him out. The lack of outburst encourages him to go on with his speech, which I know he must have practised over and over on his way here.
"I know I haven't earned the right to be called that, but I'm trying so hard to be a better person, Ally. For you! So that maybe someday you might allow me to be a part of your life again."
His darting eyes carefully avoid mine. In this moment, no one would believe that this man used to be one of the best lawyers in London.
"You were right. I was never there for you or your mother and you both needed me so much. I was never a brave man," he goes on. "I couldn't deal with her being sick and I couldn't deal with you being sad."
"I needed you!" I say with thinking. "You have no idea how badly I needed you. You don't know the things I went through after mum died. I couldn't find my feet. I jumped from one mistake to another and I made a complete mess of things and you didn't even have a clue! I cried so much every night and I had no one to turn to. No one who gave a shit about me."
He looks up at me, the shame in his eyes as obvious as a rescue flare in the night sky. "You didn't need me, Ally! I couldn't do anything for you. I was a mess myself! How could I have helped you? How could I have been a father to you when I was barely keeping myself going? Look at you! Your grandmother has done a much better job than I could ever have done!"
"Yes. Yes, she did. But you didn't know that when you sent me away, did you? You hated her! You kept us away from her for so long and then you just sent me off with her because it suited you!"
"Ally," Jeremy's voice says softly from behind me. But I keep going, unable to stop.
"You literally dumped me on a stranger's doorstep! Can you imagine how that felt?" I can see the effect my words have on him. His hands are shaking and his weak chin is quivering beneath his salt and pepper stubble.
"I'm not saying what I did was right. And yes, your grandmother and I weren't on the best of terms but... but I knew she'd take good care of you. And I'm not expecting you or Emily to forgive me for what I've done-"
"She's dead," I interject, unable to hear the sound of her name on his cowardly lips. "She got sick like mum. She passed in less than six months." I see my father shrink in front of me. "I tried calling to tell you. I even called your work but I couldn't reach you."
Jeremy's hand moves from my knee to my back and I take a sip of coffee, letting the comforting taste of caffeine and anisette fortify me. It's almost as if Millie is on my other side, her arm around my shoulders just above Jeremy's.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't here," he croaks. "I was in rehab. I've been in and out of rehab for the past two and a half years. I was disbarred. I don't have a steady contact number. I wish I can tell you I'm a changed man, Alison, but I still have a long way to go. I just want you to know that I'm trying. And for the first time in my life, when I got my allowance this morning, instead of going to the pub I went to the airport and bought a plane ticket to come see you."
"But how did you..."
Jeremy shifts uncomfortably beside me and my voice trails off as I realise there is only one way my father could have known where I was. He looks determinedly away from me as he takes a sip from his Good Cop mug. I breathe in and out again but I'm unable to keep the tears back any longer.
"I don't know what else to say, champ," my dad goes on, tears falling from his own eyes, making him completely unrecognisable to me. "If I tell you I'm sorry every day for as long as I live, it still won't be enough." His eyes finally settle on my face, taking in every inch of it. "You look just like her, Alison. Your eyes are just like hers. So kind! And you have that something about your face. I can't describe it but she had it too. It was some sort of magic she had that made her superior to everyone else. I swear it drove me crazy sometimes but... Oh, Alison, I'm so sorry!"
His hands drop to his lap as he breaks into sobs. I wipe my face with the back of my hands.
"Yeah," I breathe after a long pause. "I remember that about her. It made her seem invincible. Millie had it too."
And then we're both crying, mourning my mother together for the first time. He puts his arms over my shoulder and rests his forehead against mine.
Jeremy doesn't leave my side. His hand doesn't leave my back. We sit like that for what seems like hours, until our weeping comes to a natural end.
"It's late," Mark says after a while. "I should go. I still need to find a hotel."
He gets up with a bit of difficulty and Jeremy is on his feet before he can stand up straight. "Mr Lewis, please stay here tonight. I'll help you find a place to stay tomorrow. You can sleep in my study and I'll take the couch."
My father looks at me, seeking my permission. I stare back at him blankly, unsure of what to say.
"No, I couldn't possibly," he starts when I don't say anything.
Jeremy looks at me but doesn't say anything either. My father turns around and makes his way to the door but when his hand touches the doorknob, I jolt into action.
"Stay in my room," I hear myself say urgently. "I'll take the couch. I'm not working tomorrow and you must be exhausted. Both of you."
"I will take the couch, Ally," Jeremy starts.
But I shrug him off. "No, you sleep in your bed. Dad can sleep in mine."
My dad gives me a grateful smile. Seeing the determination in my eyes, Jeremy sighs resignedly and carries my father's bag off to my room. Mark gives me an awkward wave and follows behind him like a child.
