Words.
Mia smiled shyly and lowered her eyes so that she could barely see through her full lashes, as she looked up at Professor Roberts, apple cheeked with embarrassment.
“Ok thank you. I’ll see you at the coffee shop in ten minutes then to go through the cliff notes”.
She wasn’t totally sure if meeting her English professor outside of tutorials was the done thing, or even if she wanted to. But Mia took her education very seriously, as she had worked hard to get into university and the student loan alone weighed heavy on her mind every day. If that meant getting a bit more friendly with her tutor, so be it, but she knew where her boundaries were.
She walked in and ordered her own coffee, just to be clear that she was buying her own, and because she could not afford to be left with the bill for two expensive coffees. she made her way over to the table in the corner that he had suggested, and waited.
Patrick Roberts saw Mia before she him as he came in the door. As he had known when he suggested the table in the corner, her back would be facing the door, so it was an effort to turn and see people arrive. Not usually his favourite seat, truth be told, but he was super nervous about the meeting and didn’t want to be in a vulnerable position. This did seem a little unfair on her he guessed, but his discomfort of the situation took precedence over his concern for Mia at this moment, regardless of what she meant, or would come to mean to him.
He clocked that she already had a small coffee, but went over out of politeness to check if she needed anything else, which she politely declined, then he ordered his own. He noted that his hand was shaking as he picked up the cup the waitress brought for him, slightly spilling a little of his macchiato into the saucer underneath. Mia discretely pretended not to notice, he saw.
They made small talk for a while, as Patrick’s hands sweated into his cuffs, which were always a little long. His arms was short, and his Professor’s wage did not allow for tailoring. He needed to get to the point, so that the young woman who, it now struck him was extremely beautiful in a gentle quiet way, didn’t get the wrong idea. But he didn’t know how to raise the subject, now that they were here face to face, away from the safety and comfort of the aged university building walls, out in the real world. It had all seemed to make so much sense when he had run through it in his mind beforehand, assuming the words would come naturally. Good then that he had the locket to rely on.
He reached inside his work satchel to take out a silk scarf he had the piece of jewellery wrapped inside. Large but not blingy, antique brass so not valuable, but at the same time completely priceless, and not something that a 36 year old man would ever think to buy. He gingerly laid the scarf on the table directly in front of Mia, watching her face as he unwrapped it to reveal the locket inside. His eyes pricked painfully with tears, which he blinked back so that he could see hers widen, slowly, then fully, as realisation hit.
Mia looked into her Professor’s own eyes then back to the locket and back at him again, words caught in her throat, mouth flapping open and shut slightly like a fish. Her left hand, small and fragile travelled instinctively to her collarbone, where an identical locket hung awkwardly. oversized for her delicate bone structure. She unfastened it, and placed it in front of Patrick, opposite the the one already on the coffee shop table. Wordlessly, they both opened the lockets in front of them, already knowing what they would find: on the left a black and white photograph of a happy looking young couple in the mid 1980’s, with a baby in a pram. On the right, a photo of a baby in a pink hat and dress, posed more deliberately for the photograph.
They looked into each others eyes for several minutes without looking away, each feeling it was an eternity, but neither wanted it to end.
A crash and clattering of crockery smashing just behind Patrick brought them both back to reality; the red-faced waitress apologising to everyone around her, rushed off to get a dustpan to clean up the dropped items.
The spell was broken.
“Dad?” said Mia. The first of many words. “Are you… my Dad?!”
