This year we had planned to float around the Tobago Cays on a wooden three-masted schooner from Bequia as the century changed. Ellen said that I could drink champagne all day and all night, that I could pour whisky into the Caribbean and snorkel in it if I felt so moved. The way she looked at it, the fact that either of us made it that far would preclude any restrictions on levity or abandonment. And as that day approaches, I visit her each day in the oncology unit. It may be that we both do not make it that far.

5 January 1973

John was calmer today. He got up and ate lunch with me and when I was washing up he said, ‘Fm sorry.’

I turned to look at him. ‘What for?’

‘For crying like I did. I could tell it was loud.’

I looked at his thin face, his eyes dazzling me. ‘You cry whenever you want, pumpkin.’

‘Do you want to know why I cried?’ He fiddled with the tassels on his dressing-gown belt as his eyes grew brighter. ‘

Only if you want to tell me.’

I sat at the table again and lit a cigarette as he talked. He was worried because he thought that if his father came back and saw him as he is now, he’d leave again, because he’s as damaged as Dai Davies thought he would be. John blames himself — sweet Jesus — because he’s not special.

The storm that blew up last night was still raging, slapping branches against the kitchen window, as I smoked and tried to think of what to say.

‘John, he’s not coming back. Believe me. He won’t come back. He’s made another life for himself. I know that seems a strange thing to say — that he’s made a life, like he’s a god or something. What I mean is that he’s forgotten the old one with us — just rubbed it out. He has a new wife.’ I drew smoke deep into my lungs, because I had to decide whether to tell John that not only did Dai Davies have a new wife, he also had two children. John has, somewhere, two half-brothers. ‘He’s not coming back. You don’t have to worry about him and you don’t have to think about him because you’ll never see him.’

‘But I want to.’ John lowered his head and I knew why he did that — because he thought he was rejecting me.

‘Well, maybe when you’re older you will. But right now, pumpkin, I think you should just think about sleeping and resting and getting better.’ I went back to the sink and my hands trembled so much — hangover? fury? both? — that I broke a glass in the soapy water.

I don’t know where Dai Davies and his spawn are, but the thought that even from the distance of years he can make my son feel not special enrages me.

4 February 1973