The characters in this story are all over eighteen and the age of consent, sex if it happens is consensual. UK English is the rule: if the spellings Mum, arse or colour annoy you, don't go any further, for the rest of you enjoy.
*****
Jacqui touched the key to the lock warily, even after two years she never knew how her father would be. Drawing a deep breath she inserted the key firmly and unlocked the door, pushing gently to open the door. She slipped the key back into her purse and dropped that into her handbag. She looked down the hallway to the closed kitchen door. She could hear music, Fine Young Cannibals, she smiled.
Shutting the door she moved into the hallway of family home. The familiar painted walls that light blue, with white ceiling that had been there almost forever. She couldn't remember the colour previously, it didn't matter the pictures were the same. Her, her, her and Dad, Dad and Mum, Mum and her. Laughing, smiling, grinning, caught in that happy moment forever. Pictured in the garden, at the park, the beach, the hills, from half remembered holidays and days out. She smiled in remembrance and hope, soon, it will be like that again, only different, strange but exciting.
At twenty one she was tall, fine boned and willowy, her dark brown hair fell past her shoulders and her clear healthy skin glowed. Someone had once described her face as elfin, almost like Sandra Bullock or Liv Tyler, she never saw it, thinking herself just ordinary and plain. Her long thin elegant hands reached for the handle and she peeked into the kitchen. Beaming she saw her father cooking. An apron covering his neatly ironed shirt and work trousers.
"Evening Jacq, how's your day been?"
David Benjamin continued to chop the carrots into small chunks, grinning. Jacqui walked over and kissed his cheek, her hands finding his hips and securing him as she slid against him and sighed.
"Much better for seeing you, how are you doing?"
"As you can see, I'm good and sober, not a drop today, but I will be having a glass of wine with my meal, join me?"
"Sure, one is fine, I'm driving, so I need to be careful."
"Well I'm not, but in deference to your efforts I will limit myself to a glass and no more whilst you're here. I had hoped you'd stay over, first time I've had alcohol in the house, for..."
David trailed off and his eyes misted up as he thought back to the year before. He finished chopping the carrots and slid them into a waiting saucepan.
"Dad, don't, you're doing so well you're a much stronger person now. I know I can trust you, I have no reason to doubt you."
"I know, but you put in so much work, I don't want to ruin it."
"You won't, I know you, you're strong, it'll be fine, but okay I'll stay over, if you need me to?"
"I do, so ready to eat in forty five minutes, I'll lay the table,then I'll put the carrots on."
He handed Jacqui the saucepan with the carrots in, she placed it under the tap and filled it with water. Turning she placed it on the oven and added a lid and looked at the other pans. Potatoes and green beans, perfect. She followed her father into the lounge and helped him lay the table. He produced two wine glasses and winked. She grinned and went and hugged him.
David Benjamin was forty two, balding, average height and wore thick black rimmed glasses. Jacqui was his only daughter and he loved her beyond anything. He grinned and slipped his arms round her tiny waist. She snuggled into him and rested against his shoulder, her legs slightly bent to accomodate their height difference. Holding tight they both breathed evenly, enjoying the familiar feel of the other. Sarah, David's wife had died almost three years ago and he had been devastated. Turning to drink, he had tried to blot out his loss in an increasingly desperate alcoholic haze. Jacqui had her own place and so had missed the early signs.
About Two and a Half Years Earlier
Jacqui walked towards her father's house a scowl on her face, expecting the worse of all situations. Since her mother's death six months ago, her father had become worryingly unavailable for days on end. She knew he wasn't functioning properly, so she had phoned work to contact him and been put through to his line manager. The guy as a mate, was sympathetic, but as his boss had let slip that they were thinking of letting him go, as he was regularly late, abusive and his work was becoming more and more slapdash. In short he was a mess.
Seething Jacqui opened the door shouting out for him. Getting no answer, she began a trawl of the downstairs rooms. She found him in the conservatory, flat out on the bare wooden floor, vomit all around his head and on him. His trousers betrayed the fact he had been doubly incontinent, the stench was overwhelming. Jacqui reared back as the smell enveloped her. She shouted but he lay still, until sudden snort showed he was still alive. She walked over to his inert form and kicked his foot none too gently,
"Hey!.. Hey!.. Dad!.. Dad!.. Wake up.. wake up,"
She kicked him again, he stirred and tried to raise his head from the pool of vomit around him. Looking at her blearily he had tried to focus and failed, his glasses liberally plastered with his sick.
"Fuck off! Leave me alone and then just fuck right off!" he slurred and laid his head down.
Realising the floor smelt bad and was cold and sticky he moved his head, smearing more of the mess into his face.
Jacqui screamed at him, then spinning round went to the kitchen and filled the washing up bowl with cold water. She struggled back to the conservatory and upended the bowl over David's head. He gasped, spluttered and screamed abuse, sitting upright. Returning the bowl she came back with a towel. Throwing it at him she stood arms crossed above him.
"Wipe yourself down, you disgusting drunken piece of shit then get up and take those filthy clothes off, shower and clean up. I'll sort this shit out down here whilst you clean up, now go!"
He stood shakily and wiped his face with the towel, before staggering off towards the stairs, throwing the towel down at the foot of the stairs. Jacqui tears in her eyes refilled the bowl, finding a bottle of multi purpose cleaner and dish clothes went back to the conservatory. Working carefully she cleaned and cleared up the mess, lighting a candle to help eliminate the smell, as well as opening a window. She piled the wet stinking cloths in the refuse bin, then removed it and tied the tags, placing it by the back door to dispose of later.
