The Love of Her Life (34 page)

‘Well, while I’m on the subject,’ Zoe said untruthfully. ‘You and Mac. Look, I know you two have some weird kind of sex thing going on –’

‘It’s not a weird sex thing,’ Kate said hastily. ‘And it’s not –’

‘Let me finish.’ Zoe waved her arms at her, peremptorily. ‘Whatever it is, it’s weird, anyway, and don’t think I didn’t know something was going on by the way, he used to freeze whenever anyone mentioned your name –’

‘Nice,’ said Kate.

‘I just wish you two could sort it out.’ Zoe flapped her hands at Kate. ‘I know it’s silly, but it’s true – I
know
he likes you, you know, and you quite clearly have a thing for him.’

Kate pulled at a piece of bread. ‘We’ve been there,’ she said firmly. ‘Look, Mac and I have always had – we always have – well, we’ll always be close, OK? But it’s a timing thing. I just think it wasn’t meant to be.’

‘Why do you think that?’ Zoe put her elbows on the table.

‘It’s timing,’ Kate repeated eventually. ‘We had a chance at it. I think there’s too much water under the bridge for us to go back and start again.’

‘I don’t buy it,’ said Zoe.

‘It’s true,’ said Kate. Francesca thought it was true, too. And she was right, she knew. She was starting to see everything much more clearly. ‘Look at my mum and dad. I actually think they’re partly still in love with each other, or at least they think they are. But the timing’s wrong now. They couldn’t get back together, even if they were free to. They’ve got different lives now, they live thousands of miles apart …’ She thought of her father’s rage, his loathing of Venetia mixed with his open lust and admiration for her, which had peppered her teenage years. Her mother had left him, like Kate had left Mac – perhaps for the same reasons, or perhaps for others, Kate still didn’t know.

‘No, Kate,’ said Zoe. ‘It’s the opposite. I’ve known you since you were five. You’re not about to repeat the mistakes your parents made. OK? You’re nothing like them.’

‘Well, that’s not true,’ said Kate. ‘They’re my parents.’

‘Yes, but genetics aren’t everything. I think a lot of stuff skips a generation. Especially now I’ve got children. I see what they’ve got that neither of us had. And I’m telling you, you and Mac are not your mum and dad. Seriously.’

‘He’s always trying to fix things,’ said Kate. ‘I’m not ready. I want to sort it out for myself.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Zoe. ‘But you can’t blame him for trying, can you? Not if he’s in love with you? And I’ve seen him with you. He is. In love with you.’

Kate looked away. ‘Oh darling. He’s not. He just wants to make everything alright. Sort everything out, wipe the slate clean. Honestly, after last night – well, this morning … it’s over. Really.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m going back to New York, and that’s that.’

Zoe looked disappointed. ‘You really are?’

‘Yes,’ Kate said firmly. ‘But properly this time. I’m getting a place of my own, moving out of Mum’s. And I’ll be back
lots, if this column for
Venus
comes off. You’re going to come out and visit, too. Hey!’ She waggled her finger. ‘You could come with Diggory! Leave the children with your mum for a few days!’

‘Steady on there,’ said Zoe, laughing. ‘We’ve had two dates, Kate. We’re not about to start hopping over to New York on mini-breaks. But I’ll come! Yay!’

‘Great,’ said Kate. ‘Even Dad’s coming in a few months, when he’s better, and he’s bringing Lisa and Dani.’ She thought of her mother, briefly. ‘I’ll tell Mum if you’re in town. She’d love to see you. But I wouldn’t dare tell her dad was staying with me.’

‘You need to ask your mum what happened between those two,’ said Zoe, reading her thoughts. ‘I’ve never understood it, myself. Don’t you want to know?’

‘Sort of not,’ said Kate, holding her wine glass to her cheek; she was hot.

‘Why not?’

Kate tried to explain. ‘I don’t know. If the last couple of years has taught me anything, it’s that … there are some things you’re just not meant to understand.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ said Zoe. ‘Cheers.’

They clinked glasses and smiled. The waiter reappeared with the menus.

‘Will you ladies be staying for food?’

