Chapter 58: Chapter 58

Fifty Eight - Roof over my head.

I watch as his old sports car chugs to a halt in front of me and he turns off his engine. He opens the driver door before stepping out slowly, his arms outstretched. I immediately fall into them, his comfort sealing over my pain a little.

"Shh Elly, it's going to be okay."

"Oh Grandad, it's all such a mess," I whisper, inhaling his woody scent. His presence immediately calms me down and he pulls back, sadness filling his eyes. His hand reaches up, wiping tears away that I didn't even realise had fallen —

"You should have rang me sooner sweetheart."

"I didn't want to upset you Pops," I respond truthfully, giving him an apologetic smile. He shakes his head sadly, motioning for me to get in the front seat.

"We'll talk more once I get you away from here Elly," he says softly and I nod, opening his front car door and taking a seat, placing my bag near my feet. He turns the key in the engine and motions for me to pull my seatbelt over. I obey and sniffle, wiping away the unshed tears from the corner of my eyes.

"How does a hot chocolate and apple pie sound honey?" He says, driving down the road. I smile warmly at him, my eyes glistening with pain and tears.

"That sounds great Pops."

*****

An hour later, I'm settled in Gran's old pyjama's with a warm hot chocolate in my hand. A blanket is draped over my knees, providing me warmth. I've showered, removing last night's makeup. My hair is clean and drying naturally, falling down past my shoulders.

"Are you sure you don't mind me wearing Nana's pyjama's?" I ask him, looking up at Pops as he enters the room. He shakes his head at me, placing a small plate of pie in my lap. The delicious smell instantly wafts towards me and my stomach grumbles loudly causing Grandad to chuckle —

"Of course I don't mind Elly, you remind me so much of her," he says sadly, his eyes full of love as he speaks of Nana. I swallow the lump in my throat, remembering the news that she'd died a few years ago. Trevor wouldn't let me go to her funeral and I cried for days, locking myself in my room. I'll never ever forgive him for forbidding me to say goodbye.

"I miss Nana so much," I mumble, settling further into the couch.

"She missed you too, once your father died we never really saw much of you. . . "

"My father dying changed lots of things," I mumble, averting my eyes away from him. Moments of silence pass and when I look back up at Pops, his eyes glisten with tears.

"You know now that he wasn't your biological father?"

I nod grimly, the pain still clear in my chest. "He'll always be my father," I whisper quietly. Pops places a hand on my knee, giving me a reassuring smile.

"I always liked him, he was a good man and absolutely adored you. His little princess, that's what he called you."

I smile warmly at him before a thought crossed my mind —

"Did Dad know I wasn't his?" I ask and Pops looks away sadly, nodding at my question.

Wow. I have no words.

There are so many secrets within this family, I'm struggling to keep up. I look away, feeling hurt that I was kept in the dark from all this. I'm the one who it would effect the most yet no-one told me. As if Pops could read my thoughts, he spoke up again —

"You adored your father Emily and your real father wasn't someone suitable to be in your life. You were such a delicate little thing and he was a nasty piece of work. That's why we didn't tell you, it would break your little heart."

I nod at his words, understanding where he's coming from. Jones isn't exactly the type of father who would tuck you into bed at night and read you silly animal stories, doing all the voices.

My hand hovers over my stomach and I silence, debating on whether I should tell Pops what happened. They'd kept me in the dark over so many things and now here I am, doing the same.

How exactly do you tell your grandad your real father shot you and put you in a coma for several weeks?

So that's exactly why I decide to keep quiet about it, I don't want to hurt him any further.

"What happened Elly?" He asks me quietly and I inhale a deep breath, knowing he would ask this question soon enough.

"I don't think I want to talk about it Pops," I shake my head sadly, feeling fresh tears form at the brim of my eyes. I think of Jake, his beautiful smile and the cheeky glint in his eyes.

How can someone so precious to me be involved in something so evil?

"That's okay honey, whenever you're ready, I'm here. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need."

I nod thankfully at him, giving him a warm smile.

"Thank you, I didn't have anywhere else to go," I say truthfully. There's no way I'm going back to live with Mum and I explained that to Pops on the phone.

"It'll be nice having some company, I get lonely sometimes," he says, taking a bite of his pie. I immediately feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. Sadness washes over me as I realise I haven't visited him once since leaving Mum and Trevor.

"I'm here now Pops" I say quietly and he gives me a toothy smile which I happily return. Even though my heart is broken and my life is a mess, I know I can rely on my Pops to get me through it.

*****

I pack away the very little things I bought with me and take a seat on the bed, looking around. The room is much smaller than I remember and the decor has changed slightly.

The walls of my new bedroom are painted a cream colour, paintings of the countryside hung up on the walls. The furniture is an oak chestnut colour and consisted of a small dresser and bedside table. There's a handmade woven rug full of warm pink, red and brown tones at the foot of my bed with a matching blanket. I smile warmly, stroking the fabric.

It looks like the work of Grandma. She loved to knit, crochet and design home decor.

"Do you remember this room?" Grandad appears at the doorway and I nod, looking around once again.

"How can I forget? Some of my best memories are in this room," I respond fondly, remembering how I adored this room as a little girl. I would spend endless hours on the floor, drawing little pictures before hanging them up, covering the walls with them.

"Maybe now you can create some more," Pops responds, entering my room. I shuffle further up my bed, making room for him and he thanks me, taking a seat on the end.

"I have something for you," Pops says, holding out his hand. I glance down an gasp at the dainty chain he's holding in his hand. It's simply beautiful, the chain glistening in the light. At the end of the chain lies a little bird charm and I reach for it, holding it gently. My fingers brush over the bird pendant, feeling how smooth it is under my skin.

"I love it," I breathe out, leaning forward to embrace Pops in a hug. He pulls back and takes the necklace from me, motioning for me to turn around.

I lift my hair and feel the cool chain slide against my neck before he clasps it at the back. I run my fingers over it and turn, beaming at him.

"It's beautiful Pops."

"It was your Nana's. I bought it for her on her eighteenth birthday. She absolutely adored it."

"Oh grandad, I can't take this," I shake my head sadly. He put out his hand, waving my words off —

"Nonsense, it's been sat in a drawer for years. At least I get to see it be put to good use now," he smiles and I feel my heart warm for my love for him. He's such a genuinely lovely caring man and I'm proud to call him my Pops.

*****

That night I lie in my new bedroom, wide awake staring at the ceiling. The patterns start to blur together and even when I shut my eyes tightly, sleep never comes. My body is exhausted but my mind is chaotic, countless thoughts running back and forth.

So I lie there till the sun rises, peeking through my curtains. I thinking about everything, the roller coaster of my life the last few months.

Jones, Dad, Mum, Pops, Jake. . .

Not one single tear falls from my eye as I'm officially drained from crying any longer. I'm dried up, emotionless as I lie there, my life falling apart piece by piece.

I'd lost my family and my boyfriend all within a space of a few months. Trevor tried to kill me and almost succeeded. I'd found out my father wasn't my real father. I'd found out my real father was actually a deranged psycho cop that should have been locked up years ago. I've been shot, beaten, put in a coma. My body is shutting down from years of pain and misery and my mind is going downhill with it. My mental health is at an all time low and I feel trapped inside a dark hole, alone.

The only person I have left is Pops and I know I couldn't stay under his roof forever. He's an old man, I couldn't burden him with the pressure of looking after me.

I sigh quietly in the dark, the sound echoing around the small room. Looks like I'm on my own from now on.