As she finished she noticed her skirt had marks on it from the clean up. She frowned and walked up stairs to her old bedroom, she passed the open bathroom door and saw her father, one hand on the wall, naked trying to find his penis to pee in the toilet. Sighing she stepped in and taking his thin penis gently pointed it into the bowl. David's bloodshot eyes looked her up and down, but he said nothing. She felt the surge as his bladder voided its contents. She held his limp cock until he finished then shaking it let go.
Helping him into the bath cum shower, adjusting the water flow then flipping the lever, sending hot water cascading down on her father. Stepping back she closed the screen and watched as he sank to his knees, then knelt, the water battering him into a feotal crouch. She raised her eyes to heaven, then unbuttoning her blouse and removing it and her skirt, she stepped back into the shower area, clad in just her plain white bra and knickers.
Pulling him up she found soap and began to wash her father as one does a child. All the time David Benjamin, just gave her a sullen look and refused to talk to her. Finishing she stepped out and found a towel, wrapping him in it, she got him out and dried him carefully. Finally she toweled herself dry. Taking his arm she turned to the door, a towel over her shoulder.
Guiding him into his bedroom she found him pants, trousers, socks and a shirt. She dressed him and sat him on the bed. Going into her old room she found a serviceable skirt and blouse which she could wear to go home, she stripped off her sodden underclothes and finished drying. Dressing without underwear she returned to her fathers room. He lay back on his bed asleep, a snore starting. Brushing her hand through her hair, she cried silent tears. Lifting his legs she moved him onto the bed properly.
She pulled the light cover over him and went downstairs, his and her fouled clothes in her hand. Finding the tablets and softener, she loaded the washing machine and set the cycle, having scraped the worst of the mess off his clothes with toilet paper. Flushing the toilet she washed her hands thoroughly, feeling the hot water scald her hands, reddening them, until she could hold them under the flow no longer.
Wandering around the kitchen she looked for something to eat, she opened cupboards, the fridge and the larder increasingly desperately. Nothing, nothing at all. She sighed and found her shoes and handbag and keys. Forty minutes later she returned with five overloaded bags. Quickly she distributed the groceries into the various cupboards and fridge, as required, finally sitting down with a pork pie and a packet of crisps, she ate. Making a cup of tea she cleaned and tidied, before writing him a note, then leaving and locking the door. Carrying with her the washed but not dried, skirt, blouse and the still damp underwear she headed home.
Not hearing from him after three days, she went back on Saturday morning. Finding the front door still locked and chained she entered by the rear door. She heard him shouting incoherently in the lounge. Walking in she saw him sitting in his chair, a bottle of Scotch whisky clutched in his hand, shouting obscenities at the photo of her mother on the mantlepiece. Stopping only to take a large swig, he began again, then stopped, hung his head and cried, a loud wailing, tortured scream erupting from his mouth. It was an an obscene visceral scream as if his guts were being ripped out of him. He sobbed like a child.
Jacqui walked over to him and gently pried the bottle away. He grabbed her hand and held it tight. Pulling her to him, his whisky sour breath enveloping her, she struggled to control her emotions. Tears welled up in her eyes and she put the bottle down and returned his hug. He cried for thirty minutes, until there was nothing left. He gulped and gasped and fell back into the chair, pulling her with him. Sinking to her knees she continued to hug him, feeling pity, love and loss equally.
"Help me, Jacq, help me please. Help me end it, help me join her. I want to be with her, I can't do this on my own."
"Dad, you can't ask me that, you can't. I love you, but I want you here with me, I can't lose Mum and you. I need you too, I need you to be strong for me."
"I can't be strong anymore, I can't continue like this, I have nothing left to live for."
"You have me, I need you! I want you to be there for me. When I can't be strong I will need you Dad, please."
"You're all grown up now, you have your own life, I have nothing."
"I need you Daddy, I need you in my life, whether I'm grown or not. I need you, please Daddy, I need you to be here for me."
"Princess, I'm finished, done, I have nothing left, believe me I wish I had something but I don't."
Relaxing back into the chair, David touched her cheek with his fingers,
"You're very beautiful Jacq, you need to go and find yourself someone to care for you, don't waste time with me, go,"
He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, his hand cupping her chin.
"Daddy all I need is for you to stop drinking and clean up your act, then I might, might let you alone."
She smiled and returned his kiss, her lips barely touching the stubbly cheek she knew and loved so much.
"Ahh! is that all it'll take to get you out from under my feet, well why didn't you say so, sure it'll be easy, look, no drink, so now you can go,"
"You know what I mean, you have a problem Dad. You might not be an alcoholic yet but it's damn close."
"Well don't you worry, because I can do without the booze anytime I choose, but at the moment I just need a small little "Nippie Sweetie", just to get me off to sleep, you know how it is?"
"Really? So why at ten thirty in the morning do you feel the need to sleep then?"
"Don't push it Jacq, I just felt the need for a quick drink and.."
"You didn't want to bother making tea, right?"
"Something like that,"
"God Dad, you should hear yourself. Any excuse for a drink, you have a problem, and you need to admit it and take action, or you'll end up a dead in a gutter, or worse."
"Don't you talk to me like that young lady. I am your father!"
"Well fucking act like it then. I'm hurting, I miss Mum too, but I need you and you're too busy getting pissed and feeling sorry for yourself!"
