“Of course she does. Cornish beaches are the best in the world. Now, how are you?”
“I’m good,” Carrie said. “Feeling a bit weird today, thinking about Dad.”
“What about him?” asked Ellen, instantly more alert.
Carrie felt herself clam up like she always did on the few occasions she’d tried to speak with her mum about her father. She had to continue now she’d started though and her mum would want to know how she felt. She took a deep breath before answering, “Just... never being able to find out why he left us. Why he thought a life with someone else would be better...”
“Oh, sweetheart, does it matter why?”
“Maybe not . . .”
“We were better off without him,” Ellen said, firmly. “I’ll never understand how he could have abandoned you like that.”
Carrie felt the corners of her eyes begin to prick.
“Hey,” said Ellen gently, concern etched all over her face. “What’s brought this on?”
“I’m not sure.” Carrie sighed. “I guess I’ve just always wanted to speak with him. To find out why he did what he did, and, I suppose, if he regrets it. Tony going off to Germany for the summer has made me think about it more, I suppose.”
“You know my feelings about Tony, but even I can see that what he’s doing isn’t in the same league as your father’s actions.”
“I know.”
Ellen said, quietly, “You never told me you wanted to see him.”
“I didn’t want to upset you. I know how much he hurt you,” Carrie explained. “I don’t want to forgive him and fall sobbing into his arms or anything. Just to see him and talk with him. But when someone disappears on you, that’s sort of hard to do.”
Ellen was silent for a moment before she said, “I have an address for him. An old address. I’ve got no idea if he’s still there or not.”
Carrie felt her heart leap up into her throat. “You have?”
“Yes, a few years after your father left, a mutual friend gave it to me. I have no idea how she got it. I imagine he needed something from her and so had got in touch. Anyway, she felt bad knowing and gave it to me, presumably expecting me to go and chase him down and attempt to drag him back to us. Needless to say, I didn’t do that. I would have given it to you before if I’d known how you felt, but you said you never wanted anything to do with him. I can hunt it out for you if you like.”
“Would you? Are you OK doing that?” The last thing Carrie wanted to do was to hurt her mum’s feelings. Her father’s actions had done that enough.
“Yes,” Ellen said, resolutely. “I’ll go and look for it now and message it to you.”
“Thank you, Mum. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
* * *
Carrie tried to focus on anything other than watching her phone, but it was pointless. As she emptied the dishwasher and tidied up, she paced around, glancing at it lying on the kitchen counter like it was going to explode.
Finally, after about a quarter of an hour, her mum sent the address. Carrie sent her thanks and then quickly put the address into Google Maps — her father was, or had been, living in a small town in Somerset, about half an hour’s drive south of Bristol . . . It would take about three hours to get there by car . . . Which meant it was doable in a day.
Carrie shook her head; she was being ridiculous. She’d waited more than thirty years to meet her father and could wait a while longer. There was absolutely no need for her to rush into anything. But then she was hardly rushing. She’d waited a long time to be able to do this, or potentially do this... She shook her head at herself. There was no guarantee that her father would still be living at the address her mum had . . . But she had to try, didn’t she? Even if he wasn’t there, maybe she’d be able to find out where he was. Plus it was a Sunday and she didn’t need to open the shop. It was the ideal day for a road trip.
A day stuck in the car wouldn’t exactly be much fun for a six-year-oldthough. It would definitely be easier if she didn’t have Poppy with her. She felt selfish saying that, but it was true. It could also be quite an emotional encounter, which she didn’twant Poppy witnessing, and just how would she explain to her what was going on? Maybe it would be better to leave it until another time... Or not to go at all.
Poppy came bounding down the stairs. “Good morning, Mummy!” she said enthusiastically, coming over to give Carrie a hug.
“Good morning, Pumpkin.” Carrie kissed her daughter’s head, taking a second to appreciate how incredibly lucky she was to have her. “Shall we go out and get some croissants from the bakery for breakfast? We could eat them down by the harbour.” She hadn’t taken Poppy down to the town’s little harbour, which lay in the opposite direction to where they tended to walk on the beach.
“Yes, please!” Poppy ran off to get dressed. Carrie watched her go and resolved to put aside thoughts of visiting her father for a little while. It wouldn’t be fair to drag Poppy off on a potential wild goose chase. She’d go when they were back in London and her mum could look after Poppy for the day. But, oh, it was painful finally having a lead on how she could find her father and not being able to do anything about it!
They headed out to the bakery, which already had a small queue forming outside. They joined the end of it stoically and were on about their twentieth round of rock, paper, scissors, when Poppy said, “Look, Mummy! It’s Michael and Monty!”
