“Informing Helen about the incident was arguably the toughest challenge I’ve faced. The knowledge that she was expecting Alistair’s child made it even more complicated. My concern for her was immense, and I wished to maintain our communication, but as often happens, time slipped away. Eventually, we lost contact, and it felt as if she preferred to keep her matters to herself. I could have handled that better.”

“It’s always a struggle. We hesitate to intrude, so we hold back, only to realize that we’ve missed our chance. But look at how fate works! Here I am, speaking with you, all thanks to a photograph and a visit from Helen’s daughter. Is this serendipity?”

“Now, it seems we’ve all intertwined like a beautiful pattern of polygons released into the cosmos. How incredible is that! I’m overflowing with excitement.”

“Alistair’s family was an amazing group—full of life, intelligent, and a lot of fun. You don’t recall him?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“We shared a deep friendship. Their lives shattered when the news broke. I was responsible for retrieving his belongings from the police. There wasn’t much—just his clothes, some coins, and his wallet.”

“That’s what happens when you embrace a life of simplicity!”

“Oh, and I just remembered. He had a small recorder in his pocket. I kept it. I’m not sure why; it was damaged, and I thought I might get it fixed, but life got in the way. The funeral took over, and I suppose I should have returned it, but it slipped my mind…”

“Didn’t the police think to check it?”

“Well, it was pretty battered. They probably deemed it unimportant. This was a while back.”

“Still, even back then, their job was to overlook nothing… to turn every stone. Could I take a look at it? I have a retired friend, Jim Murray, who was an electronics engineer. He might be able to help. I can’t guarantee anything, but it’s worth a shot.”

“To repair it?”

“Perhaps not, but Jim could download any recordings if there are any. Not many of us had little recorders back in those days. Nowadays, you’d use your mobile if you needed something like that, but back then, devices like that were quite rare. Alistair must have had it for a reason, and that reason could still exist. You never know. What do you think? Should I reach out to him?”

“Let’s go for it.”

“Have you ever experienced a strong feeling about something that compelled you to dig deeper?” Alistair inquired.

“You’re asking ME? I’m the queen of instincts. I tend to sense things when others are sitting back, convinced that everything is fine… it works wonders for me.”

“Share it. It’s good for the soul, and I’ve heard it’s one step closer to sainthood.”

“Instincts rarely strike me. I’m often labeled as too pragmatic to be intuitive.”

“Really?”

“I’ll ignore that comment. What I meant to convey is that creativity is not my forte, but for once, I was following a tiny thread of magic I didn’t even know I possessed.”

“That sounds like quite a burden,” she teased.

“More than you might realize. But tell me this: how many times in your life have you encountered an Alistair who shares a name with a man who became a priest?”

“Never? That’s unusual.”

“To say the least. I’m known as the rational one in my family, someone who never jumps to conclusions, a dependable person who overthinks everything, sifting through every little detail. Yet, in this instance, I found myself caught by coincidence.”

They were seated in Attica, the coffee shop where they had previously gathered to discuss John’s illness, but this time, the atmosphere was quite different.

“And?”

“I called my father, feeling a bit foolish, to be honest. Had the name been Jim, or Mick, or Bob, I likely wouldn’t have thought twice about it.”

“And we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Exactly. I felt I was onto something, but I needed more information. Thankfully, it turned out to be straightforward. Dad had retained many of his youthful feelings about Alistair, the priesthood, and losing his closest friend. He was eager to talk, and when he began, it felt as if Alistair had left his life just yesterday.”

“What I regretted most was not being able to deliver good news. I could see his enthusiasm building—perhaps at the prospect of reconnecting—and the last thing I wanted to do was tell him Alistair was gone. When I shared the news about the accident, he was heartbroken.”

“Then when I described you and the qualities I see in you, it was evident he was crushed.”

“What? No, no, no, it can’t be that simple.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too unbelievable to consider… it seems far-fetched to think this search of mine could wrap up so effortlessly.”

“Remember, even if it all turns out to be accurate, you’ll still only be at the beginning of a journey. It won’t be an instant happy family reunion. Many years have passed since all of this transpired, and there’s no assurance that we can take things further or that the family would even want to.”

“There you have it,” he said, sheepishly scratching his head. “For once, I acted on an instinct that might benefit you.”

“Well, I’m glad you did! I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. I visited an internet café the other day and spent hours there, nearly losing my mind.”

“Maybe you need to take a step back.”

“No way!”

“I’m just worried you’ll get your hopes up and…”

“Too late! I posted about it on Facebook.”

“Well, that should draw them in!” he chuckled.

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I knew you’d laugh.”

