as an ill old man. What if he didn’t recognise her? What if he told her to go away? Round and round the questions went until she felt dizzy.
‘The nurse is with him at the moment, once she’s finished, you can see him.’ Alain’s quiet voice broke her out of her reverie. ‘And Helena is not expected until after lunch today.’ He held his hand out. ‘Come on. I’ll take you in.’
Taking a deep breath Belinda stood and reached out for Alain’s hand. This was it, now or never. She could choose to walk into the hospice and see her father for the first time in thirty-five years or she could walk away.
A nurse smiled her welcome at Belinda. ‘Mrs Marshall? I’ll take you through to see your father.’
‘Does he know I’m here?’ Belinda asked nervously. ‘We haven’t been in touch for a very long time. I don’t want to upset him. If you think it’s a bad idea, I can leave.’
‘Yes, he knows you’re here. I’ll come in with you and if I think it’s too much, I’ll ask you to leave, okay? Here we are,’ and she pushed the door open onto a light airy room.
Belinda studied the face of the man who lay in the bed by the window for several seconds, unable to move forward.
The nurse was at his side, speaking gently, ‘Enzo, your daughter is here to see you.’
Enzo turned his head to look at Belinda standing at the foot of his bed. ‘Blindy.’
Belinda, forcing back the tears that threatened at the sound of the old nickname, smiled. ‘Dad,’ she said as she cautiously made her way towards the side of the bed and sat on the chair the nurse had placed there.
‘Oh, Blindy, I never thought to see you again,’ Enzo said, reaching out with his hand for hers.
Belinda gently took the liver-spotted hand with its arthritic swollen knuckles in hers. ‘I love you, Dad. I’ve missed you so much.’
Enzo shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you too.’
‘Shh. We’re together again now, so let’s make the best of it. We’ve a lot of catching up to do.’ She sat looking at him, gently stroking his hand and wondering where to begin after all those years of not being in touch.
‘Is… is Jean with you?’
Belinda’s hand stilled and she bit her lip. He didn’t know. She shook her head. ‘No. She died three years ago.’
Enzo closed his eyes but couldn’t stop the tears sliding down his cheeks. Belinda took a tissue from the packet on the bedside table and gently wiped his face. She sat there not speaking, holding and stroking his hand, waiting for him to come to terms with the sad news.
It was several moments before Belinda saw Enzo’s chest heave as he took a deep breath before opening his eyes. ‘She was the love of my life and I failed her. Did she ever forgive me?’
‘Mum urged me to come to Brittany and lay the ghosts to rest,’ Belinda said. ‘She told me she was sorry too.’ She couldn’t in all honesty say whether her mum had forgiven him, she didn’t know, but Enzo seemed to accept her answer and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come and find you. I wish… I wish I’d come three years ago when I promised Mum.’
She fought back the tears, inwardly berating herself for allowing the feelings of abandonment to overrule her need to have contact with her dad. Seeing him, like this, she knew she would have given anything to turn the clock back and grab whatever extra time with him she could.
‘You’re here now. That’s all that matters.’ Enzo closed his eyes again and they both sat in silence for a few moments, Belinda struggling with her emotions and suspecting that Enzo was the same.
The nurse came in, quietly and efficiently checked everything was all right, smiled at Belinda and left the room again.
‘You look like your mum,’ Enzo said quietly, opening his eyes to watch her. ‘Beautiful. Tell me about your life.’
‘I have a daughter, Chloe, your granddaughter, and she has twins, Charlie and Aimee, which makes you a great-grandad. I have some photos on my phone. Would you like to see?’
When Enzo nodded, Belinda took her phone out and scrolled through to find a couple of Chloe and the twins. She stood up and angled the phone so that Enzo could see the screen.
‘Chloe, she looks like you,’ Enzo said. ‘I would have liked