Though his only plan was to meet Samantha on Saturday, Daniel had booked the room at the bed and breakfast for the whole of the Easter weekend.

He wiped the steam from the mirror in the bathroom and squirted shaving foam into his hand.

It had been a long time since he’d spent a weekend away from Cornwall and he was secretly glad of the change of scene and break in routine. Really, he could have driven to Bristol and back in the same day, but then what would he have done with the rest of the weekend? The answer, he knew, was nothing.

He pressed his razor against his cheek and brought it down to his chin. His stubble, like his hair, was grey nowadays and he wondered how he would appear to Samantha. Would she even recognise him? The man she’d married was not who she would meet today. There may be some forgotten mannerisms, some familiar nuances, but he was not the same man who had left her. No, that man of the past had been twisted with anger and self-loathing. The man of the present could go weeks without feeling any emotion at all. If he was honest, Daniel would have to admit that there were days in which his indifference alarmed him. There were days in which he willed himself to be stirred by something, anything, for his mere existence to be affirmed. But these days were now few and far between. It was better, he had learnt in time, to expect nothing. That way he could never be disappointed.

And yet all that had changed two months ago. When he found out he was a father. For the first time in years, he’d felt a flicker of feeling, of belonging. He was a father.

Hearing his mobile ring, Daniel stepped out of the bathroom to see that it was Samantha calling. His heart lurched as he picked it up. What if she’d changed her mind? What if she didn't want him to meet Christopher after all?

‘Daniel,’ she said when he picked up. ‘Are you in Bristol yet?’

‘I’ve just arrived,’ he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and bracing himself for bad news.

‘Right. Well, I’m just calling to let you know I’m only going to be able to stay for an hour. Stuart has asked friends of ours for dinner and I’ve nothing in the house. That’s probably easier for you anyway, isn’t it? I mean, how long is the drive back to Cornwall?’

‘Well-,’

‘Exactly,’ she said, interrupting him. There was a pause before she added, ‘Actually, there’s something else I wanted to make clear before we meet.’

‘What’s that?’

She sighed. ‘Let’s just keep the talk about Christopher, shall we? I’m not interested in raking up the past. We have a twenty year old son you’ve never met. And he’s in prison. I think that’s focus enough for the time being, don’t you?’

When Samantha hung up, Daniel looked down at the phone in his hands and felt a pang of regret for even coming here. What the hell was he thinking? Did he honestly think that he could be any sort of father to a son he’d never met? The idea was ludicrous at best, pathetic at worst.

Had it not been for the story in the newspaper, Daniel would never have known he had a son. For twenty years Samantha had done her utmost to ensure that he would never find out. And who could blame her? Who could even question her decision? He, Daniel, completely understood why she had done what she had done. And so why should anything be about to change now?

When his phone rang again, he looked down at the screen to see, ‘Unknown number calling.’

Daniel answered tentatively, fully expecting a robotic voice to inform him that he’d won a cruise or some other such nonsense.

‘It’s Christopher,’ said the voice at the other end of the line.

‘Christopher,’ Daniel echoed dumbly. His grip tightened around the phone.

‘Mum gave me your number and I just-,’

He paused, then carried on: ‘I just wanted to tell you that I don’t care about whatever happened between you and her. You’re my dad. You’re my dad and I want to know you.’

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, but found that he had nothing to say. Moments that felt like hours passed before he said quietly, ‘Thank you. Thank you, Christopher.’