65 Roses and a Trunki

A Promise

Lives turn on small details.

Mine turned on a knock on a door.

A tall, thin man with a scruffy beard came into the classroom. I didn't know he was coming for me, so I carried on with my work.

I heard whispers. I looked up and saw him talking to the teacher. They glanced across at me as they spoke. There was something in their gaze. I didn't like it. It's the way people look when something breaks the familiar patterns of the world and turning away isn't an option.

The tall, thin man with the scruffy beard walked towards my desk.

Whatever he'd brought into the classroom, it was for me.

There were five boys and one girl in our group. We'd just begun our A levels and this was the first day of An Introduction to Engineering, a three-day course at Loughborough University. The problem we'd been given to solve was how to design a retractable platform to allow people to get closer to the wing of an airplane during production.

This was the kind of problem I liked. It had a solution. It wasn't messy.

The tall, thin man touched my shoulder.

I froze.

– Rob, he whispered, you'd better come with me.

I followed him out into the corridor. I knew what was coming. I brushed my shoulder with my hand, as if to wipe the knowledge away. It stuck. I tried again.

– It's your father. He's on the phone and he needs to talk to you.

We went into his office.

– Dad? I said.

– Rob …

He paused.

I knew.

Please don't talk to me. Let me go back in.

– … It's Kate … he said, his voice frail.

Please, please, ...