George was fiftytwo, a spry sort of bloke who could still hold his own on the dance floor. Hed worked his way up to a decent managerial post, had a solid circle of mates, even one friend hed been chatting with since they were gutterpunched kids. The one thing missing from his résumé, however, was a family of his own.
In his younger days he collected girlfriends like stamps, relishing the attention that came with being goodlooking and, apparently, popular. By the time he hit his forties he began to feel the weight of the calendar and wondered whether the youngatheart label was getting a little thin. He met a wonderful woman, and for two years they were practically inseparable, even flirting with the idea of a wedding. Then, out of the blue, she bolted for another chap.
George chalked it up to karma. After all, hed left a trail of broken hearts behind him; perhaps the universe was finally cashing in his debts. Serious relationships stayed elusive after that. The occasional lady would drift into his life, but they were either fleeting encounters or shortlived romances.
By the time he reached fifty, George had resigned himself to a bachelors life without children. If an elderly lady ever shows up wanting to share a cuppa and a quiet evening, Ill be overjoyed, he muttered to himself. If not, well, hed simply be on his own.
His family tree had thinned out as well. Both parents were gone, there were no siblings, and the only relatives left were a thirdcousin once removed and her sona nephew he saw on rare, obligatory visits. Most of his old friends were now happily married, many with grandchildren, and they preferred family gatherings over the occasional lads night out. They still invited George along, but he often felt like the odd one out. Age, he figured, was a strange new companion that made him think more about the looming twilight.
He didnt fancy becoming that grumpy old codger who chats with the telly, walks his terrier in the park, and mutters about young people these days. Yet the more he imagined it, the more it seemed inevitable.
Still, he kept meeting women, hoping one might be the one, and he kept turning up at his friends doors, treating their families as if they were his own. He saw his cousin now and then, caught up with his nephew, and otherwise went about his days expecting nothing dramatic to change.
One Saturday, as he was gearing up for a countryside day out with the lads, his phone rang. Assuming it was one of his mates, he snatched the handset without glancing at the screen, wedged it between shoulder and ear, and said, Yeah? while trying to shove a sandwich into his bag.
Good afternoon, George? a voice said.
He thought it was another sales pitch and was ready to hang uphe was always late anyway, and he liked to tell himself that his tardiness was because he was helping his mates wives organise the barbecue, not because he was a chronic procrastinator.
Another ring followed. This time he finally looked at the screen and saw an unfamiliar number.
Your credit offers are not of interest to me! he barked, ready to swipe away the call.
George, Im not calling about a loan, a calm female voice replied.
He slumped onto the sofa, puzzling over whether this was a new kind of scam.
Excuse me? he asked.
My names Poppy, Im twentytwo, she said. And I think Im your daughter.
Scammers, he thought, but this plot twist was oddly entertaining.
Glancing at his watch, George realised he still had a few minutes before the gang was due. He decided to play along.
Seriously? What makes you say that?
The woman who raised me is called Eleanor Finch, the girl answered, a hint of nervousness creeping in.
Georges mouth twitched into a smile as memories of a carefree youth floated uphim, about thirty, brighteyed, being sent on a work trip to a nearby town, a day packed with meetings and a night left wide open.
After a long day at the office, he ducked into a cosy pub near the train station. Two young women were perched at the bar, gossiping animatedly. They were younger than him, but that didnt bother George; he still fancied himself a bit of a lad.
He slid onto the bar stool, struck up a conversation, and before long one of the ladies, Claire, excused herself to see her boyfriend. The other, Eleanor, a recent graduate from the local college, lingered.
They sauntered through the nightlit streets, laughing as if theyd known each other for decades. Somewhere along the way George found himself at Eleanors modest flat, which she was sharing with her friend who had just left for a date. The next three days he spent in that town, and three evenings were shared with the delightful Eleanor.
When his brief assignment wrapped up, she saw him off at the station. He tried to hand over his mobile number, but she shook her head.
Theres no future for us, she said simply.
George agreed, though he slipped her his surname just in case she ever wanted to track him down. A month later, his mind had already moved on to another flirtationyes, hed still been a bit of a windbag.
Just then his phone buzzed.
George, are you there? a familiar voice called, pulling him back to reality.
Yes, Im here. Why do you think youre my daughter? he asked, baffled.
My mum told me. She passed away a month ago, the voice replied, hushed. Cancer. It was only after she died that she showed me a photo of youyour face, your name, your old business card that shed kept. Its been over twenty years, but I tracked you down on social media and found this number.
George was stunned into silence. The weight of it all settled heavily on his shoulders.
Why didnt Mum tell me about you? he whispered.
She said you werent ready for a family, that she didnt want to tether you to her, Poppy answered softly. Now Im on my own. I dont expect you to drop everything, but
Poppy, George interrupted, lets meet. Id really like to see you.
Id like that too, she breathed.
He cancelled the countryside outing on the spot. The news was a lot to take in, and his head spun with a mix of excitement and bewilderment, but he was determined to meet his daughter.
When they finally sat down in a small café, Poppy arrived trembling, clutching a photo of her mother and a copy of her birth certificate.
I dont want you to think Im a con artist, she said.
Dont worry, George chuckled, Im not exactly a millionaire either, so Im not expecting a gang of fraudsters here. I remember your mum well.
They talked for hours. Poppy spoke of her childhood, her mothers brief marriage that never quite worked, and her stepfather, who had faded from her life. Her mother had no other children, leaving Poppy essentially an only child, which drove her to find her father.
Im sorry I never knew about you, George said, shaking his head. I wish I could have been part of your life. My own marriage never happened, I have no kidswell, Ive just discovered I actually have one.
They agreed to see each other again.
That night George lay awake, feeling a pang of regret that Poppy had had to grow up without a dad, mixed with a fierce gratitude that she had finally found him. He vowed to make up for lost time.
A few weeks later George learned that Poppy and her mother had inherited a flat in a seaside town, but she had moved to the city where he lived because property prices were skyhigh. She was renting a room while trying to sell the seaside place.
George offered her a spare room in his house, hoping she could save up and later buy something proper here. He showered her with small gifts, celebrated birthdays, introduced her to his mates, and even joked about a distant cousin who might be a relative.
Six months after their first meeting, Poppy called him Dad for the first time. He stepped onto the balcony under the pretense of taking a call, but in truth he was sobbing quietly, overwhelmed by the new title.
Two years later Poppy married a kindhearted chap, and when her baby arrived George went absolutely bonkers, scrambling to be the grandfather he never thought hed be. He started making up for all those missed birthdays, school runs, and bedtime stories.
Now George no longer feels like a lone wolf. Hes found a partner of his own with whom he plans to grow old, and hes got a daughter, a soninlaw, and a grandson. Only now does he realise how close he came to missing out on a life called family.