#
I sit on the couch in the dark living room for a long, long time. It's quiet. So quiet. It's like the world has completely stopped. I finally stand and walk up to the door of Jeremy's study. I knock gently and wait for him to call me in. He opens the door a crack and I can instantly tell that, like me, he hasn't slept a wink.
He throws the door open for me and goes back to his bed, sitting on the edge and leaving ample room for me to sit next to him. But I don't follow him in. I lean against the doorway and look at him as he sets his elbows on his knees and hangs his head wearily. I see the muscles on his back and upper arms flex beneath his black t-shirt as he clasps his hands together.
"Thank you," I breathe out slowly. "I don't know how you did it but thank you."
He stares at the floor for a very long time, his beautiful face sad and grave.
"I'm going to be honest with you, Ally, I didn't think he'd ever show up. I've been chasing him ever since you told me you had tried to look for him and I never got anything back. I wasn't even sure the guys at the rehab centre were passing on my messages."
He pauses and rubs the bridge of his nose wearily before continuing.
"I know this isn't easy for you and I am the last person to preach about how important family is. My parents are atrocious but that's all they know. And I don't exactly make it easy for them. I never wanted the things they wanted for me and instead of standing up to them, I rebelled. I did everything in my power to instigate them. I spent their money on cars and parties and women. I came home drunk or high or both every night. I embarrassed them in front of their friends and spat at the opportunities they gave me without the slightest concern of how it affected them. All for a spot of attention. And now, I don't have a chance in hell to make things better. And I'm absolutely fine with that. But you're not me.
"Family has always been everything to you. And I know your father turned his back on you but he has been through a lot of shit, Ally! And I know you have too, but we all make mistakes, right? You lost your mother, but he lost his wife whom he clearly loved. He was left to take care of a fifteen-year-old daughter, keep up a very stressful job and deal with a very severe addiction. That's enough to make any man break. Shit, I wouldn't know where to start if..."
I look at Jeremy, who finally turns his face up to me. He looks vulnerable, honest and yet so solid. Probably the most solid thing I'll ever know. I give in to his pull, go to sit down next to him and rest my head onto his warm chest, inhaling him until I feel the cracks in my body get a little closer to each other. He puts his arm around me, cocooning me perfectly in the crevice underneath his chin as he lays me down with him on the bed. His sternum vibrates against my cheekbones when he speaks.
"I'm so glad you're not angry at me for doing this. I know you don't like me doing things for you without asking. I promise I'll learn someday."
"Don't," I tell him. "You did good, Jer."
He kisses the top of my head gently and I lift my eyes to meet his.
"So, what now?" he says into my hair.
"I have no idea."
He gives me his sarcastic half-smile and lifts a finger to my chin. He traces it along my jawline, up to my cheekbone and slowly grazes his thumb over my lips, his eyes exploring my face quietly.
"He's right though," Jeremy whispers slowly, "What he said about your face. Only it's not just your face, it's all of you. You're fearless. And anyone who looks at you can feel it. You're like some weird beacon of hope."
We both snicker softly but then his face is serious again.
"Did she know? Millie? Did she know about you and Sosa?"
The question is out of my mouth before I know I'm thinking it, and now that it's out there, I'm not sure why it even matters.
Jeremy studies me carefully. Then he answers, "Yes. Millie and I talked a lot. She knew how I felt about you too. She wanted me to tell you but I could never bring myself to. I could never understand the good she saw in me but she always insisted it was there."
Suddenly, all I want is to take his pain away. His childhood, his seditiousness, his lack of peace.
"You'll get through this, Ally," he says after a short pause. "You'll figure it out all by yourself because you don't need anyone. I wish you did because I don't really know how to handle people who don't need me or my money. But you really don't."
Now it's my turn to smile. "I think you handle me just fine, Jeremy James Cordina."
He looks down at me. I can't read his expression but I can tell his mind is struggling with something.
"You really have to stop saying my name like that, Ally."
"Like what?" I whisper back.
"Like it's yours."
A soft crease forms between his eyes and I instinctively reach out and smooth it out with my thumb. As soon as my skin touches his, he leans in and kisses my mouth and I kiss him back like it's the most natural thing in the world, like there's nothing else I should be doing even though I know I should be doing anything but this.
And when we both pull away gently, the kiss still lingering hot on our lips, I know the confusion is as evident in my eyes as the longing is in his. The harsh truth is written on both our faces but neither of us will dare say anything because no matter how many times we talk about this, nothing ever changes.
I smile ruefully at him and leave his embrace without saying goodnight. He doesn't breathe as he watches me leave his room. I leave his door open and he doesn't get up to close it.