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‘Nice one.’ Jarvis lights a freshly rolled spliff.
I sit back, take a couple of sips of beer, then I’m up again, breaking up more wood.
‘Hey, chill out now, man.’ Jarvis gestures to me with a wave of smoke.
I hesitate, still not happy, then I reach for the spliff. ‘OK, I am that shallow: bribe me with drugs and I will lighten up.’ I treat them all to a mega grin.
‘Yo, bro!’ says Ben. ‘Tell us about your birthday surprise.’
‘Surprise?’ Emily accuses.
The evening sun breaks through the heavy cloud, lighting the swirls of wood smoke. I take a breath. Is this why I’m still feeling so wired? I start to tell them about Don’s letter, hoping I can get it out my system.
‘Whoa,’ Ben speaks for them all. ‘You have a dad?’
I pull out the envelope and hand it to Ben, signal the OK for him to open it.
Ben’s eyebrows twitch as he reads, suppressing a giggle. He looks up and mouths Oh My God.
‘Let me see!’ Emily grabs the letter and Francesca comes to look with her. More gasps and OMGs. It’s almost gratifying.
‘That’s your dad?’ Emily’s eyes couldn’t get rounder.
‘Have a look at this.’ Fran squeezes herself next to Jarvis on his log.
‘It’s the weirdest, to think of him as an actual person,’ I muse. ‘As in living a life somewhere, like totally fucking oblivious?’
‘You’ve got a dad, Gethin.’ I swear Emily’s eyes are filling – maybe it’s the smoke.
‘He’s not a dad. Fuck’s sake. It’s like some seedy internet dating blurb. Fun times for the future roasting blaeberries? What the hell are blaeberries anyway?’
‘The bikes sound pretty sick,’ Ben chips in. ‘All sexy leather and shiny chrome?’
‘Wallace and Gromit sidecar?’ Fran adds.
‘You could find him,’ Emily pipes up.
‘No way! Shut the fuck up, the lot of you!’ I shout.
‘He must have cared, why would he write that for you?’ Emily keeps on, regardless.
‘I can’t get my head round him existing, never mind if he gives a toss.’ I rub my hand over my eyes. The image of him in that photo sticks, as if he’s been created fully malformed.
‘You must find him, Gethin; it would make such a difference for you to have a dad.’
‘Bollocks Emily.’
Nobody says anything. I break some more sticks, the sound of the wood cracking magnified. The sky darkens heavy purple as the sun disappears.
Jarvis lopes over to me with the letter.
‘What do youthink, Jarvis?’
‘Don’t get me on the subject of dads.’ He grimaces, holds the letter above the fire.
I can see the heat waves rising, the paper starting to curl.
‘What should I do?’ my voice strains to get the words out.
