Chapter 11
Every Sunday, I went to Mum's for lunch. I'd tried making my own Yorkshire puddings, but they just wouldn't rise. I still have no idea what I'm doing wrong. Hollyhocks was closed on Sundays, and I didn't work weekends, so we'd get together, and Mum would roast a chicken. It was a relaxed occasion and the conversation would flow freely. We'd always end up having a giggle.
That week I wasn't looking forward to going. The subject of Dominic's impending release was bound to come up, and I knew we would both be treading on eggshells, neither of us wanting to speak up first in case we hurt the other.
‘I went to see Anthony Griffiths yesterday,' I said, within ten minutes of entering the house. I'd have got indigestion if I'd eaten with that knotted feeling inside me.
We'd already spoken about the weather: how cold it was and how my car was struggling in the minus temperatures. I had said how the cooking chicken smelled delicious and asked if Mum needed help peeling the vegetables. Our body language had been stiff and the lingering looks fraught with tension. In the end, I had got fed up with biting my tongue and decided I would just have to deal with any fallout.
‘Who?' Mum asked, looking genuinely puzzled.
‘Anthony. Dominic's father.'
‘Oh. I didn't expect him to still be alive, for some reason.'
‘He's in his early seventies. Maybe. He could be older. I'm not sure.'
‘What about the mother?' Mum asked, her tone severe.
‘She died not long after Dominic was sent to prison. She killed herself.'
‘Did she?' Mum looked genuinely shocked.
‘Yes. Hanged herself from a tree in Axwell Park.'
‘Good grief. I didn't know her, but she seemed a very volatile person, especially the way she was when she came around to the house that time. The look in her eyes was frightening. How… how is Anthony?' she asked tentatively.
‘I'm not sure. I got the impression he's lonely. He misses his wife.'
‘How did he take it – you turning up on his doorstep out of the blue?'
‘He was fine. He smiled and looked happy, briefly, when I said he was my grandfather. There was a glint in his eye. He's not too keen on Dominic being released from prison.'
‘I'm not surprised,' Mum said, as she prepared the gravy.
I took the cutlery from the drawer and headed over to the table. ‘Would you like to see him?' I asked, my back to Mum.
‘What?'
I could feel Mum's gaze burning through my clothes.
‘Anthony. Would you like to see him?'
‘Why would I want to see him?'
‘Because he's lonely,' I said, turning around. ‘He's sad. I thought it might be nice for him to realise he has family.'
‘But he doesn't. He has his son. That's it.'
‘And me. I'm his granddaughter.'
‘Oh my God,' Mum said, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘I knew it was a mistake telling you. That's why I put it off for so long. That's why I had to get pissed to try and block everything out. Dawn, they're not your family. You've survived this long without Anthony and Dominic in your life. You don't need them.'
‘But Anthony needs me.'
‘No, he doesn't. Sweetheart, I don't want you getting involved with them.'
‘Why not?'
‘Because it's not going to be any good for you,' she said, almost snapping. ‘There's a lot of hatred towards Dominic in Newcastle. You weren't old enough to understand, but I saw it all.' She sat down with a slump at the table. ‘He denied killing her, but nobody believed that. His defence was weak. He could have admitted it, got himself a lighter sentence, avoided the pain of putting Stephanie's parents, and his own, through a lengthy trial, but he didn't. They had to sit through all the evidence and hear what he did to that poor girl. He was found guilty, and he should stay locked away for the rest of his life.'
‘Do you honestly believe that?'
‘Yes, I do.'
‘You don't believe in rehabilitation and people atoning for their crimes?'
Mum took a deep breath. ‘People like Dominic Griffiths don't atone for what they've done. You can't rehabilitate a psychopath,' she said slowly.
‘Then what's the point of prisons?' I asked, sitting down opposite her. ‘Why do we put people in prisons, if there's no chance of them coming out a changed person?'
‘They're locked away to protect the public.'
‘But if they're going to be locked away forever, why not just bring back the death penalty? Why not string them up in Eldon Square for all to see?'
‘Now you're being ridiculous. Sorry, but I just don't believe someone who doesn't admit to their crimes can be properly rehabilitated. He's never owned up to it; he's never apologised.'
I started to cry. I wasn't usually so emotional, but lately, it didn't take much to set me off.
‘I'm sorry to be so harsh,' Mum said. ‘I don't mean to hurt you, but you need to understand what a person like Dominic Griffiths is like.'
‘You're right. I do,' I said, after taking a deep breath.
‘What does that mean?'
‘I'm going to visit him in prison.'
‘What?'
‘I need to talk to him. I need to hear everything in his words.'
‘Dawn, that is probably the worst decision you've ever made. You'll regret it.'
‘I'm sorry, Mum, but I have to do this. I want to know if he's sorry for what he's done.'
‘And if he isn't?'
‘Then I'll know what kind of person he is.'
‘You know that already. Look at the crime. Look at what he did.'
‘I've looked,' I said, more tears falling. ‘I know exactly what he did. But I have to believe a person can regret their actions and be sorry for them. If I don't believe that, then how can I be a paralegal? How can I represent people in court?'
‘Shit!' Mum jumped up when she saw smoke coming from the oven.
I watched as she brought out the roasting tin and slammed it on the counter.
‘Well, dinner's bloody ruined,' Mum said. She stood on the pedal to the bin and threw the whole lot into it, including the roasting tin.
‘I'm sorry,' I said feebly.
‘I think you should go,' she said, turning away and standing at the sink.
‘Mum?'
‘I'm sorry your father turned out to be a murderer, but there's nothing I can do about that. I told you because I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I didn't want you hating me if he turned up on your doorstep wanting to meet his daughter. I honestly thought I knew you better than this.' I could tell she was struggling to hold onto her emotions. ‘You're making the wrong decision by wanting to meet him, allowing him into your life, and I know you'll regret it. I don't know what else I can say to make you change your mind.'
‘But there's a strong possibility he didn't do it.'
‘Dawn, I'm sorry, but we're in serious danger of falling out. I really think you should go.'
I looked at the back of her with wide eyes. I loved her with all my heart. Mum was hurting, that much was evident. But it takes two people to make a child, and what kind of a narrow-minded, bigoted person would I be if I took what the media said at face value? I needed to hear the truth from the only person who could give it to me.
I stood up slowly from the table and left the room, not once taking my eyes off my mother who was now audibly crying. I picked up my bag and coat from the hallway and left the house, closing the door firmly behind me.
I felt bad for upsetting her, but the truth was never easy to live with.