‘You bet,’ said Zoe. ‘And – can you bring us two glasses of champagne, please?’ Kate started forward. ‘We should raise a glass, not to everything that’s happened, but to us,’ Zoe said as the waiter retreated. ‘Seriously. Never forget I love you, Kate. We all love you, me and Flora and Harry.’

In under a minute, two glasses of champagne appeared on the table, and Zoe raised hers. ‘To Steve, to you, and to me,’ she said, sticking her chin out. ‘Steve, we’ll always drink
to you, darling.’ She held her glass high in the air, and looked up to the ceiling, then back at Kate. ‘To us, all of us.’

‘To all of us,’ Kate agreed, and they drank.

‘So, what time’s your flight tomorrow?’ Her father pushed his hair back out of his face.

‘It’s at nine-thirty.’ Kate held up her hand, to shield her eyes from the sun. She shook her feet out, stretching on the wide steps. ‘I’ve got loads to do and I haven’t done it, still. Got to see Mr Allan now he’s back again, got to pack of course, and I’ve got to make sure everything’s tidied away properly, you know.’

‘Of course,’ said her father, who was utterly uninterested in domestic matters, unless they specifically pertained to him. ‘Yep. You know, Kate –’

Kate leaned forward. ‘Dani, perhaps don’t go any further. OK? It’s a busy road.’ She turned back to her father. ‘I meant to say, that reminds me. I’ve got to drop the spare keys off at the estate agent’s too. They’re showing people round next week.’

Her dad hadn’t mentioned finding a new tenant for her flat since she’d first seen him and she wondered if he’d just forgotten or was being tactful. She wasn’t sure. He turned to her now, smiling.

‘I’m glad,’ he said. ‘Good, so you are going to rent it out again?’

‘Yes,’ Kate said. She put her hands out behind her, and looked up at the clear blue sky. ‘I can’t have it empty, I need the money, you need the money. You’ve been so kind, Dad, thanks a lot. I don’t think I ever thanked you properly, for bailing me out of the flat after Sean went off.’

Her father looked embarrassed, and a little flustered. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said. ‘Not at all, who wouldn’t?’

‘I know you want a tenant in there again,’ said Kate. ‘They say it’ll be a couple of weeks, honestly –’

Daniel Miller put his hand over his eldest daughter’s, as Dani sat at their feet, a few steps below. ‘Kate,’ he said, softly, ‘you misunderstand. I wanted you out of that flat because I couldn’t see how you could ever be happy there … after what happened. Not because I wanted the rent. Please.’ He sat back, shaking his head. Just as Kate felt herself breaking into a grin, he rather spoilt the effect somewhat by adding, ‘
Please
. That my daughter should go without a home? Never!’

‘
Never
,’ Dani bellowed loudly at their feet. ‘Oh
never
!’

Kate laughed, but her father scooped his youngest daughter up into his arms. ‘You monkey,’ he said, tickling her.

‘
Monkey
,’ said Dani, dramatically. ‘Oh, monkey, monkey, monkey.’

‘You used to do that, too,’ said Daniel, tickling Dani, who was wriggling and screaming.

‘Do what?’ Kate said.

Dani screamed loudly with pleasure and Daniel released her, a flash of irritation on his face. ‘Shh Dani,’ he said. ‘You used to impersonate me when you were a little girl.’

‘Like that?’ Kate was amazed.

Her father scratched his chin. ‘Oh yes. You’d appear in the kitchen after we’d put you to bed, and repeat these dreadfully pompous things I’d said during the day but
obviously forgotten.’ He chuckled. ‘It used to make me so crazy, but your mother said you’d grow out of it.’

‘That’s so funny, I don’t remember that at all.’

‘Well, she was right,’ Daniel said. ‘You grew out of it.’

High up in the sky, a tiny plane, almost invisible, cut a white trail through the blue expanse above her. Kate shook her head.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ she said.

They were silent for a moment, as Dani watched them.

Daniel sighed. ‘Isn’t this lovely.’

