**Diary Entry**
**10th June**
Today was the day I finally went back.
Dad and Margaret were having dinner when the front door swung open, and in walked a disheveled womanme. I tossed my old rucksack into the corner and spread my arms. «Alright, Dad, long time no see.»
Dad choked on his food, coughing violently. Margaret glared. «Who the hell are you? And whats this Dad nonsense?»
I squinted at her. «Mind your own business, love. Im not here for youIm here for my father. Dad, dont tell me youve forgotten me? Its me, your little girl, Lily. Years gone by, and I still cant let it go. Hows my old man doing? Not poorly, I hope?» I feigned a sniffle.
Dad finally managed to croak, «Why? Why have you come?»
«For my gift, Dad. That doll you promised me twenty years ago,» I smirked.
Mum died when I was seven. Dad lasted six months before bringing in Margaretand her two sons. First thing she did was kick me out of my room and shove me in with them. «The lads need it more,» Dad muttered, avoiding my eyes. They were older, rowdyripping up my schoolbooks, forcing me to rewrite homework by moonlight because Margaret wouldnt let me waste electricity.
Then, on my eighth birthday, Dad took me to a care home. «Its just for a little while, love. Ill visit weekendsbring you that big doll from the shop window, remember?»
I waited. He never came.
Now, I dropped into a chair. «Oi, Margaret, dish me some soup. Starving, and nowhere to kip.» I laughed at my own joke. She slammed a bowl down. I shook my head. «Years pass, and youre still tight-fisted. More, come on!»
Then to Dad: «Right, Dad, break your savingslets toast to reunion!»
Margaret hissed through her teeth, «We dont drink.»
I slapped my knee. «Knew it. But unlike you, I dont show up empty-handed. Margaret, fetch my bag.»
She flushed. «Get it yourself!»
I raised a brow. «Youre missing the point. Im not just visiting. Im moving in. You chucked me out oncesent me to a bloody institution. Now its your turn. Pack your bags, or behave, and maybe Ill let you stay.»
Margaret shrieked, «Stephen, are you just going to sit there? Your daughters bullying me!»
He shifted in his seat. «Lily, dont be rude. Margarets mistress here.»
I sighed. «Christ, youre whipped. Dont worry, Dad. Well sort this out. Maybe send her packing too!»
Margaret screeched, «Im calling my son! Hell throw you out!»
I smirked. «Tommy? Hed sell you for a bottle. Shame about your eldest, eh? Heard he drank himself into the ground. And the younger ones headed the same way.»
Margaret burst into hysterics. «Dont you dare! Look at yourselfliving in squalor!»
I shrugged. «Thanks to you. You landed nicelysnagged a widower, booted his kid, lived cozy. Bet you never thought Id come back. Well, I have. And Ill make your life hell.» I leaned in. «My blokes done three stretches. Hell be here next week. Well fill this house with grandkids. Proper family reunion, eh, Dad?»
Dad just nodded. I smirked at Margaret. «See? Nowbed. Im knackered. And light the boiler after. Need a wash.»
I pretended to sleep, listening. Margaret whispered, «You spineless git! Shes moving in with some convict! Theyll rob us blindor worse! Throw her out!»
Dad mumbled, «Shes my daughter. You made me abandon her once. I wont do it again.»
*Good. At least hes got some guilt left.*
A rustling made me peek. Margaret stood over me, clutching a pillow.
«Youll get nicked for that,» I said. She jumped.
«Justbringing you this. For comfort.»
I laughed. «Cheers. Nearly thought the worst. Boiler ready?»
She fussed. «Your dads on it. Hungry? I made pancakes.»
I eyed her. «Suspiciously nice. Poisoning me? Wont work. Stomach like iron. Youre still a snake.»
For a week, I ran her ragged. Finally, she begged, «Have mercy, love. Im not young anymore.»
I snapped, «Where was your mercy when you tore a little girl from her home? Ashamed? Im not. Youll pay for every tear.»
She knelt, sobbing. «Forgive me! Lifes punished me enough!»
I waved her off. «Fine, get up. Youre broken enough. Live as you were. Im leaving. No gift, eh, Dad?»
He scrambled. «Lily, take some moneybuy whatever you want!»
I shook my head. «Still dont get it. I didnt come for money. Just one wordthat you ever loved me. But nothing. Goodbye.»
I slung my bag over my shoulder and left. No one followed.
A car waited past the village. I climbed in and sobbed like a child. My husband pulled me close. «Told you it was a bad idea. Why dig up the past when youve got the present? Hurt?»
I looked up. «Yeah. I thought he loved mejust slipped up once. But they never even remembered me.»
He squeezed me. «Shouldve listened. Lets go home. The kids are asking for you.»
I wiped my tears. «Miss them too. Drive fast. Need a showerwash today away. But first, Mums grave. Brought flowers. Dad? Never had one, never will. Ive got you and the kids. Thats enough.»
The past stays past. But I had to try.
No regrets. Just Gods will.
