by Ted Tayler
Lydia had never held a grudge against either of her birth parents. After meeting Eleanor and realising that it was enough to be friends, she redoubled her efforts to find her father. Lydia wanted to show Chidozie that there was nothing to forgive. They couldn’t have a true father and daughter relationship after such an extended period. Still, she hoped there would be the possibility of developing a similar understanding as that which now existed between her and Eleanor.
Most of all, this weekend was for closure. Lydia didn’t want to look back in years to come and regret not taking this final step. Sleep claimed her at last, and when Alex woke her, they were only minutes from the port.
“Excited?” he asked.
“Nervous,” she’d replied.
“You needn’t worry whether you inherited your father’s sea legs,” said Alex.
“I had a lot on my mind,” said Lydia, “before I dropped off to sleep. I know one thing, I’m starving. It’s ages since we had a bite to eat.”
Alex drove the car on the last leg of the journey. He’d ridden his motorcycle on holidays abroad, so Lydia was happy to let him cope with the traffic, and driving on the right.
“I thought the M25 was bad,” she groaned,” this is a nightmare.”
“We can turn off the main drag and find a place to eat,” said Alex. “It’s always this busy, but you’ll be in a better mood once you’ve had your first cup of coffee and bacon and apple pancakes.”
Alex was right, as usual. They both felt more human by the time they arrived in Bierstraat and parked near the hotel.
“What time do you think our room will be ready?” asked Lydia.
“Why, what did you have in mind?” asked Alex.
Lydia thumped his arm.
“I was wondering whether we could drop off our bags and take a walk over to the Maritime Museum. I want to check out the area, walk past the bar first, before venturing inside. What time does the ‘Lady Eleanor’ open?”
“Ten o’clock,” said Alex, “according to the information I found online. The bar closes at one in the morning.”
“That’s a long day,” said Lydia. “Chi-Chi couldn’t possibly cover the whole day. I wonder which half of the day he works?”
“If we’re right in our assumption that he chose the bar’s location because of its proximity to the Museum, then he’ll be there in an hour. You will see him raising the shutters.”
“What do you think we should do first?” asked Lydia.
“You wait in the car. I’ll go across to the hotel and check on the room.”
Lydia sat and waited.
She had done her homework, too, just like her father. Rotterdam has evolved from a down-at-heel port city into one of Europe’s favourite getaways.
Lydia smiled as she saw Alex trotting back to the car. She’d seen his face when he looked at the bill in the café earlier. Some things were far more expensive here than back in the UK. Yet, the online reviews she had read thought Rotterdam offered value for money. It certainly had plenty of museums and galleries to visit, only a ten-minute walk from where she sat if the weather was poor. They didn’t have to worry on that score today.
“Three o’clock,” said Alex, “but they have agreed to store our bags for us. Let’s take advantage of that and then return to get checked in this afternoon.”
Ten minutes later, they were on their way.
CHAPTER 2
“There,” cried Lydia, grabbing Alex by the arm. “Can you see anyone inside?”
Alex knew the feeling would return in his arm in time.
They had turned the corner to enter the street where Chidozie had his bar. The ‘Lady Eleanor’ was on a narrow side street off Wijnhaven. Parked bicycles littered the pavement on either side of the bar. A loading bay for two vehicles directly in front of the modern, bright-looking bar was empty at present.
Alex and Lydia strolled along the pavement on the opposite side of the street. Three four-seater stained wooden benches sat outside the large plate-glass window. The interior blazed with light. The red, white, and black colour scheme was nothing like Lydia's image in her head since she learned that Chidozie was living and working here.
“It looks so smart and clean,” said Lydia.
“What did you expect,” said Alex, “ye olde Smuggler’s Tavern? Look around us. The entire district has that sleek, industrial-chic look. It’s only the bikes that make the place untidy.”
“I can’t see him inside,” said Lydia. “Not that I know what he looks like. Perhaps he’s upstairs in the flat, looking at us.”
