Chapter Twenty-five #2
‘Oh, you see, when I first heard you’d moved, I did wonder if you’d found out about me.’ For the first time, Molly’s confidence seemed to wobble. ‘But if you had, you would have said something when you saw me in the café.’
Flynn felt terrible, but he owed his daughter honesty – along with a whole lot more that he could hardly bear to think about yet. ‘I wish I had known. I would have wanted to find you a long time ago.’
She nodded, seeming soothed by his response. ‘Are you angry with my mum for not telling you?’
Flynn hesitated. His main emotion at that point was a shocked numbness, but how could he express that to Molly? ‘I’m not angry. I’m still coming to terms with the fact I have a daughter and a granddaughter.’
Esme was chewing her penguin’s beak. ‘She loves Penguin,’ Molly said, stroking her daughter’s dark hair.
‘Are you going to tell your nan about me?’ Flynn asked.
‘No!’ she cried, the first time he’d really seen her in a panic. So far she’d been far more at ease with the situation than him, but he reminded himself she’d had a long time to think about how she’d handle it.
‘She’ll surely have to find out eventually.’
She sighed. ‘I suppose so. I need time before I tell her too. I don’t want her having a heart attack.’
Flynn smiled. From what he remembered, Brenda was barely older than his own parents, who were fit and healthy and enjoying an active retirement. ‘I doubt that will happen.’
Molly pursed her lips. ‘Well, I don’t want her to know. Not yet. Nor Mum. I want to get to know you myself first before I hear their opinions.’
‘Do they have opinions of me?’
‘No, because they don’t know anything about you other than you ride a motorbike and worked at an old house and at the theme park. Why would they?’
Flynn felt slightly sick. He was a complete stranger to his own daughter and granddaughter. She didn’t know if he was a criminal, a total bastard or a pillar of the community.
‘I do know you’re not a serial killer,’ she said with a wry smile.
Flynn laughed. ‘Well, I’m pleased you’ve established that much.’
‘I’ve got a friend in the police. I asked her to run a check on you before I came here.’
‘Christ. Isn’t that illegal?’
‘Yeah, but my friend owes me.’
‘Won’t they find out she looked me up?’
‘No. Don’t ask how,’ Molly said with a grin. ‘You don’t think I’d just turn up here with Esme without making sure you aren’t a psycho, do you? And I watched you for a while. With the people who work for you. With your friend. The woman. I could tell you were decent.’
That’s a pretty short time to make such an assumption, thought Flynn, but didn’t say anything.
Esme battered the penguin with the hammer again, gurgling with laughter. Flynn knew how Penguin felt.
Flynn sipped his water. He had that disturbing out-of-body sensation again. He’d wake up in a moment …
Esme had dropped her toys and even Penguin lay abandoned.
She let out a cry that cut through Flynn.
She had real tears on her cheeks and, for some reason, he felt devastated.
He hadn’t held Molly at that age and now he’d never have the chance.
The pain of loss was sharp; it was physical.
How could he react so strongly to losing something that, a day ago, he’d never even known he was missing?
Molly dabbed at her daughter’s cheek with a tissue. ‘Poor baby. She’s tired out. I have to go home soon and feed her and get her to bed.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘She’s – she’s beautiful.’
‘She is,’ Molly said with pride, lifting her daughter up from the blanket. Esme immediately stopped crying and was all smiles again. ‘Do you want to hold her?’
‘Um—’
‘It’s not compulsory.’
‘I do want to hold her. Of course I do. She seems happy at the moment, though. What if I start her crying again?’
Molly smiled. ‘You won’t.’
Flynn wouldn’t have bet on it.
‘Esme,’ she said, bringing the baby closer to Flynn. ‘This is your grandad. Grandad Flynn.’
Flynn’s throat was choked with emotion. He felt a tidal wave of emotion bearing down on him.
Esme reached out her hand to touch him and her fingers rested on his cheek.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Hello, Esme.’
She tugged his hair with surprising strength and he yelped, ‘Ouch!’
‘Now, now. Don’t pull Grandad’s hair.’
‘It’s fine. It’s OK.’
She gave the baby to him, and Flynn was amazed by how heavy she felt.
Molly was stronger than she looked. Esme looked into his eyes in the frank, almost unblinking way that very small children had but that he’d always smiled at or ignored.
Now, he found he could not tear his eyes away from this child.
Molly laughed. ‘That’s her owl stare.’
Esme let out a sudden and heartfelt wail.
‘Sorry,’ Flynn said, as his eardrums throbbed.
‘You keep saying that. What are you sorry for? That I found you? That you made a mistake that night in Buttermere?’
Esme settled down to pulling his hair, which gave Flynn the chance to utter a few comic ‘ouch’es and scrunch up his face before he answered.
‘I actually meant sorry for making Esme cry, but I don’t feel I made a mistake.
I’m sorry I didn’t know about you. Sorry that your mum didn’t feel able to tell me.
Sorry for all the things I’ve missed.’ He tried not to sound bitter, because he honestly didn’t know how he felt about missing his own daughter’s entire childhood.
He’d lain awake wondering how his life would have been, trying to decide if he felt angry or cheated – it was all so new that he didn’t know what to feel.
‘I’m sorry too. That Mum didn’t want you to be part of my life. At first, when I was born, she said it was because she couldn’t track you down, but I think she could have. We both could have.’
Flynn was too choked with emotion to reply.
Esme wriggled and Molly said, ‘I really must take her home now or she will be a nightmare all the way back in the car. She’s already over-excited by all the Christmas disruption.’
‘Christmas?’
Molly took Esme from him and laughed. ‘Yeah, it’s happening in two weeks’ time. Less. I’d have thought you’d have noticed, running a Christmas Spectacular?’
‘I – of course. I get so caught up in the work aspect, I forget that it’s a real event, if you know what I mean. It must be exciting – Esme’s first Christmas.’
‘It is, though more for me and Nan. Mum’s really sad she can’t be there but can’t wait to call her. But she has been out a lot more. Playgroup Christmas party, shopping with Nan, and now you, of course. Her routine’s all over the place but I don’t mind.’
Tell me about it, thought Flynn. His routine had been blown to smithereens, along with his life.
Molly put Esme back in the buggy and said she’d send off for a DNA test kit that evening. She knew the process. It was obvious she’d given it careful thought. Flynn agreed, even though he knew what the outcome would be.
He offered to walk her to her car in the visitors’ car park but she said no, so he watched her walk across the courtyard pushing the buggy.
The castle walls were washed with white and violet, and the buzz of excited families filled the night air.
It would soon be Christmas and he had a family.
He wasn’t just responsible for himself. He wasn’t free and single and surely no one who was a grandparent could describe themselves as young, even at thirty-nine.
He watched Molly strap Esme into her buggy and tuck a blanket around her.
After Molly left, Flynn closed the door and stood in the sitting room, unable to move. Then, he sat on the sofa, put his head in hands, and wept.