Angel and the Assassin 3: Sins of the Father

tea.”
    “What’s his name?” I asked her. After seeing all the boys at school with their dads
    the day we all arrived, and hearing them talking about them, I really wanted to know.
    Mum said, “I’m not sure, Kael.” She went into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
    I followed her in. “You must know his name, Mum. Was he your boyfriend?” She
    was starting to get upset, but I was just a kid and I wanted what I wanted and that
    was to know something about my father.
    Fyn Alexander | Sins of the Father
    36

    Mum stood with the box of Typhoo tea bags in her hands, looking at me. She
    said, “I was only eighteen. I was working in the Adelphi Hotel as a chambermaid,
    and he was there as well. That’s all I know about him. Are you hungry again? Do
    you want some Jaffa Cakes?”
    I was always hungry as a kid because I grew so fast. Half of Mum’s wages
    probably went on feeding me when I was home. But I wouldn’t give up. I never did
    when I wanted something. “I just want to know his name, that’s all. Did you go on a
    date with him? He must have told you his name.”
    She was really getting upset now. “No, I never went on a date with him. Now shut
    up about it.”
    But I wouldn’t shut up. “You mean you just had sex with him? Just one time and
    that was that?”
    The kettle began to beep, and Mum turned her back on me to unplug it and pour
    the hot water into the mugs. She said, “Yes,” very quietly. I don’t know where my
    next words came from: cruelty, stupidity, ignorance? It could be any or all of those,
    but I’ve always regretted them. I said loudly, “Did he pay you?”
    Mum put the kettle down slowly and carefully without speaking. She turned and
    looked at me, and her face was so hurt and so sad that I hated myself. Mum had
    never laid a hand on me, not even when I was the most annoying little know-it-all
    sod in the world. But I thought she was going to then. She didn’t though. She said,
    “You little horror.” Never in my life had she called me a mean name. It was always
    luv or my big son or my Kael. Then she ran to her bedroom.
    For the next couple of hours, I sat on the couch, turning the television up louder
    and louder because I couldn’t stand the sound of her crying and I didn’t know how to
    make it stop. When she did stop and there was no sound from her bedroom for about
    twenty minutes, I made her a cup of tea and carried it in to her. “I’m sorry, Mum.
    I’m sorry,” I said.
    She drank the tea, and she gave me a hug.
    I spent the rest of the holidays trying to make it up to her without speaking
    directly about it. I had her meal ready every night when she got home from work
    even though I couldn’t cook and some of it was probably inedible. She always said it
    was great and ate it anyway. I cleaned the flat and did the washing up and generally
    tried to be a perfect son.
    I never mentioned my father again.
    Fyn Alexander | Sins of the Father
    37

    Chapter Three
    “I’ll see you tomorrow after school,” Kael said. They stood to one side as the other
    boys, all in smart uniforms, streamed in through the gates of Redmond Independent
    College. It was the first day back after the holidays, and everyone looked cheerful
    except Angel, who looked worried.
    “You’re not going out of the country, are you, Daddy? If I’m leaving in September,
    I don’t want you going away for days at a time.”
    Straightening Angel’s red-and-black-striped school tie, Kael said, “No. I’ll be in
    the city, and as I said, I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s not a dangerous job, and it’s only
    twenty-four hours.”
    Angel reached up to touch the outline of Kael’s gun secreted in a shoulder holster
    under his black jacket. He always wore all black on a job, smart trousers and jacket with
    a black crew-neck shirt underneath. No one looking at him would notice the gun, but
    Angel knew he always went to work armed. “You’re not wearing the heart necklace I
    bought you.” Kael had worn it every day since Christmas, but this morning he had left
    it on the bedside table.
    Taking Angel’s face between his hands, Kael kissed him tenderly on the lips. “No
    jewelry on a job. No identifying features.”
    “What about a tattoo?” Angel asked. “You would look so cool with a tattoo.”
    With a smile, Kael tapped his nose. “No tattoos either, and that goes for you as
    well.”
    An oversize lad of about eighteen walked past, looking at Kael.
    “That’s him, isn’t