"Gem and Kieran have got Lucy and Ivory taken care of. We've got some time now to sit together, just us, to talk a little."

George pats the seat next to him on the sofa, hinting at Birdie to sit down. She gives a smile to her father, accepting the invitation without hesitation. For a moment, she sits in silence, contemplating exactly what it is she wishes to ask him. She watches as he glances down and takes her hand within his own — a touch she has longed for her entire life.

"Um." She falters, searching her mind for the words to use. "I guess I just want to know about you. Everything."

"That's a rather broad subject, darling," George responds. "Where do I start?"

"After you left Mum," Birdie requests. "I just want to know where you went. What you did. I know you've briefly explained before, but I wanted to know in more detail."

"Okay." He nods, pressing the palm of his free hand to his knee, as a visual bracing for his answer. "Well, I'd known since I was fifteen that I was gay. But even with knowing that, I ... I was rather promiscuous. I never had any long-term relationship — well, not for the first few years after I figured things out. Your mum was, unfortunately, one of those people I just saw as a casual fling. It didn't mean much to me. She was a lovely girl, don't get me wrong ... just not what I was into. Quite literally. I only saw her as a one-night stand, or perhaps a few nights. I think she saw it as far more. I cut it off with her because it never meant much to me to begin with. But you should know that, if I'd had the knowledge you existed, I wouldn't have lost contact. I'd have been there for you the entire time. I know I was only about eighteen, but ... it wouldn't have made me a negligent or absent father. If only I'd known."

"I know." Birdie nods, her eyes softening. "I just wish you had have known I existed."

"Me too. But in another sense, I have no idea where I'd be in life now. I may not have met Levi," George reminds her. "And you wouldn't have your younger siblings. An auntie and uncle for your kids. We missed out on so many years, but it doesn't mean we haven't got the chance to make up for it."

Birdie exhales, as a substitute for a laugh. "You're right."

"But anyway," George continues. "After I left your mother, I had about three more years of doing the same thing — meaningless flings. That was, until I started a job at a cinema in Watford. I met a girl there — Stephanie — and we became friends. But that friendship eventually became a relationship. I think I'd managed to convince myself that I was capable of being in love with a woman. Or maybe, I was trying to force myself to be straight ... you know, to hide who I really was. I can't even begin to tell you how awful I felt during that time."

"So how did you end up meeting Levi?" Birdie asks.

"Steph was out at a party with her friends one evening. I was at home going through my typical depressive episodes because I hated how my life was going. I got a phone call around eleven o'clock at night. I figured it was Steph calling, to ask me to pick her up; it wasn't. It was Levi calling the wrong number. We got talking, and after that night we called frequently. I was apprehensive at first, because he was a stranger over the phone. Turns out, things worked out for the best."

"So how did you end up with Levi? Did you break up with Stephanie?"

"Well," George sighs. "It wasn't easy. Not even slightly. I was closeted and terrified of coming out. Levi and I started an affair after meeting in secret a handful of times. A couple of months in, I found out Stephanie was pregnant. I ended up feeling torn between being there for the baby, and coming out and starting my life with Levi. Not long before the baby was due, Levi became impatient for me to tell Stephanie the truth. He gave me a deadline to come out, which I ended up missing. He left me, and I became incredibly suicidal. It was rough. I ended up confessing to Stephanie, and she then told me the baby wasn't even mine. I'd spent months preparing for his arrival; months of being excited; months of anticipating being a father. And in that moment, it all came crashing down. I was heartbroken. I told Stephanie I never wanted to see her again. Don't get me wrong — we're friends now. But it hurt for so many years afterwards. But now, Levi and I are godfathers to her children, including that baby. Alex, is his name. He's only a few years younger than you."

"Wow." Birdie gaze averts to the ground, as she processes what she's been told. "And Levi? How did you guys get back together?"

"I decided a few weeks later that I wanted to end everything, once and for all. I was ready to die, truth be told. I left him a voice message on the phone, and he heard it with his mother. As soon as he realised what was going on, he drove down to London where I was living while his mother kept me talking on the phone. It was almost a bit like a movie. He arrived at my home and it felt like the whole world stood still, and nothing else mattered. He has always been my safe space; my home; my everything. And I'm just grateful that we have been able to live this life together. I wouldn't have made it this far without him."

