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Rosa shakes her head. ‘Sorry, I don’t…?’
‘Yeah, not ‘splaining myself. Fact is I came here to find my dad? Literally never met him. Mum never met him, just got delivery of his spunk.’
‘Delivery?’ She frowns her total not getting it.
‘Sperm donor?’ I lean forward in a stagey whisper. ‘Mum’s a lesbian, see? Immaculate Conception Me.’
She shifts away a bit, carries on polishing.
‘Sorree, too much information?’ I drain my glass, ready for the off.
‘Just unexpected, I suppose. So, have you found him?’ Reassuring smile again.
‘Yeah, the bastard doesn’t want to know. He’s one of the McCalstry clan – a bit up themselves, it seems. He runs the motorbike museum?’
She shakes her head. ‘I don’t know many folk around here, my fiancé may…?’ She glances at the clock.
‘Ah, no, I’ll spare you the embarrassment.’ I look at my empty glass. ‘Time for one more, then I’ll be off?’
‘Maybe you’ve had enough for now?’ she says quietly.
‘Aw just the whisky, then, for the road. Don’t worry, I’m sooo not going to be hanging around?’
She purses her lips but gets me the drink anyway.
‘I’m sorry you’ve not had a good experience in Lochgillan,’ she says, softer again.
‘Yeah, well, no chance of father-to-son advice on handling women, eh?’ I say with a stupid grin. I am joking, aren’t I?
‘Hmm, how many boys you know get advice on women from their dads?’
‘Perhaps it pretty much happens, you know, by osmo-o-mo-sis?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She hesitates. ‘Some dads, I often think you’d be better off without them?’
Deep sigh. Thinking about Jarvis with his string of worse-than-useless stepdads, Aiden in Inverness? Ben’s dad’s lovely, but it’s hard to think of many that are. And, to be fair, the chances of Don saying anything useful on the subject of women is, like, a total zero? And yet there’s still a big but here.
‘I hear that such a lot,’ I say, still trying to work out what my point is. ‘I’m not saying it’s wrong, but it’s a cop-out. As in I hope if I have children, I put a bit of effort in, not just Quick Sperm-Squirt and Job’s a Good ‘un.’
Rosa blushes as she turns away to polish the other end of the bar. Robbie looks concerned in my direction.
‘He knows all about him.’ I wave my arm at Robbie. ‘Own worst enemy? What the hell was that about?’
Robbie walks towards me. ‘Come on now, laddie. It’s time you took a rest.’
I look round to see Rosa hovering by the staff door. OK, I’ve literally blown it and it’s nearly fiancée o’clock. I drain the last of the whisky and feel it stoke my fury as I make to leave. Then I see through the window Dirk’s Espace pulling into the car park.
‘Shit, no,’ I run back to the bar. ‘Please, Rosa, is there another way out?’ I plead with her. ‘There’s like some people coming I totally don’t want to see.’
Rosa looks nervously around her and beckons me to follow her through a storeroom to a door leading out to the back yard. ‘You can cut round by that track.’ She points to the far end of the yard. ‘It’ll bring you out farther up the road.’
‘Thanks,’ I yell as I hurry across the yard without a backward glance.
I get to the gate and struggle to unhook the chain. Give it a shake and then notice it’s padlocked. Fuck’s sake. I’m A Waster Get Me Out Of Here. I start to climb over, lose my footing and end up sprawled on the muddy path. Jesus fucking fuck.
I haul myself up and rub at my thigh where I landed. Feeling bruised and sore, I wipe my dirty grazed hands on my jeans and kick my way down the road. How come I had to sneak out like I have no right to be here? That’s the fucking message, let’s face it. Forced to hang out with loony Dutch couple just to glean a bit of knowledge about my heritage. Making an idiot of myself while I drown my sorrows. If Don would just acknowledge me, I wouldn’t be avoiding like half the population of this fucking place.
I hit the road and find myself heading away from the campsite. What the hell am I supposed to do with myself now?
