“Your father loved me sexually. A lot. Is this alright to say? Do you want to know? Is this what I should be saying to my daughter? I don’t know what’s right or wrong. I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to be inappropriate.”
“Now? Now you worry about being inappropriate?” Emer’s bitter words escaped her mouth like a whiplash, and she blinked, shocked. She thought she had only thought them. But, looking at her mother’s stricken face, it appeared she had actually said those words out loud.
Margot felt the sting. But something in her realised she had to sit there and take it. This was grief. This was a family in grief. This is what happens. Shit hits the fan. The stones get lifted, and the long-hidden worms writhe around in the light.