Roy Clarke stood beneath the towering windows of St.Marys Hospital, his hand waving at the figure emerging from the delivery suite. The woman in his arms, swaddled in a soft pink blanket, glanced up at him with tired eyes.
Roy, weve got a girl3.5kg! Gillians voice crackled through the handset, bright with triumph.
He could barely hear her over the clamor of celebratory fathers spraying confetti, drawing oversized hearts on the pavement with chalk, and releasing a cascade of helium balloons into the gray London sky. Sleek black saloons gleamed beside queues of smiling relatives, all buzzing like a hive.
My girl, Im a father! Gillian, we were supposed to have a boy! he shouted, a hint of disbelief in his tone.
Silence stretched on the line, then Gillians voice softened, Maybe theres a mistake.
Roy turned away, weaving through the throng of elated dads who were chalking their love notes onto the cement and launching balloons that bobbed like bright fireflies. He had always pictured a sona future heir, a continuation of the Clarke line. While Gillian was pregnant, hed painted the picture in his mind: the two of them kicking a football in the back garden, a weekend spent at the lake hauling in a hefty catch, the mens banter over a cold pint, and the evening when the whole family gathered around the table to share the days stories, his sonhis prideby his side.
It had taken five long years for Gillian to conceive. Theyd traveled to the renowned Dr. Whitaker in Cambridge, a man whose name rang in the halls of British medicine, for every possible test. Finally, the news came.
Roy, its a girl! shed whispered over the phone.
From behind him came a familiar laugh. Roy, you hear that? Peter McAllister, his university mate, called, his voice thick with years.
Peter! What brings you back? Roy turned, surprised.
The mums in a spot of trouble, a little fever. Shes alone now; her husbands been gone five years. Ive just come to see her, Peter replied, his eyes scanning the bustling street.
Just left the maternity wardshes had a daughter, Roy said, the words spilling out like steam.
Congratulations! And why arent you smiling? Peters grin was a thin line.
Just, Roy began, but Peter cut him off, We all wait for boys, heirs. Its normal. I was once like youready to raise a son, only to be handed a daughter.
Is your family here? Roy asked, a flicker of curiosity in his voice.
Peters gaze fell to the pavement; he swallowed, then stared straight at Roy with a weight that seemed to hold the whole universes sorrow. Im alone. No family left. Roy, this isnt the right moment for meyour joy is overwhelming.
What happened? Roy pressed.
An accident I dont want to talk about it. Ive been on my own for a year. Im thinking of moving back with my mother, finding work, fixing up the flat. Peters voice trembled, each word a crack in the night.
They lingered at a nearby café, reminiscing about lecture hall debates, shared friends, and dreaming of futures that felt both distant and immediate. Roy handed Peter his number, promising he could call any hour.
The next morning, Roy raced to the hospital, a massive bouquet of Gillians favourite pink peonies clutched in his arms, a rope of balloons trailing behind him. He burst into the delivery room, breathless.
Gillian! he shouted, hearing her voice crackle through the phone.
Forgive me! Im over the moon about our longawaited daughter! Does she look like anyone? she asked, her tone trembling with joy.
Like you, Royso perfect! she replied.
Really? Yesterday I felt
Dont worry, I understand everything, Gillian cut in, her words a gentle balm.
Roy, shes healthy, calm, feeding and sleeping, even smiling in her sleep. Well be discharged soonyoull see for yourself.
Years slipped by. The daughter, Evelyn Clarke, grew into a bright, beautiful young woman, the pride of the family. Peternow Evelyns godfatherkept his promise, staying close through every milestone. Roy never forgot that rainy afternoons conversation; it opened his eyes and taught him to cherish every soul standing beside him.
The memory lingered, a quiet echo in the chambers of his heart, reminding him that lifes unexpected gifts often hold the deepest love.
