I had been waiting for this moment for several months. Lewis took the day off to meet my parents. We had been officially dating for three months, but he kept telling me he was too busy with work to meet them. As it turned out, that was all a lie, and he wasn’t working as a mechanic.
When we entered the house and my parents first saw Lewis, I noticed my dad’s expression drastically change. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.My dad, always the gracious host, invited Lewis to take a tour of the house, starting with the basement. I watched them walk down the stairs, thinking my dad was just trying to make Lewis feel welcome. But as soon as Lewis stepped inside, my father immediately slammed the door, locked it, and started calling the police.“He’s not really Lewis,” my dad shouted into the phone, “he’s actually an escaped convict named Jack Riley!”I was in shock. “Dad, what are you talking about?”My father, his voice stern and filled with authority, looked at me with a mixture of concern and anger. “Emma, I recognized him the moment I saw him. I never forget a face. Years ago, when I was still in the force, Jack Riley was one of the most wanted men. He was convicted of fraud, theft, and numerous other crimes. He escaped from prison and has been on the run ever since.”My mind was racing. I thought back to all the moments with Lewis—his mysterious absence from work, his reluctance to meet my family, the way he always seemed to avoid talking about his past. It all started to make sense.As we waited for the police to arrive, I could hear Lewis—or Jack—banging on the basement door, shouting for me to let him out. “Emma, please, this is a mistake! Your father is wrong!”But the look on my dad’s face told me otherwise. He had never been wrong about something like this before.The police arrived quickly, and within minutes, they had Lewis in handcuffs. One of the officers confirmed my father’s story. “We’ve been looking for Jack Riley for years. Good catch, sir.”I stood there, numb, as they took Lewis away. The man I thought I loved, the man I had trusted, was a criminal. My heart ached with betrayal and confusion.As the police car drove off, my dad put his arm around me. “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Emma. But it’s better you found out now rather than later.”In the days that followed, the reality of the situation sank in. I learned more about Jack’s criminal past and felt grateful for my father’s vigilance and quick thinking. It was a harsh lesson about trust and the importance of truly knowing the people we let into our lives.Ultimately, I realized how lucky I was to have a father who cared so deeply about my well-being. The experience brought us closer, and I knew I could always rely on him to protect me, no matter what.As I moved on from the shock and heartache, I took comfort in knowing that my father had saved me from a much worse fate. It was a painful but valuable lesson in love and trust.
Australia’s adopted popstar son Leo Sayer reflects on his career
“I look at my role as being a friend of Canberra Hospital, I can bring some pleasure and happiness sometimes to people who are really in difficult times in their lives.”
With backing music from a Bluetooth speaker, Sayer croons his way around the cancer wards, making a human connection with everyone he comes across.
Canberra Region Cancer Centre Operations Manager Caroline McIntyre says Sayer’s visits are typically kept a surprise for patients and staff.
“He’s always come in so discreetly,” she says.
“Normally it’s just very quiet, he comes up in the back lift and says hello to literally everybody.
“Some of them are doing it tough, and to have a little bit of joy and light – it really gives them a lift.
“What makes me happy is to see people getting chemo on their feet dancing.”
Jamming with Jimi Hendrix, Countdown and the Troubadour
Originally a graphic designer by trade, English-born Leo Sayer rose to pop prominence in London in the late 1960s, as a singer-songwriter – and was soon adopted by Australia as an honorary son after his first tour here in 1974.
He went on to become an Australian citizen in 2009.
Sayer was a regular on ABC TV’s Countdown during the 70s and 80s, performing chart-toppers like “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing”, “When I Need You”, “More Than I Could Say” and “Orchard Road”.
He blushingly admits they were wild days – when he didn’t always live up to his “good-guy” public persona.
“It was mad, I mean, Top of the Pops in England, Countdown over here,” he says.
“You were mobbed by the fans, I remember being dragged out of a limousine the first tour that I came here, and then speaking to crazy people like Molly Meldrum on TV and trying to sort of like take it all in.”
It seems hard to believe – the petite, well-spoken singer, with a mane of curly hair that inspired changing his name from Gerard to Leo – beating off mobs of screaming fangirls.
Sayer circulated in superstar company, becoming close friends with former Beatles George Harrison and Paul McCartney, collaborating with Roger Daltrey of The Who, and even sharing a sly cigarette or two with John Lennon and Yoko Ono who had a flat above his design studio.
“I met Jimi Hendrix right at the start of his career. I actually jammed with him, playing the harmonica, and him playing the guitar,” he says.
Recalling his 1975 opening night at the famous Troubadour Club in Los Angeles, he looked up to see an intimidating line-up of fans in the front row.
“It was David Bowie, Elton John, and ‘The Fonz’ [Henry Winkler].”
Alongside them: John Cleese, Mick Jagger, Bernie Taupin, and comedian Marty Feldman.
“We never thought it would last, we were adapting to things around us, writing songs about things that are around us,” he says.
“And we thought they were only for our generation — so the amazing thing is my music’s become like a fine wine, where you lay it down and years later, it becomes a collector’s item.
“We’re in an age where the music that I make, young kids are actually latching onto it now, and they’re finding that that generation and that style of music we made is as current now as anything.”
Sayer’s health battles, still spreading hope at 76
Leo Sayer says his hospital charity work caps off a career dedicated to providing joy through music.
“It’s a nice piece of synchronicity really, because I was born in the grounds of a hospital in Shoreham by Sea in Sussex, near Brighton in England,” Mr Sayer said.
“I suppose I’ve always felt comfortable in hospitals and being around hospitals.
“Growing up, my dad was a hospital engineer, Mum was a nurse, my sister was a matron.”
Sayer has health struggles of his own, including three stents in his heart, which help him have a genuine connection to the hospital patients he entertains.
“[My music] is providing something that isn’t taking away from any of the treatment that’s going on. It’s providing something that’s just putting a smile on peoples’ faces.
“Music is communication and that’s what this is all about, we’re communicating, we’re making people feel better.
“We’re not healing people with music, but we are making them feel better about their healing.
“To sell out Canberra Hospital will do me fine.”
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