Nothing's Fair in Love and War

Chapter Eleven - 'we all make mistakes sometimes'

“What time do you call this?” Harold's voice boomed across the hallway as Kath's plan to sneak past him to her bedroom crumbled in front of her.

“Um,” Kath shuffled awkwardly, staring down at her feet.

“TWELVE B**** O'CLOCK!” her father yelled, his voice shaking the whole house.

Kath glared at him. “Every teenager does it at some point.”

“That doesn't mean it's okay!” Harold shouted back with even more fury. “I've been out of my mind with worry!”

“Really? At least you care,” Kath said, spite aimed at the one person who would never hear it. Her mother.

“I do care, So much.” her father replied, collapsing on the floor as he burst into messy tears. “Why can't you see that?”

“Dad!” Kath cried, running over to her sobbing father. “What's going on?”

“Daniel's run away,” he stammered, his voice shaking. “He's gone.”

Kath's mouth dropped open as she felt, not for the first time, suddenly selfish. She stared at her aging dad, his withering hair, his scuffed jeans, his tired eyes. Her dad was too old for this sort of thing. Too old for such drama.

“He'll be found,” Kath promised, though the uncertainty trembled in her voice. “Dad, he'll come home.”

“We don't know that,” Harold replied anxiously. “I've called the police. I've called your mother too, but she won't pick up.”

“Did he leave anything behind?” Kath asked, standing up.

“A letter,” her father said sheepishly.

“Well, where is it?” Kath demanded, looking around briefly.

“I ripped it up,” Harold looked down in shame.

“Ripped it up? Why?” Kath asked, trying to keep her temper down.

Harold shook his head. “I didn't want anyone to see what it said.”

Kath stared coldly at him. “I'm sorry I was late home, but you could at least humour me: what did it say?”

Harold paused for a moment. “That he'd run away. He said he wanted to go somewhere better, where people loved him and didn't spend all their time...”

Kath watched him trail off. “What?” she asked impatiently.

“Worrying about his attention-seeking big sister,” Harold replied hastily.

Kath's mouth dropped open. Her whole world seemed to spin in a dizzy, sick motion as it struck her again that this was her fault.

“I didn't want it to get out,” Harold explained, “I didn't want you to know and let it get to you. I didn't think anyone else should see it.” Looking at Kath's hurt gaze, he added, “because it's lies, Kathryn.”

“Is it?” Kath asked, voice hollow. “Really?”

Harold considered for a moment. “It has elements of truth. All teenagers crave attention. But it's certainly no reason for someone to run away, not on it's own. Don't blame yourself, Kath.”

“That's not the first time today someone's said that,” Kath exhaled. “I'm beginning to doubt the truth in the statement.”

Harold tried to give Kath a reassuring pat. “Darling, don't stress out over it. You've had a hard time. Why don't you go to bed now? Leave this to me?”

“I'm not deserting you,” Kath said, remark aimed again at her never-present mother.

“It's not deserting,” Harold replied, “I want you to sleep now.”