Tim was trudging home from work yet again, far later than hed hoped. Exhausted, he scowled at his wheezing Ford Fiesta, which had coughed and stalled three times alreadyprobably sensing its days were numbered. Soon, very soon, hed finally buy the shiny new car hed dreamed of for a decade. The thought made him smirk as he climbed the stairs to his flat, imagining himself behind the wheel, cruising through London without a care. That dream was why he scrimped, why he worked every overtime shift thrown his way, why he couldnt even remember his last proper holiday. His boss appreciated the dedication, sure, but rarely rewarded it. Why bother, when good old Tim would keep ploughing on like a faithful workhorse?
He lived on the outskirts of town in a cramped flat inherited from his granddad. His parents were up in Manchester, and their rare visits always ended the same waylectures about settling down, starting a family. As if that had ever been a priority.
Reaching the fifth floor (because of course the lift was broken again), Tim nearly tripped over what he assumed was a drunk slumped outside his door. Flicking on his phone torch, he squintednot a drunk. A kid. A girl, maybe twelve, blinking awake like a startled rabbit. A photo fluttered from her hands. His photo. He recognised it instantlya lads night out years ago, back when he still had friends. Most of them had drifted away as life took them in different directions. The girl snatched up the picture and pressed herself against the wall. Where had she got it? Was this some elaborate scam?
«Hello! Im here to see you,» she squeaked.
Tim fumbled for his keys, pretending not to hear. What did this kid want? Was she bait for some setup? He glanced aroundno cameras, no coppers hiding in the empty flats nearby. The whole floor was deserted, the neighbourhood so grim even the buses avoided it.
«I dont know you, and I didnt invite you,» he said, shoving the door open.
«Wait! Ive got nowhere else to go! Youre Tim Wilkins, right?» Her voice wobbled, but her eyes were sharp. Too sharp.
«Yeah. And?»
«Then its true! Youre my dad! You have to help me!»
Tim barked out a laugh. «Pull the other one. Ive got no bloody kids.»
«Then explain this!» She thrust the photo at him. «Mum said she met you at a uni partysome student event she was performing at. One night, thats all it was, but then well, here I am!»
His stomach lurched. Thirteen years ago, there *had* been a girlEmily. A whirlwind fling after hed finished trade school. Hed brought her back here, something he never did, and panicked when she asked if he liked her. Sent her packing by morning. Could this kid really be?
His eyes snagged on a birthmark under her eara tiny red star. Just like his.
Bloody hell.
Still, he scoffed. «Even if you are minewhich is a big *if*I dont owe you or your mum a thing. Sleep on the sofa tonight. Tomorrow, youre gone.»
«Youre horrible!» she spat. «Mum was right about you!»
«Yeah, well, lifes harsh. Deal with it.»
But as she huddled on the sofa, Tim stewed. He found the crowdfunding pageEmilys heart surgery, stalled at a pitiful sum. People would donate to puppies before a single mum with a teenage kid. That night, he did something monumentally stupid: he tucked his entire car savings into her backpack.
Three months later, Tim came home to find Emily and the girlLilywaiting by his door.
«You saved me,» Emily whispered.
Lily flung herself at him. «Youre the best dad ever!»
Tim, bewildered, let her.
Over tea (and shop-bought cupcakes), Emily explained: shed been too scared to tell him about the pregnancy back then. Lily had tracked him down without her knowing.
«You really didnt have to help,» Emily said.
Tim shrugged. «Suppose I did.»
Later, he took Lily to the fair. She won a stuffed bear twice her size. He called in sickfirst time everand his boss nearly had a coronary.
Six months on, Tim sold the Fiesta. Not for the flash motor hed dreamed of, but a sensible Volvobig enough for three.
And when Emily slipped her hand into his at Lilys school play, he didnt let go.