“You’ve got the wrong idea. I don’t engage much with Facebook, but it does have its advantages once you look past the endless parade of people flaunting their perfect bodies.”

“Or showcasing their breakfast.”

“I appreciate the idea of using it to reconnect with old friends, but it’s not what I envision happening there.”

“For me, the urge to correct others’ grammatical errors is a sign that I need to step back.”

“They might just block you! It’s why I don’t spend too much time there, but regarding your post, I’ve actually received a few responses,” she admitted shyly, “not necessarily from anyone named O’Grady, but one person mentioned they knew someone from school, another worked with someone bearing that name, and the best one—someone whose actual name is O’Grady.”

“I agree that posting a note is a bit of a long shot, but given that Facebook exists and costs nothing other than time, I still think it’s worth taking the chance. I know it doesn’t even come close to your first intuitive hunch, but you never know. Maybe we can combine the two.”

“So… on Facebook… what exactly did you ask?”

“I didn’t reveal much… just mentioned I was seeking information about a family from Victoria named O’Grady, that they had four children—three girls and a boy named Alistair. Someone responded, saying they knew a fantastic young man who works at a café in Warrandyte. He has Down Syndrome, has been there for years, and ensures that customers are served promptly and tables are cleaned quickly. He’s articulate, polite, and possesses better intuitive intelligence than many capable people.”

“It’s a bit vague, but it’s a lead. You never know!”

“I don’t have much more than what you already know, but if anyone can dig up information, it will be my mother. She was a teacher for years and knows how everyone is related. She’s quite good with details. Dad is like most men… completely lacking in specifics. But I bet I’ve sparked their interest! Mum will likely be combing through all the connections she knows.”

“But right now, I’m just trying to grasp the serendipity of this situation. If your father hadn’t fallen ill and ended up in the hospital, none of this would have happened. I would have flown to Melbourne, spent time with my children, and perhaps sat beside you on the plane, exchanging pleasantries, and that would have been it. Your mother might still be alive, and you would be left with an insatiable curiosity driving you mad, never able to get to the bottom of it.”

“Now, your father DID get sick, DID receive positive news about his health, DID tell you the truth about your origins, we DID recognize each other on the plane, we DID share a drink, and then the clincher... I am Alistair, your biological father was Alistair… I was named after a priest… your father was a priest… both shared the surname O’Grady. I believe this was destined to unfold. I’ve always dismissed such ideas, but…”

“Do you believe in all that talk about the universe sending us signs?” Ailsa interjected.

“Until recently, I didn’t, but now I’m beginning to question that! My mind is reeling with all these random nudges and events that are right in front of us, yet still need to be pieced together. It challenges my beliefs but also encourages me to be more open-minded. So, the short answer is, I wish I could say I believe, but the truth is, I’m still a Doubting Thomas.”

“There’s much in life that we don’t fully understand, yet we accept it within the bigger picture. Take, for instance, that day when your mother unexpectedly met John after their split. How can you rationalize that? And had that not occurred, where might you be now? Your story would be entirely different, and we may never have crossed paths. The reality is, Ailsa, we can analyze every intricate detail of our lives, tracing the twists and turns to find a plan, but the truth is, there’s less genuine planning in life than we like to think, and a great deal of serendipity.”

“And hopefully, a lot more to come!”

“If we are meant to discover the truth, we will. I know a couple who were childhood sweethearts. They thought they were destined to be together, but he left for England to study, planning to return, but he never did. She became a nurse and they married different people. Years later, after a failed marriage, she sought him out online. It was challenging at first, as there were many men with the same name, but she remembered his Norwegian middle name. She found him on a university website, still in England, while she was in Australia. Both were free to marry, and thus, their love story began anew.”

“That’s quite a remarkable story! But it doesn’t make things easier!” she exclaimed dramatically. “A few weeks ago, all I wanted was for my mother to talk to me. I just needed answers. The truth is, it wasn’t any of my business. Imagine my reaction if she had tried to interfere in MY life.”

“Your intentions were honorable.”

“Were they? As adults, we don’t need others to dictate how we should live our lives or confess their pasts. I had no right to pry, and now I’m left without a mother, potentially having opened a Pandora's box whose ramifications I can’t even fathom.”

“There’s a grand design for all of us that we cannot avoid. Your loss is immense, yet it brings together three families.”

“Three?”

“I’m including mine… your current family, your father’s, and mine. I believe my parents would be thrilled at the chance to reconnect. But now I’m pondering my place in this intricate web. I’ve never thought much about my name, and now it’s the thread connecting such a complex yet exhilarating tapestry.”