Twelve

 

Was it normal for palms to sweat this much? Seph wiped them on her jeans for the hundredth time as the Piccadilly Line train sped through the tunnel. She rarely caught the Tube, preferring her bicycle instead. She’d made a mistake leaving it at home because now she felt claustrophobic, wedged into a packed carriage with a class of kids on a school trip and tourists with suitcases. By the time she finally got off at Covent Garden, she stood on the platform, vowing never to do it again. Her heart was racing and the heat of the train had made her legs tremble.

Stepping out of the station and into the daylight was like swapping one furnace for another. The sun beat down on Central London, and she fanned herself with her wide-brimmed hat. It was much too hot for a hat like this. Why had she brought it in the first place? Or her leather jacket? What had she been thinking? She’d planned to wear a dress to stay cool in the heat but had opted for her fail-safe of a light shirt and jeans at the last minute. She’d been so jittery getting ready that it had been a miracle she’d managed to get dressed at all.

Someone barged past her, talking loudly into their mobile. It was five minutes to three on a Wednesday afternoon but people were everywhere, waiting outside the station, walking past with shopping bags and briefcases, smoking, laughing, talking. She checked the address she was supposed to go to on her phone before turning the corner into a small side street and following it until she saw a cafe with a sandwich board standing outside on the pavement.

The leaping of her stomach upgraded itself to fully-fledged nausea. If she went inside that cafe, everything would change and things would never be the same again. She toyed with her pendant, rubbing it as if it were a magic talisman that could spring a genie who could tell her what to do. Seph glanced behind her, in the direction she’d just come from. Nico didn’t know she was here yet. She could turn around now, go home and go back to the life she’d always known. Or…

She turned to look back at the cafe and before she could think her way out of it, put one foot in front of the other. She could feel every inch of her foot spreading across the pavement in her plimsolls as she walked. She even detected the slight trembling of a tube train rattling under the ground beneath her as she came to the cafe door. The brass handle was cool under her hand as she pushed it down and stepped inside. She looked briefly across the small space before stopping dead in her tracks. She’d never seen him in the flesh - at least not that she could remember - but she’d recognise him anywhere.

The aromas of coffee and bacon surrounded Seph as she stood still, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. She slowly let go of the door handle, her eyes fixed onto the man sitting in the corner. As the door closed behind her, the faint tinkle of a bell rang out and a ball of something that felt like a strange concoction of happiness and fear and disbelief wedged itself in her throat. Seph continued to stare as he stood up.

He was taller than she’d expected, with broad shoulders. He was wearing a shirt and tie over chinos, and his hair was tied back from his face. His eyes were dark, darker even than hers. She detected nerves behind them as they scanned her face. And as the ball in her throat grew larger and larger, she realised that she looked just like him. Seph committed every inch of his face to memory, the neat, close-cut beard sprinkled with grey, his heavy eyebrows and olive skin.

‘Seph?’

She blinked and slowly nodded. Her head felt light and her throat dry. She was desperate for a glass of water or a cup of tea or something to dislodge the ball in her throat.

‘Do you want to sit?’ he asked softly, but didn’t wait for a reply.

He led her to the closest table and Seph slid into the hard chair, clutching her hat in her hands. She scrutinised his face as he sat in the chair opposite. Was it really him? It was a stupid question. Of course it was. They had the same eyes and chin, but it wasn’t just that. She recognised him on another level too, one she couldn’t describe or even begin to understand.

As soon as she’d got off the phone with him two days ago, she’d convinced herself that she’d made the wrong decision. Her stomach had churned and twisted itself into knots and her mind had turned against her. What had she been thinking? Was she insane? Didn’t she have enough on her plate without adding to it? Her mind had tormented her, reminding her that he was the same man who’d left her and her mum to fend for themselves without a backwards glance. That it would be a huge, enormous mistake to try and establish any kind of connection with him. She’d almost called back to cancel. She’d picked up the phone, her finger poised and ready to press ‘call’, but curiosity had got the better of her.

‘Do you want something to drink?’ he asked, looking at the laminated menu on the table between them. ‘A Coke, or tea?’

