In the last letter mummy had from France, daddy said he loved us and would be home soon.
Daddy lied; he didn’t come home and he must have lied about loving us, cos’ if he really loved us, he would have come home, wouldn’t he – if he could.
Mummy said he was just missing – well I’m missing too. I wonder if mummy has pain in her heart because I’m missing; like the pain, that squeezes my chest so tight my tears are trapped, because my daddy lied; and lies are bad and not good.
I’m on the bridge where I said goodbye to my daddy. I thought he might still be here and hadn’t gone anywhere at all; but there is no-one here and it’s lonely and quiet – not even any trains screaming and screeching their brakes.So I shall be quiet and not even cry. You don’t cry when you’re missing.
He’s not coming is he?
That’s why there is no screaming trains; because he’s dead and when you are dead everything is quiet and your not missing anymore.
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