In 1989 I had to register a mortgage bond for two Iranian brothers (twins) who had set up a shop to sell Persian carpets at Century City.
They had to show me their original birth certificates as part of the required documentation because they were foreigners. I immediately noticed that they had been born at Somerset Hospital. Strange, I thought. So they explained that they had been born here, of South African parents, and only emigrated to Iran when they were adults.
But there was still something strange about those birth certificates: then I realised what it was: the doctor who delivered the babies and signed the certificates, was my dad I had seen his signature hundreds of times and recognised it immediately. It was very unique and his name was perfectly clear.
I told them the story. They weren't that surprised. I was more surprised than they were. I may have copies in an old file somewhere but of course it would be confidential.
The name of their business was their surname and it was quite beautiful and euphonic, but on recent visits to Century City I noticed that it had disappeared.
Matty was the quietest, most humble man, yet he left his fingerprints all over this country.
(I have another story about his fingerprints, but that's irrelevant here so it's for another time)!
