Page 79 of The Vintage Dress Shop in Primrose Hill
‘It’s a special occasion, Soph. I wanted to make sure that we celebrated it,’ Johnno croaked. They were practically the same height and, when she drew back to get a good look at him, she could see the tears running down his cheeks. ‘I’m such an old sook.’
‘I didn’t realise this would mean so much to you,’ she said, going in for another hug. ‘You’ve lived outside Australia twice as long as you were ever there.’
‘It’s stirred up a lot of stuff,’ Johnno said in the same rusty voice and, when Sophy pulled free from this second hug, she saw that he was clutching a small Australian flag, also wearing a t-shirt with the Australian flag on it; and, third time was the charm, he also had a carrier bag bearing the national flag.
‘I feel underdressed,’ she said, nudging Johnno to tease a smile out of him. ‘Shall we head back to the shop?’
‘I thought… there’s a little park, nearer to the river. It’s a nice day. Shall we take a moment?’ Johnno was talking in disjointed sentences and seemed so unsure of himself that Sophy couldn’t help but be a bit worried.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Never better,’ Johnno assured her, but it lacked ninety- five per cent of his usual swagger.
They crossed over the Strand and walked towards Victoria Embankment Gardens, the River Thames glinting in the far distance. Because it was early, not even eleven o’clock, the park was still quite empty, just the occasional cluster of tourists walking through.
They found a bench to sit on, shaded by a canopy of trees, and, after Sophy had reapplied her SPF 50, Johnno handed her the carrier bag.
‘Happy Become An Australian Day,’ he said.
Technically, Sophy was half Australian and half British, but it seemed churlish to point that out. She peered into the bag and pulled out her very own t-shirt adorned with the flag.
‘You’re going to make me wear this right now, aren’t you?’ she asked and Johnno nodded happily as she pulled it on over her dress. It was a snug fit but it was the thought that counted. ‘Now, what else is in here?’
There was a jar of Vegemite that Sophy would not be eating, because she didn’t like Marmite either, but there was also something called a TimTam, a chocolate biscuit a bit like a Penguin, that she would verydefinitely be scarfing, along with a bar of Cadbury’s Caramilk and a strawberry Freddo.
‘Those Freddos are like the Australian national dish,’ Johnno said, as Sophy tore open the wrapper. ‘And that pawpaw cream is a miracle worker. Sort you out if any nasties bites you.’
‘Even snakes?’ Sophy asked as she squeezed a little of the balm onto the tip of her finger.
‘Maybe not a snakebite but everything else,’ Johnno insisted. ‘OK, maybe not a spider bite either but it’s really good on mozzie bites.’
There was a bottle opener in the shape of a crocodile and a passport holder with the Australian flag on it and Sophy could hardly keep exclaiming in delight past the lump in her throat, because this assorted collection of goods from the Australian Shop in Covent Garden was Johnno forging a connection with her. A connection that they’d never really had before.
There was just one last thing left in the bag. A buff-coloured A4 envelope.
‘What’s in here?’ Sophy wondered aloud and, next to her, she felt Johnno go quite still, so it was with some trepidation that she opened the envelope and pulled out a plastic wallet with the Qantas logo on it.
She could hear the blood rushing in her head, fingers turned to fat sausages as she opened the wallet to find… ‘You haven’t!’ She turned to Johnno, the tears suddenly pouring down her face a perfect match for his own waterworks. ‘You didn’t!’
‘Yeah, I did, Soph,’ Johnno said as she pulled out a plane ticket. ‘An open-ended return, so if you really hate it you don’t have to stay.’
‘But that’s too expensive and these are business class…’ Sophy looked at the price printed on the ticket and gasped. ‘It’s too much. I can’t—’
‘Yeah, you can,’ Johnno said forcefully, pushing her hand away as she tried to thrust the tickets at him. ‘I’ve been a crap dad, Soph, I do know that.’
‘You haven’t,’ Sophy insisted, but it was true and they both knew it. Still, Sophy had had thirty years to get used to Johnno’s benign neglect. She didn’t take it personally. It was just how he was.
‘I wasn’t there when I should have been, not because I didn’t love you,’ Johnno said, taking Sophy’s hand and squeezing it. ‘You know what I’m like, full of good intentions but I never manage to act on them.’
‘But I do love you too, I hope you know that,’ Sophy said, her voice so thick with tears she was amazed that she could get the words out. ‘Even when I’m really mad at you.’
‘And this…’ Johnno flicked the edge of the tickets. ‘Well, it’s to make up for all the birthdays and Christmases I missed.’
‘You didn’t missallof them.’
‘I missed enough,’ Johnno said, bracing himself as Sophy flung herself into his arms again and cried hard enough to make the shoulder of his t-shirt soggy. ‘Come on now, Soph. You can’t be crying all the time when you’re in Oz. Folks will think you’re a whinging Pom.’
‘I am such a whinging Pom,’ Sophy mumbled, because she might be half Australian but she certainly didn’t have much pioneering spirit. She levered herself off Johnno and clasped the tickets to her chest. ‘Thank you for these.’
