The Butterfly Storm (33 page)

‘I wasn’t exactly successful. I was mad with you and Grandma, with him and his bloody daughter
and grandchild for being there and stopping me from speaking to him. But I’m glad we’re doing this
now. It’s long overdue.’

We stop talking as I turn on to the long winding road that leads to Elliot’s house. Mum switches
the radio off. My fingers clench the steering wheel. A minute later and I pull up on the grass verge
beneath the tree Candy and I parked under all those years before. I switch off the ignition and the
engine stills. It’s peaceful here with only the occasional car shooting past to disturb the chatter of
birds.

‘He’s lived in this same house for thirty-five years,’ Mum says absently. ‘He never liked
change.’

‘He was taking a risk trusting you not to come knocking.’

‘If I’d wanted to I’d have found him even if they’d moved.’

‘How long should we leave it?’ I ask, looking towards the closed front door.

‘As long as it takes.’ There are two cars in the drive but no sign of anyone in the house. They could
be outside. I imagine a huge back garden with breathtaking views. Mum is quiet next to
me, her fingers drumming on her leg cast. I’m not even sure if I really want to turn an
impression of my father into reality. The first time it had been anger that had driven me to
see him, mixed with intrigue and a desire to meet my father. It was uncertainty and the
feeling of being emotionally out of my depth that had driven me away. No, it was the fear
of not being wanted that had scared me off. Candy didn’t understand how I could leave
without actually meeting him. What I don’t understand is how he could have carried on with
his life without wanting to meet me. He looked so happy and relaxed with his daughter
and grandchild. He’s been described as a family man. He doesn’t know the meaning of the
word.

Mum’s hand suddenly grips mine. I look up as Elliot closes the front door behind him. He’s alone.
He looks along the road and his eyes rest on Mum. He falters, smiling briefly before glancing
back to the house. I start the engine and he gets into a silver Mercedes and backs out of
the drive and on to the road. He slows as he passes us. My father looks at me for the first
time.

We follow him back towards the open roads of the Peak District. He’s not hanging about and he keeps
glancing in his rear-view mirror. I slide the gear stick into fifth. Mum’s hands are interlinked on her lap
and her knuckles tensed white.

‘Have you any idea where we’re going?’ I ask.

Mum shrugs. ‘Somewhere he won’t be spotted with us I presume.’

The beauty of our surroundings is lost on me as I concentrate on following Elliot. I catch glimpses of
moorland stretching to the horizon, patchworked by sun and shadows from the high white clouds. After
fifteen minutes he indicates and pulls into a lay-by hidden from the road by trees. I pull up
behind him and switch off the engine. No one moves. A secret rendezvous in the middle of
nowhere feels shifty, like I’m doing a dirty deal rather than meeting my father for the first
time.

‘Help me get out,’ Mum says.

I open my door and the wind nearly knocks me off my feet. Elliot’s not getting out because he’s on
his mobile. I wonder if he’s making excuses to his wife. I pull the crutches off the back seat and help
Mum out of the car and on to her feet.

‘Bloody uncivilised,’ she says. The wind loosens strands of hair from her ponytail. The colour in her
cheeks has returned after her stay in hospital and her smooth and flawless skin defies her
age.

A car door slams. I turn and Elliot’s walking towards us. His hands are shoved in his jeans pocket
and a dark grey jumper keeps out the wind. It looks as if his wife buys his clothes from M&S. He sees
Mum’s crutches and falters. ‘What happened?’

‘I was in an accident.’

‘Anna never said.’

‘I never told her.’

I’m sidelined. His attention is solely focused on her. I’m the stranger; I’m the reason they didn’t
remain together. I’m the result of an illicit love affair. His eyes are green – I was right about that. I
must remind Mum of him every day because it’s blatant that I’m his daughter. We have the same
shaped faces, the same red hair, his is thinning on top and flecked with grey but it’s identical
in colour. Up close he’s tall and despite now being in his late sixties, he has an athletic
build.

‘I’m Sophie.’

He looks at me. I’m not sure what I expected this moment to feel like. His handshake is warm and
firm yet we keep the distance of strangers.

‘Well,’ Mum says. ‘This is about as comfortable as I imagined it would be.’

