Page 140 of Take Me Away
‘Son.’ He steps into the room, sits on the edge of the bed beside me. ‘That girl’s had her whole life ripped open for the world to see. Every person in this village has seen her at her most vulnerable. You think she could look any of us in the eye this morning? You think she could face Maisie knowing what those photos mean?’
‘She could have trusted me.’
‘Could she? You spent ten years hating her for leaving the first time. What’s she supposed to think you’d do now?’
The words land like a punch.
Because he’s right.
I did hate her. I did blame her. I never once considered that maybe she had reasons for staying away. Reasons that had nothing to do with not loving me and everything to do with protecting me from seeing exactly what I just saw.
‘How do I tell Maisie?’ I ask quietly.
‘Tell her the truth. As much of it as she can handle.’ Dad’s hand lands on my shoulder. ‘And then you figure out what you’re going to do about it.’
‘What can I do? She’s gone, Dad. She ran.’
‘So did you. Ten years ago.’ His voice is gentle but firm. ‘You let her go to London alone because you were too scared to follow. You going to make the same mistake twice?’
Before I can answer, Maisie’s back. Changed into jeans and her favourite purple jumper. Hair still wild. Face solemn.
‘Okay,’ she says, climbing onto the bed beside me. ‘I’m ready.’
I take a breath. Let it out slow.
‘Isla’s gone back to London, love.’
Her face crumples. ‘Why?’
‘Because … some people have been saying really horrible things about her. Mean things. Lies. And it made her feel like she couldn’t stay here anymore.’
‘What kind of lies?’
‘Grown-up stuff. Complicated stuff.’ I’m fumbling, can’t find the words. ‘But the important thing is, none of it’s true. None of it’s her fault. But people can be cruel, and she … she needed to go somewhere she felt safe.’
Maisie’s quiet for a long moment, processing. Then: ‘Did she leave because of me?’
‘What? No. No, Mais—’
‘Because of what kids might say at school? About the photos?’
Ice floods my veins. ‘How do you know about—’
‘Grandad told me. He said some bad man put private pictures of Isla on the internet to hurt her. And that I might hear kids talking about it at school.’ She looks up at me with those dark eyes that are too old for eight. ‘Is that why she left? So I wouldn’t be embarrassed?’
I pull her close, press my face into her hair. ‘Isla left because she thought it would be easier for everyone if she wasn’t here. Because she didn’t want to make things hard for us.’
‘But I don’t care about stupid photos!’ Her voice is fierce now, muffled against my chest. ‘I don’t care what anyone says. I just want Isla to come back.’
‘I know, love. But it’s not that simple—’
She pulls back, looks at me with the kind of determined expression that reminds me she’s my daughter.
‘Dad, we’ve got to go and get her back.’
‘Maisie—’
‘We have to! She’s probably really sad and scared and she thinks we don’t want her anymore. We have to go tell her we do want her. That we don’t care about any of it.’
