Dad-daughter Stories

It was a regular Sunday dinner. Brother Leo had driven over with Mum’s car and picked me up. Dad would probably take me home later; he usually did. Leo often had a few ciders with lunch and so couldn’t drive, probably until Monday morning. As I walked in, I couldn’t see Dad; perhaps he was upstairs. I went into the kitchen and gave Mum a cuddle and a hug. “How have you been, sweetheart?” Mum asked as we disengaged, and sh...