The trip was once again uneventful, almost routine, although Allie and Marcus were unaware of what was driving it; I’d had a whispered conversation with Lizzie about it and she confessed she too had developed the certainty that time was getting short; something was nagging her about dad, something was wrong, or was going to happen, but the last time she’d spoken to mum and dad, they’d both been fine, dad was roaming around with his old friends, mum was working, everything seemed normal. If not for that same nagging unease I was also feeling I would have dismissed it all out of hand, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming, and we needed to go to dad, and soon.
Both the parents were waiting at the airport this time, eager to fawn over their grandchild, mum a ball of smiling, crying, motherly concern and grandmotherly pride, and dad proudly holding his new grandson while Lena and Lizzie hugged him, then pictures of all the kids together with mum and dad, Allie holding David like he was a precious Ming vase while beaming at the camera.
Dad had the driver of the minibus take the longer route back to Kolossi so as not to jumble the baby around too much, mum hovering over David in his baby-carrier like she never meant to let go while Lena cuddled up against me. When we finally arrived back at the house, Marcus helped me with the luggage while Lena and Lizzie sat with dad, arms around him as they bantered, but the humour in their conversation wasn’t reflected in their eyes; they both looked worried, and yet there seemed to be no cause for concern; Dad was looking far fitter than at any time over the last few years, now that I cast my mind back; he’d put some weight back on, and seemed to be using his inhaler much less frequently. His chest certainly wasn’t wheezing so distressingly any more, although it hadn’t stopped; he had COPD, and it wasn’t going away, perhaps the hot dry air was doing what his doctors had hoped for and slowing the advance, giving him more time with mum, with us, the only thing he’d ever really wanted.
I got to take that picture I wanted, dad holding David, looking fit, tanned and healthy, his face wreathed in smiles as he held his grandson (and great-grandson!) proudly, an image I have burned into my mind and memory forever.
Dinner that night was at a local taverna, Lena raring to taste her favourites again; Souvlaki, Moussaka, and Keftedakia, with Baklava to follow, food she’d discovered on Greek holidays with her friends during her university days. She ordered for all of us, and we sat down together to eat as a family, four generations at one table. We stayed until late, laughing and enjoying our time with dad and mum, but still that nagging unease lurked in the back of my mind, and I could tell Lena was sometimes forcing herself to laugh and appear to be enjoying herself; she too was slowly succumbing to that feeling of brooding unease, feeling the growing vacuum as we waited for the first sign that something was imminent.
As we made our way back to the house, Allie roamed ahead to wait for us, while mum walked ahead of us with Lizzie and Lena, mum carrying David and Marcus holding hands with Lena as he gazed adoringly at her. All of them were apparently engrossed with the baby, but Lena kept giving backward glances, her expression worried, as I walked alongside dad, both of us slouching along with our hands in our pockets, something he’d given me endless grief about when I was younger.
“Stand up straighter, Darryl and get your hands out of your pockets!” he’d order me, “And for goodness sake, stop shambling, walk properly!”
I smiled at the memory, and to see him doing the thing he’d ticked me off about so many, many times.
We chatted about nothing much, just small talk, about the weather in England, how work was progressing, plans for the summer, space fillers, something to stop the silences become brooding; dad was well aware that something was making me edgy; he’d given me several shrewd, questioning glances during dinner, but had said nothing, other than to glance warningly at mum, reminding me not to blurt out whatever was troubling me in front of her. Once inside, while mum, Lena and Lizzie bustled around, dad motioned for me to follow him out onto the rear patio, and asked me to take a seat on one of the sun loungers. He joined me on the other, and we chatted some more, more small talk, until at last he sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring up into the star-speckled sky.
“OK Son, spit it out; what’s going on? You, Lena, Lizzie, you’re all on tenterhooks, you’ve been distracted all evening, Lena sounds like a bad laugh track on an old TV show, what’s going on?”
I looked away, a huge lump in my throat, and dad at least had the grace to not press me until I was ready to speak. Finally he cleared his throat, something he always did before he spoke.
“Alright, Son, get it off your chest; I knew something was wrong from the moment I first saw you; is it something with you and Lena?”
I turned to stare at him.
“God, no! I love her more than ever, she’s everything to me! I promise you, there’s nothing wrong between Lena and me!”
Dad pursed his lips.
“Then what is it, son?” he murmured, and waited while I cast about for a way to explain what I was feeling.
“Dad, I know this is going to sound weird, morbid, even, but I keep getting the feeling that something bad’s going to happen; Lena can feel it too, that’s why we came out here post-haste; even Lizzie feels it, and we can’t shake it; I’ve got a bad feeling, dad, and I wanted to be near you; I can’t explain it any other way!”
Dad smiled slightly and leaned back in his chair again, once more looking up at the stars. When he eventually spoke, his voice was even, measured, the voice of a man at peace with himself.
“Son, you’re a doctor, you know what’s happening to me, you know what’s going to happen to me; if it happens sooner rather than later, it doesn’t matter, it was always on the cards, and there’s nothing anyone could have done. And that’s okay, really. My only worry in all of this was what was going to happen with you and Lena, whether you’d both ever find that one person, the right one, like I did with your mother. Well you did, and I’m happy for you both, pleased and happy; you obviously love each other deeply, you always have, it just took a while to work itself out, and for me to accept that you would be together one day. You have a lovely baby son, and you’ll have more, and if I’m not here to share in that, well, so what; you two are, and there’s some of me in both of you, so I will be there in a way.”