Perfectly Ordinary People(121)

‘So the first thing I’d like to say is that I’m incredibly relieved someone finally told you,’ he said, addressing Dad. ‘It’s what Ethel and I wanted all along, but the others didn’t agree. So I just wanted you to know that.’

Dad frowned at this and fiddled with his cutlery for a moment before saying, ‘I’m sorry, but . . . When you say it’s what you wanted, it sounds . . . It’s just that . . . you didn’t really know me, did you?’

Igor laughed at this. ‘Of course I knew you!’ he said. ‘I saw you plenty of times, either in the shop or over at your father’s place. And he talked about you all the time. I followed every step of your life, albeit from a respectable distance.’

‘Really?’ Dad said. ‘I don’t really remember seeing you much. I’m sorry.’

Igor shrugged sadly and said, ‘Memory can be strange.’ Once he had struggled out of his jacket, he turned to me and went on, ‘I met you once, too. But you were only about this big.’ He raised his hands to indicate a baby-sized package.

‘We spoke at Grandma Genny’s funeral, too,’ I reminded him. Then, trying to lighten the tone of the conversation, I added, ‘I’m afraid I don’t remember that other time, though.’

‘Well, your father left you both with Chris for the afternoon, and he rushed you down to the shop so that I could meet you.’

Dad nodded thoughtfully. ‘I vaguely remember that,’ he said. ‘We generally left you with Mavaughn, but one time I had to leave you with Dad. I don’t remember why, but your mother was terrified he’d drop you or lose one of you or something. You must have only been about nine months old.’

‘Well, he didn’t drop you,’ Igor said, smiling at me warmly. ‘He sprinted down to your Uncle Igor’s shop, and while Jake played with a spinning top, we smothered you in kisses. You giggled every time we kissed your tummy. You loved that.’

‘Still do,’ I joked, to ease my embarrassment.

‘He was incredibly proud of you. He was incredibly proud of all of you.’

‘If you say so,’ Dad said.

There was a lull in the conversation just then, and luckily the waiter came to break the silence.

Once he’d handed out drinks and left, I asked Igor if he thought the tapes gave an accurate rendition of Grandma Genny’s life.

‘I do, actually,’ he said. ‘Obviously there are some dates and things I might quibble over. After all, it was a long time ago. But yes, everything she said ties up pretty well with the bits I remember and the stories other people told me. When you read it in one go, it’s quite an extraordinary oeuvre.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘It is.’

Another silence fell upon us, during which we all sipped our drinks.

‘So, Dad,’ I prompted when the void got to be too much for me. ‘I’m sure you’ve got some things you want to ask Uncle Igor, haven’t you?’

‘Me?’ Dad said, looking like a rabbit in the headlights. ‘Um, I’m not sure. Have I?’

‘It’s OK,’ Igor said, laying his hands placidly on top of each other. ‘It will come. There’s no need to force anything, Ruth.’

Dad realigned his knife and fork before turning a fake smile on us both. ‘It’s hard,’ he said, finally, ‘because there’s so much detail in the tapes, isn’t there? So it’s hard to think what to ask.’

‘Yes,’ Igor agreed. ‘Yes, the tapes are incredibly detailed about your parents’ lives, especially when they were younger. And about your origins too, of course. But not so much about Chris and me. So perhaps you have some questions about that?’

‘Um, I think I’m OK,’ Dad said, and I distinctly saw him blush. And then he stood and, making excuses, vanished to the loo.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, once he’d gone. ‘He’s more uptight about this than I thought.’

‘Yes,’ Igor said. ‘Yes, I can see that. But that’s OK. I’m sure it’s a lot to take in.’

‘So how long did you live with Grandpa?’ I asked, consciously trying to demonstrate that at least I wasn’t fazed by my grandfather’s sexuality.

‘We were more or less a couple from ’61, albeit a very discreet one. But we only really lived together once we moved here,’ Igor said. ‘We didn’t get as long as we’d hoped, but, you know, it was lovely while it lasted.’

‘That’s sad,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t get longer.’

‘It is what it is.’

‘And Ethel and Genny, they were together from when they were, what, fourteen?’

‘Oh God, those two, honey!’ Igor said, and for the first time he sounded vaguely camp. ‘They were incredible.’

Dad returned at that moment, clearing his throat as if to warn us of his arrival. I sensed he wanted to interrupt our conversation but instead I decided to forge on. ‘One thing I never really understood from the tapes was the relationship between the four of you,’ I said, then, to Dad, ‘We were just chatting about how long they were all together.’

‘Sure,’ Dad said, reaching for the menu.

‘Between the four of us?’ Igor said. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’