"I'm so glad he makes you happy, Dad. It sounds like you've been through it." Birdie lets out a light chuckle, in an attempt to make light of such a heavy story.

"There's far more to it, but I suppose that's a story for another day." George leans back into his seat. "What about your story?"

"Uh, well ... I was born in nineteen-eighty-two. I grew up relatively normal, with my mother and a man who I believed was my father. When I was old enough to understand, my mother told me that this guy wasn't my real dad. Of course, I loved him as though he was my real dad. He'd raised me and loved me unconditionally. But at the same time, I wanted to know who my real father was. My mother gave me the photograph of you both, that my grandmother had taken. She told me your name — well, she tried to. Your name isn't exactly easy to say. She tried to spell it out and write it down on paper, and I held onto it for years with that picture. I asked people wherever I went. I tried to research, but without the internet it was difficult. I remember a fair few years ago, I searched your name on Google, and there was only one real result. It was a news article that mentioned how Levi had been held at knifepoint in a hotel in London. As sad as it sounds, I went to the hotel and asked if they could give me your details. They refused because of confidentiality. I figured they would, but I tried anyway."

"You put a lot of effort into finding me, didn't you?" George asks.

"I sure did," Birdie laughs. "About a year later, I had Lucy. And then a couple of years later I had Ivory. A few years after that, my mum died. The father that had raised me had already been gone a fair number of years. That spurred me on, and I knew I had to find you. I searched your name on Facebook, and nothing came up. I searched every website you could imagine. Nothing. I almost gave up, to be honest with you."

"So how did you eventually find me?"

"By pure fluke," Birdie admits. "I was still asking people if they knew you, even up to the end of this year. Even complete strangers. I know it isn't exactly foolproof, but you just never know. I bumped into a woman in a department store a couple of months ago, and just happened to ask her. She said she'd gone to school with you, and the last she heard, you'd moved to Goring. She didn't know much else, but it was more than enough. I came here and started knocking on doors. Nobody seemed to know you, or where you lived. That was, until I knocked on a door not too far from here. A lovely lady answered and told me you were her son-in-law. She told me you lived here, so I came straight over. And ... here I am."

"You got incredibly lucky to have found somebody who knew me," George acknowledges. "London is a huge place."

"I was lucky, yes. But it took me decades to find you. I probably asked the entire population of London about you in that time."

George snickers, before reaching forward to push some of Birdie's hair out her face lovingly. "But now you're here. Now I've found a beautiful daughter who I get to love for the rest of my life, and I'm so grateful for that."

"Me too, Dad." Birdie closes the gap between them, pulling her father into a tight embrace. "I'm so glad we get to make up for lost time."

"We have to make that our pact." George's voice muffles against her shoulder. "I promise we will make up for lost time, sweetheart."

Birdie's limbs loosen, as she melts further into the hug. "I promise, too."

• • •

"Gem?"

The call from George earns her attention from across the living room. "Yeah, Dad?"

George takes a breath inward, almost nervous. "I wanted to give you something."

"What is it?" She rises from her position on the sofa, approaching him at the doorway to the room. "I swear, if it's another pair of your socks—"

"I promise, it's not," George assures her. "It's something incredibly precious to me. Something that very few people ever get to touch, let alone look at."

"Okay ... " Her response almost presents as a question.

"This." George brings, from behind his back, what he wishes to give to her. "But listen: Kieran has just as much right to look at it as you do. And Birdie, of course. But I wanted to give it to you, because I believe you would like it the most."

"Are you serious?" Gemma gasps. "Your diary, Dad?"

"Deadly serious." He rests it gently in her hands, giving his daughter a mellow smile. "I've written in this book for decades. It's like an illusion — bigger on the inside. It may look small, but there's a lot in there."

"But why do you want us to have it? Aren't you going to write more stuff in there?"

