My father left the house twice a week for a few hours. Hed return full of energy and in a splendid mood. Soon, his secret was revealed.
I was only ten then, and my older brother, Thomas, was twelve. He spent his days playing in the yardwe didnt get along much. I helped Mum with chores. Dad worked at the factory, coming home late in the evenings. Mum would set the table, and wed sit down for dinner. Afterwards, Dad would slip on his polished leather shoes, linger before the mirror, and leave without a word. Mum would glare at the door after hed gone. I wondered where he went and why it angered her so. Later, hed return cheerful. Curious, I asked Mum why she got upset when he left.
She told me he had a mistress. I refused to believe itId seen how deeply he loved her. He wasnt capable of such betrayal. The next time he left, I followed him. His steps led to the Royal Opera House. He stepped inside, and I hesitated, torn between curiosity and fear. Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder. I turned to see a striking womana renowned actress. With her, I entered. Inside, the hall was packed with spectators.
There, on stage, was my father. I never knew he was an opera singer. And he was brilliant. He sang an aria, lost in the music, unaware I sat in the back row, tears of pride in my eyes. When he finished, the applause thundered. Flowers were handed to him as he bowed. After the show, we walked through Hyde Park, giddy with joy, before heading home. I whispered to Mum, “He doesnt have a mistresshe goes to the theatre.”
She smiled softly and whispered back, “I know.”