Elliot looks between us both. ‘I’m sorry. You took me by surprise, Leila. It’s a shock seeing
you… both.’ He looks back at me. ‘I’ve wanted to meet you since you were born.’

Mum’s not buying it. Her cheeks flush red and I can sense her anger building.

‘I’ve only known about you for eight years,’ I say. ‘I came up here when I was twenty-one,
determined to meet you.’

‘I know. Anna told me. I had no idea. She couldn’t understand why you came all that way to meet
me and then didn’t.’

‘You were with your family and I felt like a trespasser or a stalker or both.’

‘Are you mad we came?’ Mum asks him.

He shakes his head. ‘God, no. I’d given up hope that you’d ever reply to my letters. I never expected
you to come and visit.’

‘Visit?’ Mum laughs. ‘That sounds like we were invited, and welcome.’

‘You are,’ he says quietly.

‘Oh right, that’s why we’re standing out in the cold, miles from anywhere or anyone. You’re
ashamed. You were ashamed even when we were together. And you’re sure as hell ashamed that Sophie
looks like your daughter. That’s why you can’t let your family meet us. Because they’d
know.’

I wish I didn’t have to witness this. Mum has a history with him. I don’t. He can barely look at
Mum let alone me.

‘So why did you come, then?’ he asks.

‘To tell you I don’t ever want you contacting me again. No letters, no phone calls. My mother
should never have given you my new address, but she’ll seemingly do anything for you. I’ve stayed
out of your life like you and my bloody family asked; I lied to Sophie for years about you
because I thought that was the right thing to do. I was wrong. It’s up to you and Sophie
what happens to your relationship but you leave me out of it. We haven’t been together or
had anything to do with each other for nearly thirty years and that’s the way it’s going to
stay.’

She struggles back to the car and leaves me standing alone with Elliot. He suddenly looks older,
particularly now the earlier smile has been wiped from his face.

‘For being pissed at you for thirty years, I think she controlled herself quite well.’

‘Let’s take a walk.’

We don’t go far. Moorland stretches away from the lay-by, the grasses and plants buffeted by the
wind. We walk far enough to put physical distance between the cars and us but we’re still close enough
for Mum to see us.

‘This isn’t how I imagined I’d meet you,’ he says.

‘You’ve had twenty-nine years. Surely there’s been enough time for you to find the opportunity for
us to meet?’

‘It was too complicated.’

‘You mean too risky.’

‘Leila brought you to your grandparents once. You were five. I was desperate to meet
you but Anna didn’t think it was a good idea. My wife and our children would have come
too. Anna stopped us from coming because it would have been obvious that you were my
daughter.’

‘I still am,’ I say.

He shoves his hands back in his jeans pockets and stares out at the wild expanse of moorland in
front of us.

‘I’ve messed up,’ he says after a while. ‘I shouldn’t have had an affair with Leila. She may have
been the one to make advances but I didn’t stop her. She’s a beautiful, incredible woman
and I was greedy. I love my wife very much, we have three children together and I didn’t
make a mistake in sticking by them. I’m only sorry that you had to grow up without a
family.’

My fists clench. ‘I did grow up with a family. Mum is my family. It certainly wasn’t a conventional
childhood but I wouldn’t change it. Not for you anyway.’

He can’t even look me straight in the face. ‘I’d have had regrets whatever my decision
was.’

‘I would never choose to give up my child, however hard the situation might be.’ I hadn’t intended
to come all this way just to argue with him but I can’t help myself. I thought on meeting him I would
recognise myself in him, understand what Mum saw in him or at least be comforted by his reasons for
not being a part of my life.

‘I had three other children to think about.’ His voice rises, empty words carried by the
wind.

‘It must have been hard for you, lying to your family all these years.’

‘I’m protecting them.’

‘You’re protecting yourself.’

He turns to me and raises his hands in mock helplessness. ‘Fine. Think what you want. I’ve tried
many times over the years to contact Leila. I sent her letters addressed to you but I know you never
received them. I wanted to know how you were, what you were doing.’

‘My grandmother could have told you that.’

‘Leila barely tells Anna anything.’