Lydia stood back from the pavement's edge and peered up at the windows on the upper floors. She saw nothing.
“It’s still early,” said Alex. “Let’s take a tour around the Museum Park and the other attractions. We can come back around lunchtime.”
“I downloaded a suggested route onto my phone before we left Chippenham,” said Lydia. “We can reach Central Station in ten minutes. It’s one of the coolest stations in Europe, and it’s supposed to set the artistic mood for our day. I’ll sit and admire the beautiful architecture while you grab us a coffee.”
“You’ve got it worked out, haven’t you,” said Alex.
“If only,” said Lydia. “I’m so nervous now. I can’t remember a thing I wanted to ask him or say to him. What if he doesn’t even speak to me? What if we picked the only weekend in the year when he’s flown away on holiday?”
“We’ll follow the route on your phone and take your mind off your Dad by seeing the sights this city offers.”
The station was everything Lydia hoped it would be, and the coffee was delicious.
“The next place on this quick tour is one I’m dying to see,” she said as they left the station.
Alex walked beside her, and as they turned the corner, he had to admit it impressed him.
“Wow! A yellow pedestrian bridge connecting the two sides of the city,”
After exploring the Luchtsingel pedestrian bridge, they returned to the roundabout and walked south.
“This is a busy district,” said Alex, taking in the surrounding sights. “With cafes, restaurants, and shopping malls on both sides of the street. I love the canal here.”
“If we follow these canals, we’ll soon return to Leuvehaven and our hotel. The Maritime Museum is just over there. We ought to visit it. I wondered whether it played a part in the location for the bar.”
One look at the variety of exhibits on offer on the notice boards outside the Museum meant that they wouldn't do it justice unless they spent several hours inside.
“Perhaps we should add it to our list of things to do tomorrow?” asked Lydia. “We might have a free day if things don’t go to plan.”
“Don’t give up just yet,” said Alex. “Who’s that man explaining something to a group of visitors waiting outside over there?”
Lydia spun around. Through the crowds, she spotted a tall, handsome man. Lydia tried to remain calm as she studied the man’s face, hair, and eyes. The way he stood looked familiar, and he had flecks of grey at his temples. The man could be in his late forties or early fifties. His eyes shone as he spoke to the visitors. The subject was clearly something he enjoyed. One child in the group asked a question or passed a comment. The man threw back his head and laughed. The smile that followed was just how Eleanor described it.
Lydia studied the man’s clothes. She was convinced this was Chidozie Barre. The years he’d spent at sea had kept him fit. Chidozie was still lean and muscular. His quarter-zip navy blue sailor’s sweater and navy slacks oozed class. Lydia smiled. Forget Idris Elba as James Bond. Chidozie Barre would slip into the role like a hand into a glove.
As she daydreamed of her father starring on the big screen, he looked over the heads of the visitor group and stared straight at her.
“There’s nothing for it, Lydia,” said Alex. “You have to walk across and talk to him. He looks as if he’s seen a ghost.”
Lydia made her way through the queuing tour
ists; followed by Alex.
“Je gezicht komt bekend voor,” said the man.
“I’m afraid I don’t speak Dutch,” said Lydia.
“Your face looks familiar. I recognise your accent too. You are from Scotland.”
“I am. My mother was born in Edinburgh, so was I.”
Alex stepped forward and steadied a shaky Chidozie Barre as realisation dawned.
“We should find a café,” said Alex. “You need to sit. You’ve had a shock.”
Chidozie pointed behind Alex but didn’t speak. He continued to stare at the beautiful coffee-coloured face of the girl with the shock of red hair. Her voice had just transported him back twenty-six years to a time he would never forget.
When Chidozie and Lydia had sat down, Alex went inside the café to order drinks.
“Is that your husband?”
“Not yet,” said Lydia, “we’re work colleagues back in England.”
