‘It’s all in the past, Dad, but thanks. I really appreciate you telling me these things. I was pretty awful to you too. God, the things I said . . .’

‘The difference is, you were a kid. I should have pulled myself together and known how to behave. You really loved him, didn’t you, that David fella?’

‘I did, with all my heart. What a terrible tragedy.’

‘And DJ, he’s my only grandson, and for my punishment, I missed every moment of him growing up. I used to imagine building model aeroplanes with him, teaching ’im stuff about me pigeons. I’ve sat up ’ere all these lonely years thinking about him while you was in college or at work, telling myself it was my own fault.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘I can’t believe he’s actually coming here to meet me.’ He hiccupped, then sniffed. After a moment with his thoughts, he said, ‘Yer mum would have loved him, too. It’s odd, but I’ve felt very close to her lately.’ He looked up. ‘Can’t remember what I did two minutes ago, these days, but my early days with your mum have come back with such clarity, like yesterday. Egh, Shelly love, we had some grand times I can tell you.’

Shelly couldn’t meet his eyes. She got onto her knees on the candlewick and had a look at what had come out of the pillow-bag.

‘For goodness’ sake, Dad, look, Gran Gertie’s uniform! How old must this stuff be . . . more than a hundred years?’

‘Open the other cupboard door on the tallboy, Shelly.’

She did, and there, taped inside was an old 1997 calendar from the pigeon club with all the race dates ringed. ‘See if you can get that calendar off without too much damage, will yer. It’s got me first big race win on it.’

She managed to peel the corner tapes off and remove the calendar. Behind it, taped to the tallboy, was an original VAD poster with three volunteers in their uniforms. ‘Look at that! Where did you get it, Dad?’

‘It was in with Gertie’s stuff. I wanted to hold on to it, for a keepsake. She was good to me, was our Gertie. Mothers-in-law can be tricky creatures, and though technically she wasn’t mine, I respected her like she was.’ He shrugged. ‘So I wanted a souvenir when she passed in ’98. Yer mum said I could have the poster.’

‘You old softy!’ She grinned at him affectionately.

*

As lunchtime neared the following weekend, Shelly showered and changed into a new pair of jeans and a white shirt. She applied a little make-up and sprayed her hair with something the hairdresser convinced her was essential for a healthy shine.