Page 76 of Summer in Greece

‘Sounds like an amazing story. I don’t know anything about him. On my birth certificate it says, father unknown.’

‘That was my choice. I wanted to keep you. I wanted you to have my name. Of course, that was impossible. I had no support. My father was having a breakdown after my mother’s death. Then his sixteen-year-old daughter tells him she’s pregnant. Can you imagine? Anyway, despite my objections, he insisted you would be better off growing up with a family desperate for a child. One that could afford all the things that would give you a good life.’ Shelly sighed and sat back. ‘It was a difficult time. Did you have a good childhood?’

‘I did. My parents had a daughter, my sister April, quite unexpectedly when I was eight. Six months later, we emigrated to Australia. I came back to study at Cambridge and as I was here, I thought I’d try and find you.’

‘Cambridge! Goodness. What are you reading?’

‘Marine biology.’ He stared at Shelly. ‘What’s wrong, you look startled?’

Shelly struggled. She needed more time with her son before she told him about his father. But her feelings were bubbling to the surface, she had no choice.

‘Your father would have wanted that. He was a recreational diver when I met him, but he planned to go on to greater things.’

‘Please, tell me about him. Where is he now?’

She glanced around the café. Another couple had come in and were drinking coffee, and three giggling girls were at the counter. Shelly smiled sadly. ‘Look, it seems impossible now, but I was about their age when I fell in love with your father.’ She nodded at the laughing teenagers. ‘We went on holiday together. Me, your dad, and his friend Simon.’ She paused and took a deep breath. ‘There was a diving accident . . . I didn’t even know I was pregnant with you at that point.’ Shelly had to stop and calm herself, as she always did when this subject arose. ‘Sorry, but do you think we could save that for our next meeting? This is such a huge occasion for me. I don’t want to rush it, or let it overwhelm me.’ She tried to smile, but a tic caught the corner of her mouth so she covered it with her hand. He nodded but stared gloomily at the table. Shelly continued. ‘Just let me tell you this, DJ. If things had been different, your father would have loved you like no other. He was the sweetest, kindest man imaginable and, oh, how I loved him.’

*

By the time Shelly got home, it was almost eight o’clock.

‘I’m sorry to be so late, Dad. I’ve had the most amazing experience.’

‘What have you done to your hair?’

‘Oh – I’d forgotten – had a haircut. Eve talked me into it. She’s trying to glam me up before I return to Greece. It’s so expensive, though! She doesn’t realise I have commitments.’

‘You have commitments?’

Shelly turned away quickly. Had he really forgotten? He seemed to be forgetting so much lately. ‘Well, you know, the business and everything. Anyway, enough of that. How’s your day been?’

‘Good. Bill’s daughter ran him over this afternoon and we’ve been discussing race strategy. We’ve eaten; fish pie and baked beans. Shall I ding a portion for you?’

Shelly laughed. ‘Honestly, I’ll bet it’s delicious, but I’ve got so much to tell you, Dad, I’d rather do it over a bottle of wine as you’ve eaten already.’

‘You’d better open a packet of crisps then, or you’ll be hungover tomorrow. So why are you late, Shelly love. Is everything all right?’

She stared at him, trying to decide, and then she knew, it was time for the secrets to end. ‘Sit down a minute, Dad. I’ve got something to tell you. But first, we’re having a drink, can I get you a beer?’

‘That’ll do nicely. I hope it’s not bad news.’ He pulled out a chair.

‘No, it’s the most wonderful news. But please don’t be hard on me. It’s been a difficult day, a difficult month, to tell the truth, and I can’t describe how relieved I am now that it’s over.’

Her father looked horrified. ‘Have I missed something? Just tell me it’s got nothing to do with your health?’

‘No,’ she said again, patting the back of his hand. ‘In fact, I’ve never been better.’ She passed him a beer, sat opposite him and poured herself a glass of wine. ‘You remember what happened just after Mum died, Dad?’

He stared at her, clearly not wanting to bring up the past. ‘’Ere, Shelly, let’s not go over all that. What’s past is past.’

‘No, Dad, I need to say it. A year after Mum died, I had a baby.’ Her father’s face stiffened. ‘A little boy, DJ, David John. He was David’s son and I gave him up for adoption.’ Shelly nodded. ‘His father, David, was my first boyfriend. My only real boyfriend and I loved him very much. DJ was our baby. A beautiful, blue-eyed baby that I have never stopped loving. But David never saw our child, did he? DJ was born after the accident, remember.’

Gordon stood and went over to the kitchen cupboard, pushed the sugar and flour aside and pulled out an old bottle of whisky. ‘I need a proper drink,’ he said. He poured a good measure, took it over to the window. Standing with his back to the room, he stared out at the dusk.

‘I need to go over it, Dad. I know it’s difficult, but will you please listen? It’s important to me, and I’m not sure exactly how much you remember.

‘It was the week before school went back from the holidays. There was nothing much to do, I had good exam results and you agreed that I should go back to school and take my A levels, then go to university and train to be a vet. I was passionate about it. My boyfriend, David, and his friends, Simon and Roger, were going scuba diving to Paros in Greece for a week. Roger came down with shingles . . . or mumps, I can’t remember. Anyway, he couldn’t go. He said if I paid to change the name on the ticket, I could have it.’ She looked over at her father. ‘I told you there was a trip to Greece for the sixth formers and you said I could I go.’

She closed her eyes and recalled how horrible he’d been. He’d said her mother had just died and all she cared about was having a good time. He’d said she was a disgrace to her mother’s memory. She’d cried herself to sleep every night with no notion of how badly her father was hurting, or how badly he needed a pair of arms around him, especially from his sixteen-year-old daughter.