Page 82 of Summer in Greece

‘It’s all in the past, Dad, but thanks. I really appreciate you telling me these things. I was pretty awful to you too. God, the things I said . . .’

‘The difference is, you were a kid. I should have pulled myself together and known how to behave. You really loved him, didn’t you, that David fella?’

‘I did, with all my heart. What a terrible tragedy.’

‘And DJ, he’s my only grandson, and for my punishment, I missed every moment of him growing up. I used to imagine building model aeroplanes with him, teaching ’im stuff about me pigeons. I’ve sat up ’ere all these lonely years thinking about him while you was in college or at work, telling myself it was my own fault.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘I can’t believe he’s actually coming here to meet me.’ He hiccupped, then sniffed. After a moment with his thoughts, he said, ‘Yer mum would have loved him, too. It’s odd, but I’ve felt very close to her lately.’ He looked up. ‘Can’t remember what I did two minutes ago, these days, but my early days with your mum have come back with such clarity, like yesterday. Egh, Shelly love, we had some grand times I can tell you.’

Shelly couldn’t meet his eyes. She got onto her knees on the candlewick and had a look at what had come out of the pillow-bag.

‘For goodness’ sake, Dad, look, Gran Gertie’s uniform! How old must this stuff be . . . more than a hundred years?’

‘Open the other cupboard door on the tallboy, Shelly.’

She did, and there, taped inside was an old 1997 calendar from the pigeon club with all the race dates ringed. ‘See if you can get that calendar off without too much damage, will yer. It’s got me first big race win on it.’

She managed to peel the corner tapes off and remove the calendar. Behind it, taped to the tallboy, was an original VAD poster with three volunteers in their uniforms. ‘Look at that! Where did you get it, Dad?’

‘It was in with Gertie’s stuff. I wanted to hold on to it, for a keepsake. She was good to me, was our Gertie. Mothers-in-law can be tricky creatures, and though technically she wasn’t mine, I respected her like she was.’ He shrugged. ‘So I wanted a souvenir when she passed in ’98. Yer mum said I could have the poster.’

‘You old softy!’ She grinned at him affectionately.

*

As lunchtime neared the following weekend, Shelly showered and changed into a new pair of jeans and a white shirt. She applied a little make-up and sprayed her hair with something the hairdresser convinced her was essential for a healthy shine.

Her reflection in the mirror stared back anxiously. She would show DJ around the house . . . after all, one day it would be his. She glanced around the room and saw dust everywhere. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Realising she had an hour, she lunged into the old wire supermarket basket at the bottom of the broom cupboard and grabbed one of the cotton rags. With the remnants of a can of Mr Sheen, which she shook obscenely, she raced around the house attacking every flat surface. The phone rang. She balanced the can and rag on the back of the sofa and picked up.

‘Hi, erm, it’s me, DJ . . .’ There was a pause. ‘I’ll be a little late, sorry, bad traffic. One thirty, will that be all right?’

‘Of course it will. I hope you’re hungry.’

‘Starving student, remember?’ They both laughed rather self-consciously. ‘See you later.’

She stood there, smiling, her heart full of joy. Her own child, oh, it seemed impossible after all this time. She placed her hand on her stomach and recalled the weight of him in her belly. So much time had passed, it seemed impossible that this was the same little being.

‘All right? How you coping?’ Dad asked. ‘Do you want me to set the table?’

‘To be honest, I’m madly, stupidly, nervous right now. Look at those windows, I’ll just give them a bit of a spray and wipe.’

‘Calm down. Everything will be fine. He won’t care if the glass is clean or not. He just wants assuring that we love him. So put some beers in the fridge and try to imagine how nervous he is. At least you’re on home ground, Shelly love.’

‘You’re right . . . of course you’re right, you always are. How do you do it?’

Gordon frowned. ‘Truth is, I’m finding this hard too. Especially as it was me that made it clear he wasn’t wanted.’

‘Aw, come here, you old softy. What you did was hard, but it was in everyone’s interest. We all know that.’ She gave him a bear hug.

Ridiculous as it was, Shelly needed her father’s support. If he hadn’t been there, she would have gone to pieces and may not have responded to DJ’s letter in the first place. She’d have fretted and pined, but not had the guts to face him. How could a woman give her own baby away? Seventeen or not, the thought was awful. Something she never got over, and now of course, she suspected her child never got over it either.

The doorbell rang. Her heart banged. ‘I feel sick,’ she muttered.

‘Nonsense, off you go, you’re his mum, don’t forget,’ Gordon said. ‘Have a moment in private, perhaps show him the garden first. Don’t forget, he’s nervous too.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’ Shelly was already on the brink of tears.

CHAPTER 34

GERTIE