The Terrible Privacy Of Maxwell Sim

– Proceed on the current motorway, said Emma.

‘I haven’t got her a present!’

And it was true: my morning adventure in Lichfield had driven paternal obligations clean out of my mind. But I couldn’t possibly turn up empty-handed. I would have to come off at the next service station, in about eight miles’ time.

Once I’d parked the car and dashed inside, I began to look around frantically. At first I could see very little that would impress her. There was the usual shop selling mobile phone accessories but somehow I didn’t think she would be too excited to be presented with an in-car charger or a bluetooth headset. (Which reminded me: I really would have to get the headset on my car working, as soon as possible. Maybe tonight.) Probably my best bet was W. H. Smith, but even there …Was she really likely to get much use out of fold-up garden chairs, even if they were on sale at two for ?10? There were plenty of cuddly toys but even I could see that they looked horrendously cheap and ugly. A continental power adaptor, suitable for both Northern and Southern European countries, was practical but still not calculated to bring a grateful sparkle to a young girl’s eyes. What about a colouring pad? They had plenty of those, and she was keen on art, as I knew from the school pictures that she’d until recently been in the habit of sending me. They had pens to match, as well. Surely that would be fine. All children liked drawing, didn’t they?

I went over to pay, didn’t attempt to engage in any banter with the terrifyingly bored-looking guy in a turban sitting behind the till, and was back on the motorway within a few minutes.

– In two miles, exit left, towards South Lakes, said Emma, before very long.

The countryside was rugged and interesting, by now. Brown heritage signs had started to appear, reminding me that the delights of Blackpool were mine for the sampling, a few miles to my west, and hinting subtly that the nearby Historic City of Lancaster was well worth a short detour. We were emphatically in the North, at last. We had left Middle England far behind.

– In one mile, exit left, towards South Lakes.

‘God, I’m nervous, Emma. I won’t try to hide it from you. Well, I can’t hide anything from you, really, can I? You know everything there is to know about me. You’re the all-seeing eye.’

– Next exit left, towards South Lakes. Then a quarter of a mile later, heading slightly left at the roundabout.

‘I don’t know why I’m so nervous, though. Caroline’s been quite friendly, recently, when I’ve spoken to her on the phone. I suppose the problem is that it’s not friendliness I want. It’s not enough. In a way, it hurts even more when she’s nice to me.’

– Heading slightly left at the roundabout, take first exit.

‘And I really hope that Lucy hasn’t changed too much. She’s always been an affectionate girl. We were never as awkward together – nothing like as awkward – as Caroline makes out in that … rotten story of hers. Lucy’s simple, uncomplicated. You’ll like her – I know you will.’

– Proceed on the current road.

Dusk was falling as we drove along the A684 together. We passed a roadside cafe which consisted of little more than a Portakabin with a flag of St George flying above it, and numerous brown heritage signs inviting us to visit The World of Beatrix Potter, which would have to wait till another day, as far as we were concerned. Soon enough, through the rain and the encroaching dark, the lights of Kendal itself flickered up ahead.

‘Hello, Max,’ said Caroline.

On the doorstep, she leaned forward, put one arm around me, and kissed me on the cheek. I held the kiss for as long as I thought I could get away with, breathing in her scent, hugging the contours of the body I had once known so well.

‘Ooh – is that your car?’ she said, breaking free and wandering down the front garden path to get a closer look. ‘Very nice. You don’t see many of those round here.’

‘It’s the company’s, actually,’ I said.

She nodded her approval. ‘Impressive. You must be coming up in the world.’

The rain had stopped now, more or less. I turned to get a closer look at the front of the house. It was small, bijou, semi-detached and built of local stone. I suddenly wished with all my heart that I was staying the night here, and not at the local Travelodge, where I was already checked in. But no such invitation had been forthcoming.

‘Brr. Let’s get out of this cold,’ said Caroline, and led me inside.

‘Nice haircut, by the way,’ I said, risking a compliment as I followed her into the kitchen. For years, her hair had been a disaster area. She had never known what to do with it – the way she wore it was always not quite long, not quite short; not quite curly, not quite straight; not quite blonde, not quite brown (even the colour was indeterminate). But now, somebody had given it a serious going-over, and she looked more stylish than I’d ever seen her. Brown with blonde highlights – such an obvious way to go, when I thought about it. Following her retreating back, I could see that she had lost quite a bit of weight, too: maybe a stone, maybe a stone-and-a-half. She was wearing a tight cashmere top and skinny jeans that hugged the curve of her hips and buttocks. She looked great. She looked about ten years younger than when I’d last seen her. She could easily have passed for someone in her mid-thirties. I felt flabby, old and unfit by comparison.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she said.

‘Great.’ I’d been hoping that she might offer me a glass of wine or something, but it was going to be tea, apparently. ‘Where’s Lucy?’

‘She’s upstairs. Beautifying herself. She’ll be down in a minute.’

‘Great.’

In the car on the way over, I’d been building up a mental image of Lucy rushing down the stairs to throw herself into her dad’s arms. Looked like I was wrong about that one, as well. In fact the warmest welcome I seemed to be getting was from the little brown Dachshund puppy who now ran over from the other side of the kitchen, yelping at me and trying his best to jump up as high as my knees. I caught him in the middle of one of his jumps and held him to my chest.