‘Anyway. She said she’d pay me back,’ he continued. ‘And I’d given her the receipt for the repairs, but it’d never happened, so I thought maybe that was it.’
Silence fell between us. I looked out over the rest of the restaurant. It was late but still busy, mainly with groups of friends and couples. The music in the background was soft, a lively Mediterranean pop, and the smells coming from the kitchen were good. Rich tomato sauce and the saltiness of fresh seafood. It would have been a pleasant evening if I was in better company.
When I looked back, he was checking his phone on the table. ‘If I’m keeping you, you can go,’ I said evenly. ‘That was the only answer I wanted.’
‘I’m just having to keep an eye on it. Sandra’s sister is sitting with her tonight.’
‘Your wife. She has cancer?’ I asked, forcing a softer tone.
‘Breast cancer. It came back. She’s fighting it, but they’re not sure this time around…’ He trailed off and cleared his throat, fidgeted on his seat.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, me too. I wish I could do more for her, but the treatment is so expensive. That’s something I do miss about Britain. The wonderful NHS.’
I almost laughed. I understood what he meant but did he not realise how it came across when he phrased things like that? Hedidmiss the NHS. He hadn’t missedme. Maybe he was just being honest. Maybe his filter was broken from the suffering he was going through with his wife. I didn’t want to care about his problems but whatever he was to me, they were still human. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘Like what? Are you a doctor?’
‘No…I’m a stockbroker.’ The admission felt like it cost me something. I didn’t want to give him any pieces of me. Money I could offer. It was no more than charity. But who I really was and what I did, felt like parts of me he didn’t deserve.
‘Wow. That’s impressive. You used to want to be Robin Hood.’ He smiled.
‘Some would argue I’m the opposite of that now,’ I quipped as our food arrived. He’d ordered a lamb dish and I had gemista, the large tomatoes shiny from being roasted in the oven. I cut into one and a soft, fragrant stuffing of rice and vegetables spilled out. ‘But if there’s anything your wife needs that you can’t afford, drugs or equipment, let me know how much it is, and I’ll see if I can help.’
‘Why would you do that?’
I shrugged. Why was I doing it? ‘Because, within reason, I can. I have money. I give to charity – this is just more direct.’
‘What do you want in return?’
‘Nothing. I meant what I said the other day. I’m not interested in us getting to know each other or forging a relationship. It’s too late for that.’
He nodded, and I could almost see the relief radiating off him. ‘I wouldn’t have been a good father, if that’s any consolation. You’ve obviously been raised really well. You’ve made something of yourself. You look like you’ve got it together. You didn’t need me then and it doesn’t look like you need me now.’
I eyed him as I took another long drink of beer. I put the bottle down carefully. If this was the last time we were going to sit together and talk like this, maybe I should have my say.
‘I don’t need you now. You’re right. I was raised well. But it was hard. You’re letting yourself off the hook by saying I was better off without you. It was hard having a dad who didn’t care enough to keep me in his life. It was hard for Mum, being a single parent—’
‘It was only for a couple of years. She remarried, didn’t she?’
The blasé attitude rekindled my anger. ‘Yes. But it was two years on her own more than you did. Two years when you were young, free and single. Exploring New York and deciding what you wanted to do with your new freedom. You were both my parents but only one of you took responsibility.’ I pushed my food away. I couldn’t eat, even though it was delicious.
‘You’re right.’ His lips flattened. ‘Responsibility was never my strong suit. It took me a long time to settle down. I hurt more people than you and your mother and I have to live with it.’
‘Lorna?’ I asked. ‘You lived around here with her, didn’t you?’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘You met them?’
‘When I was looking—’ I broke off. ‘Them?’
He swallowed. ‘Maybe not then.’ He picked at his lamb with his knife and fork.
‘Trevor, who, as well as Lorna, might I have met at their apartment?’ I folded my arms on the edge of the table and leaned forward, so he was forced to look me in the eye again.
‘You…you have a sister.’
‘What?’ My voice rose over the chatter in the restaurant and the waitress looked over at us nervously. I breathed in deeply through my nose. ‘You had another child with Lorna?’
