Page 66 of The Bookshop By the Loch

He blew out some stunned air. “What is there to say?”

I slapped the book counter decisively. “Right. Let’s get some air. We’ll take a walk down by the loch.”

“But what about this place?”

I made a dismissive snort. “We won’t be out for too long. What time is one of your staff members coming in today?”

“Octavia is on shift from 10am. I’ll text her and tell her we’re popping out for a few minutes. She can keep an eye on everything.”

I started round the counter. “Chloe will be in around then too. I’ll drop her a text and say the same thing. Now come on. We can’t talk in here. Someone could come in.”

“Yes. Much-needed customers.”

I ignored him and retrieved my bag. “Closing for half an hour this morning won’t break the bank.”

The loch was awash with sun that had banished the mist. A couple of small anglers’ boats danced on the water, their masts piercing the sky like fine white needles. A couple of birds crested on the faint breeze.

I drew to a stop above the steps that led down to the shoreline. “So, this Cormac guy is definitely your biological father?”

Tobias appreciated the electric-blue skyline. He gave the sharpest nod of his head.

“How did you find out?”

“My mother told me last night.”

I turned this over in my mind. “Jesus. Right.” I was almost as stunned as Tobias was. “I’m so sorry, Tobias. It must’ve been an awful shock.” I examined the whispering water lapping at the shore. “But how did the subject come up? Did you have your suspicions for a while then, that your late father might not be your biological father?”

Tobias squinted against the lemon sun. “No. I had no inclination whatsoever.”

“So, what happened?”

He was silent for a few seconds. “After dropping you home last night, I decided to drive to Mum’s. I wanted to take a look at a couple of her old family photo albums.” Tobias then went onto say that he’d been commissioned to paint the portrait of a late military captain by his family. “I remembered I’d seen a couple of photographs of my late great-grandfather, Harold – he’d also been a captain in the army during World War One – and I thought that might help me channel the First World War time period and give me some extra inspiration.”

Tobias’s eyes looked pensive. “I know where Mum keeps her albums, so I started taking a look while she insisted on making me some dinner.” He hesitated then recounted taking out the boxes from the bottom of her bedroom wardrobe. “It was while I was rooting around, that I accidentally knocked over a couple of her shoe boxes and that’s when I found a small photo album wedged right at the back.”

“And what was in this one?”

Tobias narrowed his eyes against the sun. “I thought it might be more family photographs of me, Mum, my late dad, Trevor, Naomi and Tamsin… the usual suspects.”

I felt the sun sweep over and down my back, warming it through my summer shirt. “But it wasn’t?”

Tobias looked rueful. “Well, yes it was but there were a few letters stashed in there as well.”

Tobias shook his head, as though he wanted to dislodge the images. “The year was 1985, so a year before I was born, and the letters stuffed in there were from my aunt Naomi to her sister Caroline – my mum.” Tobias admitted he didn’t have time to read them all. “But from what I did read and from what my late aunt was saying, she was trying to comfort my mum, as she’d just found out that Bernard, my dad, wasn’t able to give her a baby.”

Tobias looked at me. “Then a couple more letters, which were more replies from my aunt to my mum, were going on about how much dad loved her and that he felt guilty about not being able to give her a family.” Tobias looked bewildered. “It sounds like my parents had both been struggling to come to terms with not being able to have a child.” He swallowed. “Then they mentioned some guy called Cormac a few times, saying he would’ve been delighted at the prospect of becoming a dad.”

He pinned all his attention on me. “As soon as I read that, it was like my world imploded. This Cormac must be my father. Mum must’ve had an affair with him and I was the result.”

Tobias rubbed at his chin, peppered with dark stubble. “So, I grabbed the letters and the album and went straight back downstairs. You should’ve seen my mum’s face when she saw me holding them. She looked like her whole world had collapsed around her.”

My chest deflated for him. “What did she say?”

Tobias’s mouth drew into a solemn line. “She became defensive at first, asking me what I was doing and saying that I’d no right to be searching around her possessions. She looked shellshocked. So small and quiet.”

A couple of prams spun past us as we stood there, lost in our own conversation, their wheels glittering in the sunshine, and the young mums pushing them savouring ice creams as they chatted.

I drank in Tobias and urged him to continue. “And then?”