"I don't need to anymore. I used the diary throughout my life, to vent out negative emotion. Of course, there's positive memories in there too. I want you to look through it, and learn about me. Not just as your father, but as a human being; a person. I went through a lot to get to where I am today, and I think it's important that you knew about it."

"Wow. I don't know what to say," Gemma says. "I'm just a little speechless that you'd trust me with something so sentimental."

"I won't be here forever," George answers. "One day, when I'm gone, you'll be able to look back on it and remember me. I won't be here to need the diary myself, will I? It's better to quit while I'm ahead, and let you have it. That way, if you decide to look at it before I go, you can ask me about anything you're curious about."

"I guess that makes sense." Gemma glances at the front cover of the little book, admiring the frayed edges and the lettering, worn from age. "Thank you, Dad. I'll make sure Kieran and Birdie get to read it, once I have."

"You're welcome, darling." George leans down, to plant a soft kiss upon her forehead. "Look after it for me."

"Of course." She turns the book on its side, to open it up. "Wait ... it's locked."

"Oh! Of course." George shakes his head, amused at his forgetfulness. He reaches into his jean pocket, withdrawing a key. "Here you go. For the padlock."

Gemma grins, finding slight hilarity in her beloved dad's silliness. She unlocks the diary, opening it up to the first page. "Wow. This starts all the way back in the nineteen-seventies."

"Enjoy it. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad."

George decides it's best to leave her alone to read through it, instead opting to go and see his son in his room. As he arrives at the bedroom door, he knocks once. "Hello, mate. It's your favourite dad."

He hears Kieran clambering around on the other side of the door for a moment, before his access is granted. "Come in."

George opens the door, finding Kieran laid carelessly across his bed, playing a game on his console. "Having a nice chilled afternoon, are we, son?"

"The usual," Kieran replies. "I'll be heading over to Esme's in a bit, if that's cool."

"You're an adult now," George points out. "No need to ask permission to come and go as you please."

"I guess. But it's the polite thing to do." Kieran pauses his game, to look at his father. "I heard you talking to Gem downstairs. What was that about?"

"I gave her my diary," George answers. "But you'll be able to check it out, and so will Birdie."

"Oh, sick." Kieran reshuffles his body so that he sits up, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. "I've always been curious about what shit you've written in there."

"Well, you'll finally get to find out how messed up your good old dad has been since he was a teenager," George teases. "Still, I don't regret anything. Especially not meeting your father and having you and your sister. Maybe I'd have met Birdie sooner, but that's about it."

"You've done a lot for us. So has Dad," Kieran praises. "I don't think Gem and I tell you that enough."

"The ultimate reward of parenting is seeing your kids thrive," George assures him. "And you're all doing exactly that."

"I love you, Pops." Kieran stands up, to bring George into a hug.

George beams at his son's rare showing of raw affection. "I love you too, mate."

• • •

"How did Gem react to the diary?" Levi asks, later on in the evening. "Was she happy?"

"She was," George responds. "I knew it was time to pass it on. Who knows? Maybe one day, we'll have great grandkids who will read it. Maybe it'll go on for generations. Or, maybe, kids in the future generations will have zero interest in reading their great grandfather's woes written in a little book."

"I think it's lovely." Levi mindlessly grazes his fingers over George's buzz-cut shaven head; his subtle way of showing his love without the need for words. "It's been one hell of a lifetime, so far, hasn't it?"

"Tell me about it," George answers. "So much crammed into a few decades. It's been mad."

"But it's been a blast," Levi adds. "And I wouldn't do it with anyone else."

George's hand moves, to stroke his husband's wrist beside his head. "Me either. And now we're approaching retirement age, we'll have time for all sorts of new adventures; new memories to make. By ourselves, or with the kids if they want to tag along."

Levi smiles at the idea. "I can't wait. It all sounds wonderful."

George detects the warm ambience between the pair of them, using it to his advantage. "I love you, Levi."

With a slow, delicate kiss shared between the two of them, Levi returns the same affection. "I love you too, George."

• • •

Next one is the epilogue! Can't believe it's almost over. xx