Seph stared at the point between his eyebrows, set into what looked like a permanent crease. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d anticipated a feeling of distance, like an automatic barrier against him but instead, he was strangely familiar. Resonance of any kind was the last thing she’d expected to feel.

Nico dug a finger into the tie around his neck and pulled it to one side, grimacing. ‘Blimey, it’s hot in here.’ He stopped and looked at her. ‘Tell you what, there’s a pub on the corner. We could have a drink outside instead, if you fancy it?’

Seph’s shoulders dropped as a bolt of nervous laughter involuntarily shot up from inside, breaking through the ball that had lodged itself in her throat since she’d laid eyes on him. She nodded through the laughter as the promise of fresh air lifted the invisible weight of nerves a little from her shoulders.

‘Yeah.’ Another trickle of giddy laughter left her mouth before she took a deep breath to steady herself. ‘That would be great.’

He grinned, revealing deep dimples on both cheeks and got up from the table. Seph ducked under his outstretched arm as he held the door open and stepped outside. The pub was only two shops down and, as promised, offered high tables outside, two of which were empty. It was standing room only, but at least they’d be out in the fresh air and away from the cloying smell of frying oil. Inside, the pub was small and stuffy and, thanks to its tiny windows and traditional timber interior, it felt horribly dark and sombre.

Nico took one look at her face and laughed. ‘Don’t worry, we’re definitely going back outside. So, what do you fancy?’ He pulled out his wallet. ‘Beer, wine, G & T? Jägerbomb?’

Seph laughed again. ‘I think I’ll stick to a glass of wine, thanks.’

‘I know this place looks like something from the dark ages, but they’ve got a pretty decent wine selection,’ Nico replied, and they looked up at the list of drinks written on the chalkboard behind the bar. ‘The Riesling’s pretty good.’

‘Perfect. Riesling’s my favourite.’

‘Same.’

Her phone beeped in her bag and she turned away for a second to unlock the screen. She sped her thumbs across the keypad, replying to Ben’s message, asking if she’d met him and if she was okay. Everything was okay. It was perfect, in fact. Soon, she’d be back out in the sun with a chilled glass of wine, ready to start getting to know her biological father. She switched the phone to silent and put it back in her bag. She wanted to spend the time with Nico without interruption.

‘So, if you’re a Riesling fan, what’s with the Coke?’ Seph asked as the barman handed them their drinks.

‘I probably should’ve said it was my favourite. I don’t really drink these days.’

Seph had drunk a little more than usual lately in order to unwind, but she rarely ever indulged in the middle of the day. Then again, today wasn’t like any other. The nerves bubbling away in her stomach as they made their way back outside and claimed a table was proof of that.

‘Cheers.’ Nico grinned, holding his glass out towards her.

She tapped her glass against his and returned his grin. ‘Cheers.’

‘It’s really nice to see you. You look…’ He laughed a little and shook his head. ‘I was going to say you look all grown up but that’s pretty obvious.’

Seph laughed as the sun beat down on her arms.

‘You look great,’ he added.

‘Thanks. So do you.’ She laughed again at the weirdness of her reply, the nerves fizzing in her stomach and popping at the back of her throat like champagne.

She put her bag on the table and laid her hat on top of it. A group of school kids wearing blue outer vests walked past in twos, holding hands. Everywhere she looked there were tourists, fanning themselves with maps or fiddling with cameras. The West End was a place she rarely ventured to these days. It was gaudy, full of neon lights and steakhouses that never seemed to have anyone in them. The glamour it had held when George was alive had long gone, but she had to admit that sitting outside of a pub with a good glass of wine made a nice change to being cooped up in her studio, smeared with paint.

She looked at Nico again and smiled nervously before taking a sip of her wine. What should they talk about first? Would it be weird to go straight in with the heavy stuff, or should they keep it light? Seph nibbled on the inside of her lip. Why hadn’t she thought to look online for inspiration? She should’ve Googled it: What should I say when I meet my dad for the very first time? As she took another sip of wine, a small delivery van drove past with its windows rolled down and music playing loudly.