“I don’t understand how you came to be here today. What are you called?”
“The family that adopted me named me Lydia,”
“The beautiful one,” said Chidozie. “They chose well.”
“I’ve searched for you for several years,” said Lydia. “As soon as we learned that you opened a bar and called it the ‘Lady Eleanor’, I knew I should come to meet you.”
“Why didn’t I know of you? Why did Eleanor not look for me?”
Lydia explained the eighteen-year-old Eleanor Scott faced problems because of her family’s reaction after learning that she was pregnant. They refused to take in a baby fathered by a black man, Eleanor didn’t know the ship's name and couldn’t support a baby alone. She gave her baby up for adoption.
“We left the port of Leith twenty-four hours after the last time I saw Eleanor,” said Chidozie. “I was at sea for five months before I took the presents I’d bought in her shop to my mother back home in Yaba. I thought of Eleanor every day and told my mother that I’d met a beautiful Scottish girl. She said that the memory of my first love would always stay with me. Because I had chosen a life at sea, there would be other girls, in other ports, but in Yaba there were girls from families that my parents knew who would be more suitable for marriage.”
“Did you marry a local girl?” asked Lydia.
Chidozie shook his head.
“I never married. I was the youngest in the family, and my three older sisters married and gave my parents a dozen grandchildren between them. Although my father wished for a son to carry on the family name, he never pressured me into an arranged marriage. Both my parents are dead now. I haven’t returned to Nigeria since I attended their burials.”
“Why didn’t you return to Scotland to find Eleanor if she was the only one for you?” asked Lydia.
“I’ve asked myself that question many times,” sighed Chidozie. “We never spoke of love in the two days we spent time together. There was no understanding that after we made love in the park that night that it was a commitment to a lasting relationship. It was just a moment we shared. It felt inevitable we’d never meet again. How could we? It was unlikely my ship would return to Edinburgh for a year, maybe more. As it was, circumstances with the shipping company I worked for meant that we only landed at a British port on two more occasions, years after we first met. America, Asia, and Africa were places I visited far more than in Europe. As the years passed, I accepted that a girl as pretty as Eleanor would have found someone else. What a fool I would look if I flew to Scotland and visited the gift shop with a bunch of red roses to learn that she had left ages ago to get married. How on earth did you ever find me, Lydia?”
Lydia explained how she had traced her birth mother and that she and Eleanor were friends.
“I spent so many years with the Logans that they will always be my Mum and Dad. As I’ve got to know Eleanor, my birth mother, I asked her to tell me about my father. She told me you were a merchant sailor, from Nigeria, and that your friends called you Chi-Chi. We traced the details of the reefer you worked on through maritime records in London. Alex and I then followed your career at sea right through to the time of the shipwreck.”
“The typhoon was too powerful,” said Chidozie. “I’d never experienced such winds. We didn’t stand a chance. The Coast Guard was so far away that I had given up any hopes of rescue. The authorities in Manila believed that everyone perished. I prayed that night as I’d never prayed before. Then a freighter battled its way through treacherous seas to reach us. They had seen the final distress signal that I sent, and although they were searching for a needle in a haystack, they arrived just as we were preparing to face death. They plucked twelve of us from the waves as we clung to the two life rafts we had roped together.”
“We learned from your former shipping company that after that dreadful ordeal you never went to sea again,” said Alex.
“The freighter that rescued us carried us into the port of Da Nang,” said Chidozie. “I went with my colleagues to the hospital to see they were getting the care they needed. Exhausted, but uninjured, I flew as far away from the South China Seas as possible to spend a month in Dubai, recuperating. Then, I thought I’d try my luck in America.”
“That’s when we picked up the trail again,” said Lydia, “after a lifetime at sea, and reaching the senior position of First Mate, you suddenly became an expert cocktail maker. Where did that talent come from?”
Chidozie threw his head back and laughed again.
