Opening his father’s filing cabinet, he was presented with their whole life. It was divided into files, all colour-coordinated with labels like TV LICENCE and CAR PAPERWORK. Luke’s heart clenched when he saw his dad’s handwriting on the labels. Would he ever sign his name again? Right now, he was so angry and deflated, he wouldn’t even try. The doctors had spelled out how hard Frank’s fight would be, and how much worse it could have been. How crashing his car brought people running to his side straight away. They’d spotted the signs, got him to hospital. He had every chance of recovering.
That was day one.
When Frank finally came to, the man Luke called Dad looked like a different person. Acted like one too. Luke understood, it was a lot. He’d been struggling with the news himself, but this was different. It was like the light went out in his father that day, and his dad seemed intent on smashing every bulb they tried to turn back on. When he’d kicked him out of the place, the nurses all giving him sympathetic looks as he passed them, Luke had sat in his car in the half empty car park and cried, hidden by the dark of the night around him. He felt like little orphan Annie, adrift without a responsible adult to hand. He needed to get his dad back, and fast.
Looking through the labels, he saw what he was looking for: INSURANCE. He reached for it, but in between the suspension file and the back of the cabinet was another file, hidden away. The label was tatty, faded and not written in his father’s scrawl. Luke recognised the style though. The looping S’s and Y’s. His mother had written SOMEDAY on the label. Pulling out the two files, he went and sat at his dad’s desk. He was long retired now, but still sat in here every day. Filing his post, writing to friends, talking to the birds that he fed from his windowsill every day. There were none there now, but he wondered how many mornings the birds would come to the window, looking for Frank. Luke pushed the thicker insurance file to one side, and slowly opened the Someday folder.
In it were clippings of holiday destinations, ideas for family days out in zoos, theme parks, anything that might take a person’s fancy. There were gardening ideas too, home décor. Kids games. Blue Peter crafting and sticking. Some of the photos Luke recognised, they were replicated from his childhood. He could still remember helping his dad. When he was old enough to hold a hammer, he was eager to be like him, do things together. Cutting all the wood for the sleepers, the pair of them painting them together in the sunshine with large glasses of pop filled with ice. He remembered the zoo days, the aquarium visits, the camping trips they shared. Man and boy, under the stars. He kept flicking through, realising that his mother had made plans for their lives together, their little family, but they never got to do any of it.
But his dad did. The articles and clippings, notes from his mum, notes with his own scrawl on, he’d kept it going. Adding to it, ticking off the ones they had done. He welled up when he saw the next one. His mum had written on one of the photos, a picture of the French Alps. In the sky, in blue pen, she’d written: Skiing holidays for the whole family! Can’t wait to tick this one off!
A tear slid down Luke’s cheek as he read his mother’s wishes, over and over. Stuff they had done, and many more they hadn’t. The more daring stuff didn’t have a tick anywhere. His dad had lost his mojo it seemed when it came to finishing the list. Maybe it was a bit too adventurous for Dad. He was a homebody, and he didn’t even watch the news anymore because it freaked him out so much. Luke had heard from family members how bubbly his mother was, full of life, daring. She drew the shyness out of her husband, just as much as he was the calm to her storm. And then the storm died out, and the landscape of their lives changed forever.
‘Oh Dad,’ Luke sobbed, closing the file and tucking both under his arm. The next morning, when he went home to his empty flat, the first thing he noticed was the invite from Hans, his longtime friend. Inviting him to come and stay in the French Alps, to share in the joy of Hans and Holly’s first child. He’d never met Holly properly. FaceTime wasn’t the same. He’d already bought the card to send with his regrets over not being able to make the trip out there, but looking at it now, something clicked. Rushing to the hallway to grab the files from his bag, he chucked the insurance folder on the kitchen countertop and rummaged in the ‘Someday’ folder for what he was looking for.
A second later, he was dialling.
‘Lukie boy! How are you? Calling to tell me you are snubbing my unborn child for another week sat in front of a screen like a pasty loser, yeah?’
Luke smiled, the first hint of adrenalin running through his veins.
‘Not quite, mate. Not quite. Listen, you got a minute? Something’s happened, and I need your help.’
*
Hans had already been up and popped his head around the door like a giant bouncing ginger Tigger. He bounced around for a while, mooned Luke whilst he was on a conference call, and then headed back downstairs to work. No mention of Rebecca, or where she was, but he did raise his eyebrows at the