‘I love this song,’ she said, automatically tapping her foot.

Nico looked at her with surprise as he took off his tie. ‘You like Depeche Mode?’

‘I love them.’

He laughed a little as he scrunched his tie up into a ball and put it on the table. ‘Get out. Depeche Mode has been my favourite band since I can remember.’

‘I’ve seen them a couple of times,’ Seph said. ‘They’re great live.’

‘I know. Well, the last time I saw them was back in eighty-six - the Black Celebration tour.’ He smiled with nostalgia. ‘I went twice. Once in London and again in Dortmund.’ He looked at Seph and shook his head, looking a little stunned. ‘I’d never have guessed you’d be into them.’

Like father, like daughter? Seph grinned as they caught each other’s eyes. She wasn’t imagining this, was she? Because it felt special. With all of the different types of music, performers and bands in the world, what were the odds that their favourite would be the same? It had to be more than just a coincidence.

Nico took a box of cigarettes from his pocket and pulled one out. ‘Smoke?’

The little nicotine monster she’d been trying to kill since France reared its ugly head and nagged at her. Past experience told her that nothing would go better with her glass of wine, but she shook her head.

‘I quit.’

‘Good for you. Wish I’d have done, when I had the chance. I’m well and truly hooked.’ He lit the tip. ‘So you said you live in Dalston? Pretty trendy place that now, isn’t it?’

Seph laughed dryly. ‘Just a bit.’

‘I remember when that place was a complete dump.’ Nico blew out a rush of smoke and shook his head. ‘I probably wouldn’t recognise it anymore.’

‘Yeah, I imagine it must’ve been really different back in your day.’ Seph grinned, feeling completely at ease with poking a little fun at him. ‘Where do you live again? You didn’t say on the phone.’

It had been a relatively short conversation, maybe because she’d been too nervous to speak or maybe because he’d been too shocked to hear her voice, and now there were so many things she wanted to know.

‘Surbiton.’

‘You live in Surrey?’ Seph asked, her voice thick with surprise.

Nico laughed a little and tapped his ash into the glass ashtray. ‘Why do you sound so surprised?’

She shrugged and shook her head. ‘I just assumed you lived in London instead of the suburbs.’

‘My love affair with London ended a few years back. I couldn’t live here anymore. Couldn’t afford it any rate, especially not after the credit crash. Not the best time to be an estate agent.’

‘I can imagine,’ Seph replied with a grimace.

‘It doesn’t make much difference in the end. My office is here, I’m here every day. I’ve just got a longer commute.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Surbiton’s not so bad. We can afford it and it’s a better place for Alexis than London.’

‘Who’s Alexis?’

‘Your sister.’

Seph stared at him as he took another long drag of his cigarette. ‘I have a sister?’

Nico nodded. ‘I mentioned her in the email, didn’t I?’

‘No.’ She shook her head, stunned.

‘I’ve got a photo of her here.’

As he reached into his pocket, Seph tugged the bottom of her shirt away from her damp back. He definitely hadn’t mentioned a sister. Had he? No, she was certain he hadn’t. She’d committed his email to memory, word by word. There was no way she could have missed something so huge.

‘I wrote so many versions of that email, I must have taken it out by mistake.’ He reached across the table, holding his wallet open. ‘There she is. That’s Alexis.’

Something about the way he said her name struck a flame of envy, deep in Seph’s belly. Had he ever said her name like that to anyone? Like she was something to be proud of? Did he ever carry a photograph of her in his wallet to show people? She looked down at the picture of a little girl and her jealousy disappeared. She’d expected someone closer to her own age, but this girl with dark hair, a high forehead and the same dimples as Nico looked like she was still in primary school.

‘She’s so young,’ Seph said.

‘She’s nine. Ten in December but going on thirty with her attitude.’ He laughed and shook his head.

