Our Father Who Are Out There...Somewhere Read Online Free Page B

over the top of it. Lily’s hands start to shake. She slides off the crepe paper and reads the gold lettering on the front, ‘Wedding Album’. She’d often wondered whether her parents were married. She opens the first page:
     
    In celebration of the marriage of David Winterbottom
    and Miss Pamela Lillian Tattersall
    16th May 1965
    At the Church of our Virgin Mary, Clitheroe
     
    Lily holds her breath and turns over the page, ready for her first glimpse of her father.
    But the first picture is of the bride, and Lily’s first thought is that Aunt Edie’s given her the wrong wedding album. That wasn’t her mother. Confused, Lily turns back to the front page. Her father’s name was David Winterbottom. She only knew that because she’d ransacked the house eight or so years ago, when her mother had been admitted to hospital for a few days. Lily had found her birth certificate hidden in an old teapot. Remembering a news item she’d seen, about a child whose estranged father had abducted him from school, she’d stashed the birth certificate inside the lining of her school bag  just in case. Pathetic really.
    Lily brings her mind back to the page in front of her. Her mum’s name was Pamela. Lily had long suspected Appleyard was neither her maiden, nor her married name. Lily turns the page again. The photograph is of a slim, beautiful bride with long blonde hair, laughing as she runs along a stone path. Slim, like Marilyn Monroe slim. Six men line the way, holding umbrellas up to protect her from the pouring rain. She’s holding her skirts up  as the rain bounces on the ground around her. The men are smiling at her, admiring her verve. The rain is torrential; Lily can almost make out the individual drops. She squints at the picture again. The woman laughs back at her, attractive, happy and slim.
    Lily doesn’t recognise any of the men holding the umbrellas. Could one be her father? It’s not even important at this moment. The thought strikes Lily that she never saw her mother laugh. A wave of jealousy sweeps through her body, someone else could make her laugh. She wants to know this woman in the picture. For the first time since her mother died she feels a sense of loss.
    She turns the page and gets her first sighting of the bride and groom. Hands clasped together, gazing into each other’s eyes, grinning inanely. Her mum appears enraptured, lost in love, alive. Her father is tall and slender, and rock star handsome.
    She wants to close the book, but like a scab that shouldn’t be picked, she can’t leave it alone. They look so young and hopeful. All Lily’s life she’s been longing to know her father. It had never once occurred to her that she didn’t know her mother either.
    The bride is wearing a sleek satin dress, no frills or ruffles, beautifully skimmed across the front to emphasize her tucked in waist. Lily compares her to the mental image she has of her mother, fat hanging off her legs like saddlebags. The woman in the photo has long blonde hair scooped up on the top of her head, the occasional strand curling down past her neck. The groom wears black rimmed spectacles and a dark suit. His hair is slightly spiked. Lily wonders what it would have been like to have had these two as parents.
    In the next picture are two people she does recognise. Her grandparents standing either side of the bride and groom. Lily’s father is staring straight at the camera, and Lily notices his deep brown eyes, same as her own. Granny is smiling, with David’s arm loosely around her shoulders. Lily’s grandfather stands straight-backed, not touching his daughter. Lily senses that his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
    Another photograph shows the groom, her father, with his ushers. She doesn’t recognise any of them. Frustrated, she turns through the pages until she comes to a guest list at the back. Lily’s eyes flick down the list. The wedding was overrun by Winterbottoms.
    The gas fire is on full, despite the autumn