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best.’”
    “I can’t believe you called him.”
    “Oh,” she said, stopping mid-step to the oven before turning to face me, “and if you don’t go back to New York, I may be forced to call that man you are in love with too. Blake, wasn’t it?” She was smirking and mocking me. I hadn’t seen Mum smile or play like this for so long. My chest hurt from the love I was feeling for her in that moment.
    She turned and carried on over to the oven.
    “You wouldn’t.”
    “Oh, I would.”
    “You don’t even have his number.” I stated matter-of-factly.
    “Oh, I do. I took it from your phone just in case I got this reaction from you.”
    “You … you …” I was speechless and struggling to put two words together.
    “Look.” Mum placed the roasting tin in the oven and turned back to me. “I know why you want to stay; I do. And I understand. I love you, and that is never going to change, but if you want to do something for me, then go. If things don’t work out, then of course you can come home. This will always be your home, but I want you to go; I want you to make your Dad even prouder of you than he already was, please.”
    I sighed and closed the distance between Mum and me. “But I’m really going to miss you.”
    Mum wrapped her arms around me and breathed deeply. “And I will miss you too, but I need you to do this, for me and for your father.”
     
     
    I sat in front of Dad’s grave surrounded by the many flowers and wreaths that people had sent on the day of the funeral. Even now, almost two weeks after we had buried him, they continued to blossom. Some of the cards were fading, but I could still make out messages and condolences that had been sent.
    The whole thing still felt so surreal.
    Coming here to speak to my dad felt strange, yet comforting. I had felt his presence a lot over the past few days while I toyed with going back to New York. I suppose all I really wanted was some sort of sign from him, something from Dad that would tell me that going and leaving Mum here was what he wanted. I hated the thought that going could upset him; I needed his answer somehow, just a sign, just something that would ease the pain.
    I took a deep breath and began to talk. “Daddy,” My voice seemed to echo around me. I was alone except for an old couple in the far distance. I felt my eyes well up before the first tear escaped.
    “I wish I could have hugged you one last time, Dad. I wish I could have told you just how much I loved you. I know we talked to you in hospital, but not knowing whether you heard me just makes it so much harder. I really hope that you can hear me now. In fact, I truly believe that you can hear me now, can’t you.”
    I wiped my eyes on the back of my sleeve and took another deep breath.
    “Why did you have to leave us? Why couldn’t you have stayed, why you and no one else? You are the most amazing person I have ever known. You were the first man that I ever loved and I will always love you Daddy, always. No man that I will ever meet will ever compare to you, ever.” I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes yet again.
    “I don’t want to go back to New York, Daddy; I don’t feel that it’s the right thing to do. How can I leave Mum here alone? I feel like I’m abandoning her. It’s wrong; it’s just insane.” My voice was getting louder, and the more I thought about it, the more selfish I felt leaving her would be, whether she wanted me to or not.
    “But you know what she’s like.” I rolled my eyes and smiled. “She’s the boss, eh Dad? But I need to know what you want me to do. I want to do the right thing, Daddy, but I need you to somehow tell me what that is.” I looked up to the sky, waiting for some sort of sign from him.
    Looking back down to where his grave lay, I sighed.
    “I will never, ever forget you, Daddy. I’ve loved you from the moment I laid my eyes on you. You were the best daddy any girl could ever wish for. I hope that if I ever do get