30 Days in June by Chris Westlake

Author:Chris Westlake [Westlake, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781712581353
Published: 2019-12-25T22:00:00+00:00

******

Maybe he isn't in?

I'm hit by a sudden surge of panic. I haven't even considered that he might possibly not be in. I just assumed he would be, you know, because he is old and all that, and therefore his life is much simpler and less fulfilling; but of course, he has a life, too, just like me, just like you. What am I going to do now? Here? I realise that there are still things I want to do, places I want to go to, that it wouldn't be a wasted trip, that I could still make the most of it, but it would feel like I was going through the motions, doing everything but the one thing I absolutely want to do...

The front door of this quaint house with a pretty garden front and back and a view from the bedroom of the Bristol Channel, suddenly pushes open. The door seems reluctant, like it is fighting against some fantastic wind, like Storm Hector has got back on his feet and come back for some more. But Hector loses the fight, and the front door pushes open.

We stand just feet apart from each other, the first time in years. I suddenly feel tall. A giant. Our roles have reversed. He can't quite see me. He knows I am there. He shelters his eyes from the sun with the back of his hand, lowers his head and then his glasses slide down his nose, allowing him to look over the top of them. He squints. The process takes time - time I wish would just vanish. It makes everything even more awkward than it already is, and I find myself glancing around at the garden, marvelling at how green and luscious the lawn looks, how vibrant the red roses are.

"Son."

I'm not sure how to react. It is almost like a question. He knows it is me, of course he does; he just can't quite believe it. I don't know if he is happy or if he is angry. He has a right to be both, and more. I don't want there to be this distance between us, even if now it is only a few yards. The crinkles in the face suggest pain. That is the last thing I want. Maybe I should just turn around and jump on the first train back to Paddington? I detest the idea of putting him through any more pain. But I stand still, like a wax model, lifelike but unable to move, to function.

"Son," he repeats. You could slot pennies in the dimples in his cheeks. He opens out his arms. His bones feel delicate and brittle. He smells of soap and powder. Yet his grip, as he clings to my body, is amazingly strong.

Eventually, he pulls away. He looks up at me, takes me all in. "I cannot believe it," he says. "This truly is a wonderful day. I got out of bed this morning and something felt different. I had no idea what it was, because I wasn't planning to do anything different from normal.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.