For His Little Girl

mother is?'

'No. Pippa couldn't risk telling her before she told you, in case she let it out. Besides, I don't think she wanted anything to spoil Josie's time here. I did suggest that she should delay leaving because I didn't like the way she looked. I don't think the flight will be good for her. But she was adamant she wanted to get away.'

'Away from me,' he said bitterly. 'I thought I had a chance to put things right.'

Claudia's face was sympathetic, but her words were firm. 'Luke, face it. You thought you could put things right for yourself. But you've got to put them right for her.'

'I've been a total jerk, haven't I?'

'Yes,' Claudia said simply. 'But at least you have the grace to see that you're a jerk. Which means that you're a redeemable jerk.'

'Thanks for that small comfort,' he said wryly. 'I think I'll have a shower.'

The shower cleared his brain slightly, but a clear view of things didn't make them look any better. He went to his bedroom to find clean clothes, and stopped at what he saw on the pillow. It was an envelope bearing his name in Pippa's unmistakable handwriting.

He'd never been a coward before but he found he was one now. He would do anything rather than read that letter with its message of finality. He would find her first, explain, ask her forgiveness. Then he would read the letter.

Even as these wild thoughts rushed through his brain he was opening the envelope with shaking hands. Pippa had written:

My darling Luke,

You were right, I should have told you from the start. I always knew it. But, you see, I didn't expect anything that happened. I thought it was all over between us, certainly on your side. I never thought you could love me again, but you did, and I suppose I played you a shabby trick in letting you plan for a future that I knew might never happen. I kept meaning to tell you and putting it off. Try to forgive me.

My main concern has always been Josie. She loves you, and I want you to be part of her life, whether I'm there or not. I've named Frank as her guardian, but you can see plenty of her. I shall make him promise that, and he's a man of his word.

But please, please Luke, if it comes to the worst, don't fight over her. Josie loves you, but she loves Frank and Elly, too, and if you fight it will make her unhappy. Poor little thing, she'll have enough to cope with.

Goodbye, my dearest. Thank you for the gifts you gave me. Josie first, but oh, so many other wonderful things. If we don't see each other again, don't remember the unkind things I said to you. I didn't mean them. I've always loved you for what you were, and not a different kind of man that you might have been. And I always will. Pippa.

There was something small and hard in the envelope. He tipped it out and found himself holding the diamond ring he'd given her at Montecito, long ago, in another life.

He sat and stared at the letter and the ring, feeling his whole body grow cold with fear, until he was so paralyzed that he thought he might never move again.

When he finally managed it he reached stiffly for the phone and called the guest house in London. But the phone was answered by a grumpy new resident who knew nothing except that nobody was where they should be. He hung up, still dazed, and when Claudia brought him some more coffee he drank it mechanically.

'You'd better try to get some sleep,' Claudia said.

'No, I'm getting the next flight to England.'

'I've already booked you on the eight o'clock flight this evening. That's the first that had a seat free. Go to bed and I'll wake you in time.'

'You're the best friend a man ever had.'

She delivered him to LAX that night, and he caught the 8 p.m. flight to London Heathrow. It lasted eleven hours and he was awake for every moment, looking out of the tiny window at the darkness, with his mind playing tricks, for she seemed to be there.

Sometimes she was as he'd first seen her at eighteen in her outrageous clothes and the attitude to match. But then he saw her as she'd been in the past few days, apparently happy but concealing her secret, because he wasn't man enough to share it. Often she would be wearing the glorious silk robe Claudia had given her, and that would hurt him. 'You should have only the best,' he'd said, but he • hadn't given her the best. By now she ought to have a wardrobe full of silk, given by the man who loved her.

He wished he could escape the night that offered such unbearable visions, and eventually he was lucky. Because London was eight hours ahead of Los Angeles, he was flying forward in time, and after barely a couple of hours of darkness, he saw the first glint of dawn.

But this was almost worse, because he began to reread her letter, and phrases stood out with new and hideous meanings.

'I've always loved you for what you were, and not a different kind of man that you might have been.'

She had always known that he would let her down, and accepted it, and forgiven him. That was what she meant. She'd loved him as a woman loves a child, making allowances, asking nothing. And that, when you came right down to it, was the kind of love he'd always preferred. He put the letter away quickly, wondering if the flight would never end.

At last they landed. It was early afternoon, although his inner clock said dawn. With only one piece of hand luggage he got through the lines quickly. Heathrow had changed since he'd left it eleven years earlier, yet not so much that he couldn't identify the spot where he'd held Pippa for the last time. She'd smiled and teased him about flirting with some beauty on the flight, and he'd thought she didn't care. Now he wondered how he could have been so blind.

Blind and stupid! Blind and stupid!

And there was what looked like the very place where he'd retraced his steps to the gate, hoping to find her there still, and been so desolate that she was gone. And, fool that he was, he'd shrugged his hurt aside and said if that was how she felt, who needed her? And all the time he had needed her, but been too proud to say so, and now it might be too late.

He changed some money and found a taxi, thrusting several large bills into the hands of the startled driver and telling him to 'Move it!' Even so it seemed to take eons to cover the twenty miles to London, and then a few more while they crawled through traffic jams to the center. But at last he was turning the old familiar corner, stopping outside the guest house.

The place looked different, he thought, pushing open the glass door. Smartened up out of all recognition. A stocky young woman In jeans came down the stairs, smiling a welcome.

'Pippa,' he said tensely. 'Where is she?'

'In hospital,' the young woman said. 'She flew back from America yesterday and they took her straight there. She was in a bad way!'

A cold hand clutched him. 'Her operation? She's had it?'

'No, they had to stabilize her first. They were hoping to do it this afternoon, I think.'

'Where?'

'The Matthews Infirmary. It's-'

'I know it, thanks.' It was where all the medical students came from. Luke was out of the door and running. There might still be time to see her first. There had to be. Because if not-

Because if not, she might die without ever knowing how much he loved her. And for that he would never forgive himself as long as he lived.

Chapter Twelve

At the infirmary he gave Pippa's name to the receptionist.

'On the eighth floor,' she said. 'But I'm telling you what I've told all the others. You can't go in, and it's going to be a long wait.'

'All the others?'