‘I don’t blame her,’ I say. ‘What gets me is the fact you told Mum to never contact you again and
you’re the one sending letters and interfering with her life years later.’

He becomes very quiet and his eyes shift away from me and back to the view. ‘I still love her. I
always have done.’

‘You need to stay out of her life. For her sake. You made that decision twenty-nine years ago, now
honour it.’

This is my father. The man I’ve wanted to meet since Mum inadvertently told me about him that
night in Hazel Road. I’ve wanted to know who he is for eight years but I realise I know enough. How
can I ever be a part of his life when he’s ashamed of me? I’m his dirty secret. His wife can’t ever know
about me, which means his children, my half-brother and half-sisters won’t ever know either. I don’t
want to be a part of those lies.

‘I was always sorry that Leila felt she had to move when she was pregnant with you,’ he says. He’s
calmer now, trying to draw me back into a conversation rather than an argument. ‘She
was a true northern girl and I never thought she’d cope moving to a strange city with a
baby.’

‘She coped just fine.’

‘I always thought she’d come back up North.’

‘There’s nothing for her up here.’

He points to the landscape in front of us. ‘There’s this.’

‘She’s got a version of this where she lives now. And the sea. It’s one of the most beautiful places
I’ve been to.’

‘Better than Greece?’

I look at him sharply. ‘You do know stuff.’

‘I know your name, I know your date of birth, I know you did a degree in Illustration and got a
First and I know you moved to Greece to be with your boyfriend. That’s all I know about you, what
Leila’s written in occasional Christmas cards to Anna.’

‘That’s more than I know about you.’

‘We can change that.’

‘How? How can we possibly put things right? Are you going to introduce me to your children? Or
will it just be a case of us meeting somewhere neutral where there’s no chance of anyone catching us.
Because I don’t want to be a part of your and my bloody grandparents’ lies.’ I start to walk back
towards the car.

‘Sophie, please.’

I falter and turn back to him. ‘The person who really is the victim in all of this is Mum.
She’s put her life on hold for you; she’s never been able to move on. And I thought it was
her fault. I’ve treated her like shit and she hasn’t deserved it. She took the blame just for
protecting you and we’ve spent the last eight years barely talking to each other. Wasted bloody
time.’

‘So that’s it.’

‘You’ve got your family and I’ve got mine.’ I walk towards the car and don’t dare to look back. I’m
shivering or shaking, I can’t tell which. It feels like the longest walk of my life. I battle with
the car door in the wind and shut it with a bang. Mum’s eyes are puffy and red. She’s
got her elbow resting on the ledge of the door and her hand against her cheek. Elliot’s
still standing outside being pummelled by the wind. He walks slowly back to his car and
glances at us before getting in. He doesn’t drive off straight away and I begin to think he’s
not going to. Mum tenses. But his hesitation is momentary and with a quick look over his
shoulder he pulls out from where he’s parked and drives towards the main road. We watch him
until his taillights disappear behind trees. I don’t know whether to cry or breathe a sigh of
relief.

‘How did you leave it?’ she asks.

‘I left it. He gave me a load of bullshit about family. He’s not family. I don’t even consider Grandma
and Grandad to be family – when do I ever see or speak to them? Calling them my grandparents
doesn’t mean anything. Takis and Despina, now they treat me as part of the family…’ It’s my turn to go
quiet.

‘He didn’t live up to your expectations then?’ Mum says.

‘I don’t know what my expectations were,’ I say. ‘But no, he’s not the man I imagined to be my
father for twenty-one years. And even seeing him with his family, after you told me the truth, I at least
hoped we could have some kind of relationship. I was wrong. All I saw was a man scared of his wife
finding out about a twenty-nine-year-old love child and an affair he wishes he was able to continue. I
have no respect for him.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye.

‘Don’t be.’ I say. ‘This is closure for both of us.’

Once we’ve put enough distance between Elliot and us, we stop off at a pub on the Sheffield side of the
Peak District. It’s a pub Mum remembers going to on Sunday afternoons when she was a child. It’s an
old country inn, set in a secluded garden that backs on to a wood. We find a free table next to a
window so we can look out on the garden. I get Mum settled and order two pints of lemonade at the
bar.