Seph looked at the photo again. She’d always been just fine with being an only child. Of course it had been a little lonely now and again but for the most part, having no brothers or sisters had suited her. For one thing, her friends who did have siblings had always moaned about them being older and dismissive or younger and annoying. Seph liked not having anyone to fight with, or compete with for attention. She had two parents who’d lavished her with love, and that had been more than enough. Being an only child was just the way it was. Or had been.

‘Wow.’ Seph shook her head. ‘Does she know? About me, I mean?’

Nico scrunched his cigarette into the ashtray and shook his head a fraction. ‘Not yet. I wanted to tell her but we decided to wait until after I met you today.’

‘We?’

‘Me and Denise, my wife. We thought it better to wait, just in case.’

Seph frowned. ‘In case I didn’t show?’

He nodded, tapping a finger on his cigarette box and looked away for a second. A sudden bout of guilt hit her.  While she’d been umming and ahhing about whether or not to reply to him, he’d probably been watching his email inbox like a hawk, waiting for something to come back.

‘I have to admit I was surprised when you called,’ he said.

Seph twiddled the stem of her glass between her thumb and index finger. ‘Well, you surprised me with your email, so I guess that puts us both in the same boat.’

He nodded back with a small smile. ‘Fair point.’ He ran a hand over his beard. ‘So, how do we do this?’

‘I have no idea.’

It was amazing. They had so much to catch up on, so much to talk about, but she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to start getting to the crux of things. Until now, it had felt like they were old friends catching up, and she didn’t want to ruin that. Instead of launching straight into accusations, she decided to start light.

‘How did you find me?’

Nico leaned his elbows on the table. ‘I’ve always tried to keep track of you. And I’ve been following your work, too. You’re one hell of an artist.’

Seph blushed and looked down into her glass. ‘Thanks.’

‘I’m hopeless when it comes to art and I don’t really understand what it is exactly that you paint but, I like it.’

She laughed. ‘That’s the thing with abstract art, it’s completely open to interpretation.’

‘Well, it’s really good.’

‘Thanks.’ She smiled again and fell silent for a few seconds before looking at him with serious eyes. ‘Why get in touch now? Why not five, ten, fifteen years ago?’

‘That’s a complicated question, with a complicated answer.’ He looked away briefly. ‘The honest answer is, I don’t really know. I don’t know what was different or what changed. But I’ve wanted to meet you for a long, long time.’

He reached across the table and put a hand on top of hers. The skin on his fingers felt rough, as if he’d worked outside every day for most his life. The hands of a man who knew what hard work was, as her nana would have said. Had they always been like that? It was strange to think that somewhere on a molecular level, her skin already held the memory of his touch from a time she couldn’t remember.

‘Look, Seph. I’m really, really glad you came today. And I want you to know that I’m sorry for not being there.’ He looked directly at her and a little of his black-grey hair fell into his eyes. ‘I’m sorry for leaving you. Your mum too, but mainly you. It was a shitty thing to do, and I’m sorry.’

Unexpected tears sprung in Seph’s eyes and she had to blink furiously to hold them back.

‘It was a really rough time and I was in a bad place,’ he continued. ‘Part of me will always regret leaving because I’ve missed out on so much. But the other part knows it was the right thing to do.’

He paused, as if he were waiting for her to ask him to elaborate but for the first time since finding out about him, Seph pushed the question away. It was too much. This, being here with him on a perfect summer’s day, chatting easily and spending time together - it was so much more than she’d expected. She didn’t want to get into the heavy stuff right now and despite his pause, she was certain he didn’t want to ruin the moment either.

‘I know you’ve got a stepdad,’ Nico continued, ‘and I’d never want to get in the way, but maybe we could do this again sometime? Take some time to get to know each other a bit more?’

His brown eyes, so much like hers, searched her face.

Seph nodded, slowly at first. ‘Yeah, okay. I’d like that.’

She didn’t owe Nico anything but today had gone so much better than she could ever have hoped for. Maybe Ben had been right. Maybe she’d end up like that small percentage of people she’d read about on those forums who’d ended up happy, with an additional dad in their lives.

Seph picked up her glass and smiled. It was a long way to go, but it wasn’t as if they had to rush. They had twenty-something years’ worth of their lives to catch up on.