They were sitting on the steps at the front of the Albert Hall, which was eerily quiet for a Thursday afternoon; Kate had met Daniel and Dani for coffee, and they’d gone to Patisserie Valerie on the Brompton Road, and Dani had demanded a huge strawberry-filled pastry, of which she only managed three bites. Lisa was picking up Daniel’s prescription and running some errands in her vast SUV; Daniel therefore was in charge of his daughters, for a couple of hours. Afterwards, they’d walked to the Albert Hall, nostalgia for the old days overcoming Daniel and Kate, and there they sat, looking down towards the Royal College of Music, Daniel’s alma mater, quietly chatting and waiting for Lisa to pick them up, as Dani ran around the balustraded terrace, singing softly to herself. She had told Kate she was a princess, or Maria in
The Sound of Music
, she hadn’t decided yet.

‘So what will you do back in New York?’ her father asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Kate. ‘Sue’s going to give me some freelance work, and I’ll start getting some contacts out …’ she paused. ‘My column’s in next week’s edition of
Venus
, so let’s see.’

‘How can Girl about Town write a column about New York?’ her father asked, wryly.

‘Maybe it’d be good,’ Kate said. ‘Girl about New York
Town instead.’ Daniel said nothing. ‘Maybe interviews, I could be a stringer for them, do their stuff out of New York, contact other people who I knew from
Venus
, see what’s available … We’ll just have to see.’

In truth, it had been so long since she was in the magazine world she wasn’t sure if anyone would remember her. Kate Miller, one of the youngest features editors in town at twenty-seven, the girl who disappeared off the face of the earth: writing the column for Sue had been enormous luck, she knew it, and she was still almost speechless with gratitude to her although, as Sue put it, ‘You deserve a bit of good luck, Kate. So get over it.’

Now she was older, wiser, calmer, saner, and she didn’t know what the future held for her in New York – she just knew she was going back there, even though –

‘And you don’t want to stay here?’ her father said, sitting up straight and fiddling with his cuffs, interrupting Kate’s thoughts as Dani, who had overheard this, danced over to them.

‘Hey, Kate!’ she said. ‘Will you stay?’

‘No,’ said Kate, scooping her little sister into her arms. ‘But I’ll come back lots to see you, and I’ll take you to the zoo next time to see the giraffes.’ Dani was going through a big obsession with giraffes. Kate blew raspberries onto her sister’s neck, and she screamed. Daniel looked weary suddenly, and a little bored.

‘I’m going to get a place of my own there, too,’ Kate said. ‘Dad, you should come over when you’re better.’

‘Well, I’ll have to, with the Manilow album,’ her father said, with bravado. He looked around, at the Albert Hall, glowing red behind him. ‘And they want me to do another series of
Maestro!
for Christmas, if I’m up to it.’

‘I’m not sure about that,’ said Kate, frowning, but Daniel ignored her.

‘… So yes, it’ll be pretty hectic… Anyway,’ he said casually. ‘You’re moving out of your mother’s then?’

‘Well, it’s about time,’ Kate said, releasing Dani, who clambered onto the step below, in between her legs. ‘Poor Mum and Oscar, I should think they’re longing to have some time to themselves, now they’ve had a chance to get used to me not being there.’

And then her father said, impulsively,

‘Give her a message, will you?’

The tone of his voice reminded Kate of utter desperation, of the way she had to struggle not to mention Mac’s name to people, to ask how he was, just trying to glean some minute, significant detail about him. She stared at Daniel, in surprise.

‘Mum? Yes – of course, Dad, what is it –?’

Her father pursed his lips and gazed ahead, into the distance, his aquiline profile set. He looked like a Roman bust in the V&A, Kate thought. He was silent for so long she thought he wasn’t going to say anything, and she was about to chip in instead, to tell him about how Mr Allan had seen him play here all those years ago, when suddenly he said,

‘Tell her I still think about Sheffield.’

Kate was disappointed. She’d been expecting something more romantic.
You are the key to my violin case and my heart
. Well, something like that. ‘You still think about Sheffield?’ She repeated it, uncertainly.

‘Yes.’

‘Well – but Dad. Will she know what that means?’

Daniel clutched his hand to his heart, briefly. ‘Yes,’ he said simply, and then was silent.

Dani wrapped her hands round Kate’s ankles, as Kate sat next to her father, thinking how strange it was that he was now so human to her, suddenly. And wondering, wondering what it meant.
‘Yes, it’s much better now,’ Lisa said, biting her lip as she turned the monster car around a corner. ‘He sleeps through the night, and he’s in such a good mood now, thank
god
.’

