**Diary Entry 12th October**
Mum shrieked, Youve betrayed me! while Dad vanished without a word.
I was fast asleep when the phone shattered the night. Gripping the receiver, my heart pounded in my chest.
Emily! Mums voice trembled with desperation. Come now! Immediately!
Mum, whats happened? I jolted awake, fighting the rising panic. Another row with Dad? Youve spent your lives like thissort it out yourselves!
Theres no one left to row with! she cried, voice breaking. Your fathers gone!
Mum is Dad dead? My blood ran cold, my body frozen.
Just comesee for yourself! she snapped. This isnt a phone conversation!
See *what*? I nearly shouted in confusion.
Just *come*! The line went dead.
Shaking, I scrambled to get ready. I raced to the family home in Surrey, dreading what awaited me.
Emily! Hurry up! Mums voice rang like a death knell.
What now? I muttered, rubbing my bleary eyes.
What *now*? Im at my wits end, and she asks *questions*! Mum was near hysterical.
Mum, its seven on a Saturday, I tried to reason, though unease twisted inside me. Ive got plansthe kids, James. Explain properly, or Im not coming.
You wont *come*? She gasped, outraged. Do I mean nothing? You dont care about my pain!
Mum, you and Dad have bickered my whole life, I cut in, exhausted. Im tired of being your referee.
Your fathers *gone*! she screamed before hanging up.
Whats this about? James grumbled, rolling over in bed.
Something serious, I murmured, still reeling. I have to go.
Theyre unbearable! he fumed. Doesnt she realise youve got your own family?
James, not this again. We dont choose our parents, I sighed. I *have* to go. Youll manage the kids.
Like I havent before, he grunted. Tell your mumif she calls like this again, Ill file for divorce.
I raised a brow. Seriously?
No, obviously, he smirked. But she needs scaring. Maybe then shell get it.
She wont, I muttered, packing my bag.
That house had always been a battleground. MumMargaretshrieked endlessly, while DadWilliamstayed silent, lips pressed thin. Outwardly, he ignored her rants, but I knew betterinside, he seethed.
The rows started when I was a teen. At first sporadic, then daily. Mums shrill voice carried, scandalising the neighbours. Even the old men on the bench tutted: How does he live with that? Poor sod.
No one asked how *I* survived it. From the outside, we were perfectDad ran a university lab, provided well; Mum stayed home, caring for me. Though caring was generous. She controlled everythingDad, me, even the cleaner Dad hired to help. A wasted effort.
The fights grew uglier, public, vicious. I was just another piece of furnituremy feelings didnt matter. I dreamed of escape. And I did. I left for uni in London, rarely visiting. But each return was poisoned by their screaming.
Once, Dad finally snapped: What do you *want*, Margaret? The moon? Stunned hed spoken back, she laughedthen went quiet. Briefly.
At my wedding, Mum outdid herself. Pulling Dad aside, criticising everything, then snatching the mic from the toastmaster: *Ill* do ithe cant be trusted with anything important! Guests exchanged glances; I burned with shame.
Afterwards, Dad secretly bought me a flat in London, swearing me to secrecy. I only told James. Blimey, hed said. Hope we never have secrets like that. Never, I smiled. I take after DadI hate conflict.
The memories flooded me on the drive. I braced for the usual complaints, Dads weary eyes. But reality was worse.
Mum wrenched the door open, wailing: I gave him *everything*my youth, my life! And this is his thanks!
Mum, wheres Dad? I gripped her shoulders.
He *left* last night! she sobbed.
*Left*? The floor lurched beneath me.
He packed his things and walked out while I slept!
Have you called him?
Of *course*! He wont answer! You tryhell talk to *you*!
I dialled. Dad answered instantly, eerily calm. I know why youre calling. Ive earned my peace from your mother. Staying with a mate for now. If you need me, Im here. For *you*.
Dad, where *are* you? I asked, feeling Mums glare.
The countryside. For now. Well see. Alright?
Alright, I whispered.
What did he *promise* you? Mum shrieked. That *traitor*!
Mum, *enough*! Hes not a traitor. Hes exhausted by your drama.
Thats what he said?
No, *me*. Hes with a friend. Hell come backjust wait.
He never did. Mum hunted down his address, stormed over, hammered the door. No answer. She called relentlesslysilence. Convinced he had a mistress, she found nothing. Her fury grew: How *dare* he leave without reason? Am I *nothing*? she sobbed.
Finally, I snapped: Mum, he doesnt want forgiveness. Hes not divorcing you, still pays the bills, blames you for nothing. He just wants *peace*. Hes had enough.
*Hes* had enough? she screeched. *Im* the one who suffered! Her voice broke, collapsing at last, as though the truth had pierced her like a knife.
