Page 86 of A Castle in the Sky: Fern & Connor
Connor swallowed and began to read aloud.
My son,
This is the last letter I will write you.
It has been eight years since I last saw you, and I know you must hate me. I was not there much when you were growing up, and it must have seemed like I didn't want you anymore. You must be sixteen now. Taller than me, maybe. Maybe looking a bit like me, maybe not. I hope you are well. I hope you have friends. I hope you are happy.
Connor's words faltered, and Fern laced her fingers through his.
As you know, I worked as the ground staff with the Royal Air Force. It wasn't glamorous, but it was honest work. I was proud of it. I missed your birthdays, school plays, small things that matter more than a man realises at the time. I was away too long, too often. Your mother was against travelling with me. She did not like the life on the base, and I felt I couldn't offer you both the luxuries she was used to. I wish I had insisted. She wouldn't have been able to keep me from my son if I had tried harder to keep you by my side. I loved her, but she only wanted a placeholder for the one she actually loved. When I came home early one week to surprise your mother, I found her with our neighbour.
Connor stiffened, though he knew this was what had happened.
Fern stroked the back of his hand. "Keep going."
She didn't care that she broke my heart. Told me he meant everything to her. That I was not worth a single hair on his head. Herwords were burnt into my brain. And I... I beat him to a pulp because I couldn't do anything else. I felt like less of a man. I just broke.
Kayla had all the money. She had connections—people who liked her, people who owed her. He supported her, too. She used them all to make me look like an unreliable father. Incompetent. A danger to myself and others. I nearly lost my job. I lost you.
She told me it was best for you not to have a father who was always vanishing. She said a 'weekend dad' would confuse you. She said you didn't even ask for me anymore… that you didn't need a father. I believed her. I thought a child needed his mother.
Connor closed his eyes, jaw clenched.
"She lied to both of you," Fern whispered.
I tried, son. I fought for you at first. But between my shifts, the hearings, and her stories... I lost ground. I lost confidence. I thought maybe she was right. That maybe you were better off without a father who was less.
But it does not mean I didn't want you. It does not mean I didn't love you.
It means I failed. And I am sorry. I am so damn sorry I did not fight harder.
Connor's voice fractured as he read the last few words. Fern's eyes were already wet.
If you ever want to find me, I won't make it hard. I work at RAF St. Athan now, still on the ground crew. Ask for Staff Sergeant Leon Ashbourne. They'll point you my way. Here is my phone number if you are ready to talk… or if you ever need me for anything.
But if you don't come... I'll understand.
Be better than me. Be braver. Be the father I should have been.
—Dad
Connor folded the letter gently, as though it might fall apart.
"For more than twenty years," he said hoarsely, "I thought he didn't want me. I believed he just walked out."
Fern just put her arms around him and hugged him. She could guess his thoughts. He wished he had read the letter sooner.
After a long, trembling breath, he looked at her. "What do I do?"
Fern smiled softly. "What you always tell Coral to do when she's scared."
Connor let out a fragile laugh. "Take the first step."
"Exactly."
He nodded, wiped his eyes, and reached for his phone. His hands shook as he typed.
He typed in the number and named it 'Leon Ashbourne'. Then he deleted it and renamed it 'Dad'.