‘I hear you,’ said Kate. ‘He seemed to be today, that’s for sure.’

‘Is it this way?’ Lisa asked suddenly.

‘Yes,’ said Kate. ‘Thanks, Lisa, it’s really kind of you to drop me off.’

‘Not at all, not at all.’ Lisa sounded cross. Kate turned to watch her, but her expression was unreadable behind her huge mirrored wraparound shades. Kate cleared her throat.

‘Lisa,’ she began. ‘I just wanted to say – thanks, you know.’

‘You’ve said thanks,’ said Lisa.

‘No, I mean – for this past month or whatever. It’s been –’ Kate searched for words, and realized she had them already. ‘It’s been lovely. Just wonderful. I had no idea how –’
well
this would work out
, she was going to say, then realized you couldn’t really say that about a father’s near-death experience. ‘I’ve loved seeing Dad, and getting closer to Dani and – and you, Lisa.’ She sounded about ten years old; she stopped. ‘Thanks, anyway,’ she finished. ‘I don’t think it can have been easy, sometimes.’

‘You’re right,’ said Lisa, neutrally.

‘Oh …’ said Kate, slightly taken aback.

‘You were a right bitch to me at first, Kate, you know that don’t you?’

‘No I wasn’t!’ said Kate, defensively. ‘I wasn’t!’ She knew she didn’t sound convincing.

‘You were,’ said Lisa. ‘It’s a fact, let’s not dwell. It wasn’t so much you, anyway. That boyfriend of yours – yuck. He treated me like I was a Thai prostitute, practically, your dad’s young mistress.’

‘Really?’ said Kate, fascinated. ‘God, I’m sorry. I was different then, things were different then – I – he –’

‘You weren’t that different,’ said Lisa, as they turned onto the Edgware Road. ‘You were the same, Kate. Same cross, gangly, geeky little girl who was the apple of her daddy’s eye. You still are –’ she held out a hand, as Kate opened her mouth ‘– but then you were living the life you thought you ought to be living. Now – well, I’m sure you wouldn’t ask for any of what’s happened. But it’s been good for you.’

‘Er …’ said Kate. ‘Thanks?’

‘You should thank me,’ said Lisa, bluntly. ‘Your father’s a nightmare to live with, you know he is.’ She grinned. ‘Imagine if you had to cope with all of that on your own. I can quite see what your mother had to put up with. You should love me, you know.’

‘I do love you,’ Kate said, realizing it was true.

‘Right, fine,’ said Lisa, sticking out her bottom lip. Sun bounced off her sunglasses. ‘Right,’ she said again, as they climbed up Maida Vale, towards the flat.

Kate looked out of the window, at the streets she knew so well; this time tomorrow she’d be back in New York, sitting in the dining room with her mother and Oscar. How strange to think it, and yet –

‘He still talks about her, you know,’ said Lisa. Her voice was deathly quiet, almost under her breath.

‘Who?’

‘Your father. Still talks about your mother. In his sleep, a lot of the time. Just says her name, I don’t know why.’

‘Really?’ said Kate, and she could believe it.

‘Yeah,’ said Lisa, turning into Elgin Avenue. ‘Yeah. She’s quite a ghost, your mother. He’ll always love her, you know.’ She pulled over.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Kate.

‘I know so,’ Lisa said, turning off the engine. She patted Kate’s hand. ‘You look so like her, these days. It’s really strange.’

Then she leant over, and kissed her on the cheek.

‘Don’t run away again, like she did,’ she said. ‘Come back soon. Not just for your dad. For Dani and me, too. OK?’

‘OK,’ said Kate, trying to see Lisa’s eyes through the glasses. She hugged her. ‘Thank you – for everything.’

‘Whatever,’ said Lisa, waving her hand dismissively. ‘Safe flight, you. Call us, OK? And don’t fucking leave it so long this time.’

It was six o’clock; her last night in the flat, in London, for who knows how long. Kate let herself in, wearily, and looked down in surprise. There on the floor, slid under the door, was a handwritten note; her blood ran cold, fear spiralling in her chest. She looked again. It was attached to a magazine.