Dad, please dont go into school today, alright?
Why, Poppy? Youre getting a prize; I wanted to see it.
No, really. Everyone kids, parents and you
And me?
Youll be all dusty, love, straight from work. Theyll have a laugh
He froze, holding a wilted wildflower hed plucked on the road.
Youre right, sweetheart, he said softly. I was in a rush, didnt even manage a change of clothes. Didnt want to be late.
Just dont go! she shouted. Ill be mortified!
He gave a tiny nod and a faint smile.
Fine, Poppy. I wont be there.
He turned and walked off, gripping that single flower tightly.
They lived in a little clay cottage hed built himself in the Cotswolds. Her mother left when Poppy was five. He toiled from dawn till dusk out in the cold, under rain just to buy her a book, a pair of boots, a pint of milk.
Dad, we dont even have a fridge!
Thats right, love. The pantry on the landing keeps things cool enough, he replied, grinning.
Years slipped by. Poppy excelled at school, won competitions, earned a spot at Oxford. He gave her everything he owned.
Here, love, a bit of money for a flat.
But youll have nothing left!
Ill still have the main thing pride in you.
Ill come back, I promise, and take you home!
He just waved his hand.
No need, dear. Im used to this garden, my chickens and the quiet.
Time kept ticking. He called often, but her replies grew rarer.
Dad, Im busy, Ill ring you later.
Alright, darling. Just dont go hungry.
One afternoon he decided to turn up unannounced, bringing a bag of homecooked grub cabbage rolls, crusty loaf, an apple tart. In the hotel lobby the concierge stopped him.
Looking for anyone, sir?
My daughter, Poppy Georgina.
Ah, the lady from the Royal Diamond Gala? Shes at the event, big night. Better leave the parcel with us.
No, I just want to see her, even for a minute.
He made his way to the charity soirée. She stood by the stage, elegant and confident, surrounded by wellknown faces. He shuffled forward, nervous.
Poppy its me, your father.
She spun around, eyes wide.
Dad?! What are you doing here?!
Brought you a bit of home cooking
Please, go away! This is a private function!
The bag slipped, tins clattered at his feet. He crouched to pick them up and whispered,
Im sorry I didnt mean to embarrass you.
He slipped out quietly. A cleaning lady came over, helped gather the things.
Dont be sad, sir. Kids do come back just sometimes a tad too late.
He managed a sad smile.
Yes, when nobodys waiting any more.
Years later, Poppy married, built a career, always said her parents werent around. Then a small town in Devon invited her charity group to a Simple Folk, Big Hearts evening. An elderly man stepped onto the stage. His hands were rough, his gaze gentle.
My names George Georgiou. Im no great man, but I know what love feels like. I raised my daughter on my own. Shes gone far, and I pray for her every day. If she could hear me now, Id tell her I love her, even if shes forgotten me.
A hush fell over the hall. Poppy rose, hand over her mouth.
Dad
She rushed onto the stage, fell into his arms.
Forgive me! Im sorry I was ashamed of you!
He held her close and whispered,
Darling I forgave you ages ago. Ive just been waiting.
Their story spread across the country. Soon after, Poppy set up the Fathers Heart foundation for orphaned children and lonely elders. At the inaugural gala, tears glistening, she said,
The man who taught me every good thing never had formal schooling, but he gave me the greatest lesson: true love never feels ashamed.
She took his hand.
Dad, today youre our guest of honour.
The audience rose. He smiled through his tears.
You know, love the pain fades, but the love never does.
