He’d told me if I ate apple pips then trees would grow in my stomach.
He’d told Mama he loved her more than anything, even chocolate cake.
He’d told Auntie Becky he couldn’t leave us for her.
It wasn’t true, any of it; I could feel it in my gut. I heard Daddy and the traitor whispering in the kitchen, their branches entwined, blocking my fruit bowl.
‘I just can’t,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry.’
But I knew what would happen when I told Mama the truth.
We watched them drive away, our tears unstoppable. A half-grown orchard died inside me.
About the author
Hannah Retallick is from Anglesey, North Wales. She was home educated and then studied with the Open University, graduating with a first-class BA (Honours) Arts and Humanities (Creative Writing and Music) degree, before passing her creative writing MA with distinction. Her work has been placed and shortlisted in several international competitions. https://www.hannahretallick.co.uk/about Did you enjoy the story? Would you like to shout us a coffee? Half of what you pay goes to the writers and half towards supporting the project (web site maintenance, preparing the next Best of book etc.)
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