She’s absolutely right. I think back over some of the places I’ve either called home or visited over the years, and in pretty much all of them, I encountered at least one person from Liverpool. How very strange. And now here I am, sitting in my old family kitchen, talking to another one without even really understanding what she’s doing here, or where my dad is – I can’t imagine a world where he would voluntarily leave this cottage.
I glance around the familiar kitchen, seeing it through fresh eyes. Young people live here, it’s obvious – there are childish paintings in bright primary colours held up against the fridge door by magnets, and the table is scattered with school reading books and crayons. The room smells sweet and fruity; Callyobviously has something delicious in the oven. A framed photo is on top of the mantelpiece, one that shows Cally with a man I recognise as Archie, even though I only met him once, on his wedding day. They’re with a stylish looking young gent, and two little girls. Little girls with bright red hair. I realise who they are, and my heart takes on a life of its own, palpitations thundering in my chest.
Why am I here? Why did I think this was a good idea, for anybody? I should have just stayed away…
Cally follows my eyes and sees my reaction. She lays a hand over mine, squeezing my fingers tight enough to distract me. ‘That’s my son Sam with us,’ she explains. ‘And the girls are Lilly and Meg. Though I think you know that, don’t you? Look, sorry if I’m adding two plus two and coming up with ninety, but… Are you Suzie? Are you George’s daughter?’
I manage to nod, and wonder how she knows. ‘George showed me photos,’ she explains. ‘Plus, well… The hair. Though yours is darker, isn’t it? More of an auburn than a copper… and you have a tan! I never thought redheads could tan! He said he got a postcard a while back, from Zanzibar of all places. I mean, to be fair, I don’t really know where that is, but it sounds very exotic… I’m sorry. I’m wittering, I know. He’s going to be so excited to see you. He’ll be here any minute!’
I look up abruptly at that last sentence. I came here to see him – so why do I suddenly feel like running upstairs and hiding in the wardrobe, like I always used to when I was little?
Cally takes in my expression, and smiles at me kindly. ‘Families are weird, aren’t they? But I promise you, he’s going to be thrilled. Don’t overthink it. Do you want some whisky in your tea?’
I’m sorely tempted but manage to decline. I hear the front door open at the same time as her, and we share a look. Shewhispers something reassuring, the words lost to me as I hear my dad’s voice.
‘Cally! I’m here – get the kettle on, I’ve a raging thirst!’
Despite my tension, despite my fears, that makes me grin. He always did love his cuppa, my dad – and he often had a raging thirst as well. Maybe he was the root of all my hydration obsessions.
Cally jumps to her feet, and I follow suit. I haven’t seen my father for fourteen years, and I have no idea how this will go. I should probably have called, or written, or sent a carrier pigeon. I should have warned him – what if he has a heart attack?
The door to the kitchen opens, and he strides through, accompanied by the fat black Labrador I was admiring earlier. ‘Zack’s off to London for an appointment,’ he says, ‘so I’ve got Bear for the night. We have grand plans, the two of us. We’re going to?—
He freezes on the spot when he notices me, confused as he stares from Cally to me and back again. The dog ambles right over and sticks his big head into my hands, and I oblige by giving him a scratch on the velvety ears.
‘Hi, Dad,’ I say quietly. ‘Surprise!’
FOUR
If I’d had any doubts about whether my father would be pleased to see me or not, they are squashed in three seconds flat – as am I. He moves across the room with shocking speed for a man of his age, and wraps me in his arms. He is tall, my dad, and he always gave very good hugs. Most of the time, once I was past little girl age, I was too much of a shit to appreciate them. But now? Now, I melt into his embrace and recognise it for the treasure it is.
He refuses to let go for what feels like an hour, and I am happy to cling on. When he finally lets me go, he holds my face between his hands, staring at me intensely, like he’s still not quite sure I won’t disappear in a puff of smoke. ‘Darling girl,’ he says, kissing me on the end of the nose just like he used to when I was a kid. ‘I can’t tell you how marvellous it is to see you! When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me? How long can you stay?’
He peppers me with questions but doesn’t give me much time to answer any of them. Things get even more chaotic when the dog lets out a happy woof, and ambles into the hallway when the front door opens again.
‘Archie!’ George cries out, nothing but joy in his tone no matter how I poke and prod and look for signs of discontent. ‘Archie, look! My Suzie’s home!’
Archie looks surprised as he enters the room, and even though he’s quick to try and hide it, I notice a flicker of caution cross his face. I know Cally spots it too, and their eyes meet for reassurance. His daughters chase each other into the room right then so he doesn’t get the chance to say anything, which is possibly a good thing.
My dad leads the two girls over towards me, a hand on their shoulders, and says: ‘Lilly, Meg – this is your Aunt Suzie!’
The two of them size me up, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so scrutinised in my entire life. The older one, Lilly, must be ten now, and she is obviously the tougher nut to crack. She looks at me slightly suspiciously, while Meg seems delighted to be in my presence. I can’t help being reminded of me and Sandy at their age – I was cynical even as a kid, whereas she was all wide-eyed joyfulness. They both share Sandy’s colouring though, with her pale skin and red hair that’s been done in neat and intricate plaits.
‘I like your braids,’ I start with. ‘I can never get mine to behave like that.’
‘Ask Cally,’ Meg tells me. ‘She’s a hairdresser. She’ll do it for you! You’re our mummy’s sister, aren’t you?’
I nod, not knowing what else to say. I am indeed their mummy’s sister, even though I was never much of one to be fair. I’ve never even met these girls, and I didn’t make it to Sandy’s funeral either. There were reasons, but right now, standing here in this kitchen, I feel the weight of it. The loss of it all.
The sadness of it all.
Luckily sadness can’t survive the presence of a fat black Labrador, and chaos ensues as Bear snaffles the packet of chocolate digestives from the kitchen table. Cally, Archie andboth girls chase him around the room, backing him into a corner and managing to extricate the treats from his mouth. He looks unbearably disappointed as he loses his contraband, and I have to laugh at his expression of grief. Black dog indeed.
‘I’m going to call Connie,’ my dad says, once that mini-drama is over. ‘She’s on the way to London but she’ll come back for this. In fact I’m going to call everybody… We should have a party, or at the very least a night in the pub. This is something worth celebrating, that’s for sure!’
I stare at him with horror, and he notices immediately. ‘Or maybe we could do that tomorrow night?’ he adds, his white eyebrows quirking up. He still has a rich crop of silver hair, and his blue eyes are as dazzling as ever. The eyes are pretty much the only bit of him I see in myself.
‘Would you mind?’ I ask him. ‘I’m pretty beat. Maybe I could get to know the girls a little bit, and then maybe we could have a quiet night? Would that be okay?’
