Song: Somebody that I used to know - Mayday Parade
Roger's PoV
My morning with Lola was magical. I had spoken to her briefly, the night before, as I had tucked her into bed and read her a bedtime story, but this was the first time I had properly spent time with my daughter, the first time I had been able to bond with her. It was truly amazing, so much better that I had ever imagined all those cold lonely years without her.
We had started out at a small cafe across the street for breakfast, where we had both devoured a large stack of pancakes topped with nutella and strawberries, Lola excitedly babbling about her toy dolls with an open mouth filled with food, whilst I sipped at a strong coffee to wake myself up. After that, Lola had shown me around the local park, where we had fed bread to the ducks and I had spent hours pushing Lola on the swings and pushing the roundabout, the experience as enjoyable for me as it was for her; the sight of her smile was a memory I would forever cherish. When she had finally got bored of the playground, we had a stroll around the highstreet, Lola pointing out where Victoria worked and the shop they bought their food from.
The perfect morning.
The best part of it, undoubtedly, had been learning more about my daughter, more about her life. Lola talked endlessly, barely stopping for breathe, let alone to let another person get a word in, but whereas this may have irritated other adults eventually, I breathed it in, hanging on her every word. As stupid as it sounded, I wanted to know what her favourite barbie doll was, her favourite colour, about the dog that scared her when she was two but not now that she was three.
I wanted her to babble about her life, about how excited she was to start school, about how her mummy had already took her shopping in the city for her uniform. I wanted to know more about her and Victoria, how well they got on, how amazing a mother Victoria was. Every little word that Lola uttered, every small syllable she occasionally stuttered over, the way she struggled to pronounce her 'L's, meaning they all sounded like 'W', lived eternally in my memory; this entire day would.
I couldn't lie and say that some of didn't make me sad, waves of distress washing over me at the thought of all the stuff I had missed, how, if I had been around from the start, I would have already known all this stuff, instead of having to hear it for the first time in the park. It made me sad that John, Lola's beloved "Uncwe Deaky", knew all this stuff, and I didn't. Because he never told me.
He had been in her life for as long as she could remember. He had been at every birthday party, watched her blow out every candle on every cake, brought her a gift every year. She got a special card for him every year at Christmas, spent every new year counting down until the fireworks with him and Victoria. He spent two weeks staying with them every summer, and took Lola on countless adventures. The first time she swam with arm bands, the first time she rode a bike, the first time she skimmed a rock, Uncle Deaky had been there, teaching her how to do it, whilst Victoria held the camcorder, catching a moment they both already had in their memories anyway, on film.
They probably laughed about that later, the pair of them, joking about how Roger Taylor - Lola's real father, not John Deacon - would only ever be able to see that moment on their precious tape, if they ever decided to let him.
But sure, let me still be painted as the bad guy in this story.
Deaky had been an important part of Victoria's life all these years too, from what Lola had said. Uncle Deaky was the only man who had ever made Victoria smile in front of Lola, apparently. He bought her a Christmas present every year too; he counted down to new years with her too; he had been with her, by her side, constantly, for three years whilst I rotted in my own self-pity.