“I needed the money to live,” said Chidozie, “I don’t drink alcohol, but mixing drinks to a recipe isn’t rocket science. I learned fast, and because I stayed sober, I avoided the muggers and racists that I bumped into when I walked home to my apartment. The move to Hamburg came at the right time. The same problems existed, but life was more relaxed than in New York. When you’re a single man, if you don’t drink, or gamble, then it’s possible to save for the chance to afford your own business. I kept my eye on properties in Hamburg and here in Rotterdam. When the right place became available, I made an offer, and moved here, changing the bar's name from ‘The Hideaway’ to ‘Lady Eleanor’. It was the right choice because it helped you find me. I have a daughter now. It feels strange, but I love it.”
“We walked by the bar earlier this morning,” said Alex. “I knew it was you as soon as I spotted you outside the Museum. Do you work there?”
“I volunteer my time,” said Chidozie. “It’s the least I can do. The sea is still important to me, despite the way my career ended. I’m here whenever they need me from eleven o’clock until three. I work in my bar in the evenings. How long are you staying in Rotterdam?”
“Our ferry leaves the Hook tomorrow evening,” said Lydia.
“Where are you staying tonight?”
“At one of the floating hotels a few minutes’ walk from here,” said Alex. “Check-in is at three. We’re going to have lunch first and then spend an hour resting up at the hotel. Neither of us slept much on the ferry last night.”
“Will you come to the ‘Lady Eleanor’ this evening?” asked Chidozie.
“Of course,” said Lydia.
“I’ll get a staff member to cover for me later. I will take you to dinner tonight. On this trip, there won’t be another opportunity.”
“That would be great,” said Lydia.
“I have questions to ask, Lydia,” said Chidozie. “but I should get back to the Maritime Museum. This is strange and new to me. What do we do now? Shake hands or hug?”
Lydia hugged Chidozie. The two men shook hands.
“What is your name?” asked Chidozie.
“Alex Hardy, sir,” said Alex. “Detective Sergeant Alex Hardy. Pleased to meet you at last.”
“Until tonight then, Lydia,” said Chidozie Barre.
“I was Lydia Logan until I met Eleanor and learned my birth father’s name,” said Lydia. “When I travelled south from Scotland to work with the same team as Alex, I made it official. I’m Lydia Logan Barre now.”
“That’s wonderful,” smiled C
hidozie, “even your name is beautiful.”
With a wave, her father eased his way through the queue of customers waiting to enter the Museum and started back to work. Lydia and Alex set off on a ten-minute walk that would bring them to the Market Hall.
“The building is enormous,” said Alex, “and another must-see place in Rotterdam. We’ll find food stalls, restaurants, and shops galore. There’s bound to be somewhere that we can get lunch. In the Square in front of the Market Hall are the yellow Cube Houses that are an icon of Rotterdam architecture.”
“I was thinking of those yellow houses earlier, while you were in the hotel,” said Lydia. “They’re on my list of things to visit. Perhaps we can look inside one after we’ve eaten?”
“Breakfast seems a long time ago,” said Alex, “and all this walking is telling on my leg.
“We’ve got until three o’clock, Alex,” said Lydia, linking her arm through his. “Lean on me, and we’ll cross the Erasmus Bridge and admire the Mass River and the Rotterdam skyline as we eat our meal.”
Ninety minutes later, the couple was ready to tackle the next stage of their tour of the best attractions. Lydia wanted to see as much of her father’s home town as possible this weekend, but she didn’t want Alex to get overtired.
“Let’s save our legs for a while,” she said. “we can take a water taxi to get us around in comfort. That will be the best way to fill the final ninety minutes before check-in at the hotel.”
They returned to the floating hotel and were soon stowing their gear in their room.
“What now?” asked Alex.
“I’m shattered,” said Lydia. “Set the alarm on your phone for six-thirty. Last one asleep is a sissy.”
Alex was first to wake and slipped out of bed and into the shower. Lydia joined him minutes later.
