A sleek car pulls up outside a charming little flower shop in the heart of London. The boutique, new to the area, has quickly become a favourite among locals, with people even travelling from neighbouring towns for its unique floral arrangements.
«Could I get your most beautiful bouquet, please? The biggest one you havemy wife just had our son!» beams the young man, his face glowing as he speaks to the florist, a pretty woman named Emily.
On his way to the hospital, James replays the moment in his mindthe first time hell cradle his newborn, the father hell become. Memories of his own father weigh heavy. The only bright one: a towering man lifting him high, sparking equal parts terror and exhilaration. But soon after, Robert Walker abandoned them, leaving not just emotionally but stripping James and his mother, Margaret, of their home.
It started with frequent visits from his mothers friend, Victoria, a nurse who often brought medicinal spirits to dinner. When Margaret protested, Victoria would wave her off. «Oh, come on! Whats the harm? Its just for appetite!» Shed gush over James father, «Youre so luckya husband like yours should be cherished!»
One evening, Victoria invited them to her birthday. She lived across town with her two daughters. All night, she clung to Robert, refilling his glass, lavishing attention.
Then, one day after football practice, James overheard his parents arguing in the kitchen.
«Im leaving. I love Victoria. Theres nothing left between usno love, no respect. She values me, unlike you.»
«She values your wallet, you fool,» Margaret shot back.
«Knew youd say that. Always the drama. By the way, were selling the flathalf the moneys mine.»
«What? Have you no shame? My parents gifted us that home when we married!»
«Exactly*our* wedding, not yours. Its joint property.»
«And James? Wheres he supposed to live, to sleep, to eat?!»
«And where am *I* supposed to live with Victoria and her girls in a one-bed? Fairs fair…»
For two years, James and Margaret stayed with his grandparents. Later, they scraped together a mortgage for their own place. Eventually, Margaret remarried. When James finished uni and wed his wife, Charlotte, the flat was signed over to him.
«Ill love my son. Ill never betray himor Charlie,» James thinks, driving home. The next few days will be a whirlwind of baby shopping, decorating the nursery. Theyd held off buying things earlyCharlotte was superstitious.
Approaching his building, James spots a balding stranger. Something about him feels faintly familiar.
«James! Hello, son! Dont recognise me?»
«Dad…?»
«The very one! Saw you step out of that fancy carlovely motor, by the way.»
«Sorry, Im in a hurry.» Jaw tight, James tries to sidestep him.
«Sorry? In a hurry? No need for formalitieswere family! Fancy a quick chat? Man to man?»
Normally, James wouldnt bother. But todays joy softens him. Silent, he heads inside. Robert takes it as an invite and follows.
«Nice place! Roomy,» Robert remarks, eyeing the flat. «Youve done well for yourself. More than capable of helping your old man out.»
«Help with what?»
«Dont play daft. Youve got spare rooms. And clearly, the means to sort my problems. Your own fathers in a bind.»
«Your problems arent mine. Twenty years, no contactwere strangers. What do you *want*?»
«Got into a row with Victorias son-in-law. Called me a freeloader! *Me!* After all I did for her and those girlsworked the factory, paid their way. But retire? Suddenly Im dead weight. Kicked me out! Left me drowning in loans *she* took in my name. Just want whats fair…»
«Fair?» James scoffs. «You took half from Mums flat, vanished. Not a penny in child support.»
«That money went on holidays, Victorias placenothing wrong with that! Mistake was financing her daughters weddings and honeymoons. Youll understand, son. Help me. Ive been wronged.»
«Holidays? Mum worked seven days a week. I was handing out flyers at thirteen, then washing cars. No holidays for *us*.»
«Thats my boya real man. Wont abandon your dad now.»
«My dad died when I was ten.»
«Better late than never, eh? Well make up for lost time.»
«How?»
«Could crash in that spare room. Just till Im back on my feet. Bloods thicker, right?»
«That rooms for my son. Whoever gave you this address shouldve mentioned he was born *today*. Ill be the father he deserves. Now, *leave*. Ive furniture to buy.» He points to the door.
Outside, Robert calls after him. «Jamesthat cars flash. Trade it for something cheaper? Pocket the difference, clear my debts. Do the decent thing…»
«Youre a traitor. I needed a father as a boy. Now? I dont need you. Stay out of my lifeor I *wont* be polite.»
James strides to his car, leaving Robert stunned. Not an ounce of pity remains. He knows this choicefor his son, for a future free of his own painis right.
