For His Little Girl

One of Luke's passing fancies! Still fooling herself, poor thing!

And if he picked up the receiver himself? Hey, Luke…remember me? I'm Pippa-no, Pippa!

In the end she wrote to him, and it took four attempts to get exactly the tone of voice she wanted: pleased about the news, cheerful, not asking, demanding or even faintly expecting-'just thought you'd like to know.'

She sent the letter off and began a week of agony, two weeks, three. Oh, God, he was going to ignore her! He probably felt entitled to. No strings. That had been the deal.

But she knew that if Luke, who was all the world to her, could brush her off in such a cheap, callous way, her heart would break forever.

After a month he telephoned, full of apologies. He'd been away from home, and his mail had just piled up. His voice was friendly, concerned, but not lover-like. In the joy of being able to believe in him again she found she could cope.

'How are you feeling?' he asked. 'Queasy? Poor thing.'

She actually managed to chuckle. 'Luke, I never felt better in my life. It's no big deal.'

'You're all right about it, then? I mean, you want to have the baby?'

'Of course. I'm looking forward to it.'

'And it's okay-as things are? You don't feel the need of anything boring and old-fashioned…like a husband?'

'Luke, honestly! In this day and age?'

'Well, some people still do. Anyway, I'm available if-if you like.'

So there it was. In his own, dutiful, roundabout way, he had asked her to marry him. The temptation to seize the chance was mind-blowing. Why not? Other men had started from this point and made happy marriages. She took a deep breath.

But before she could say the words, Luke added, 'Of course, I'll support you and the baby whatever happens.'

And the moment was gone. He'd spoken just quickly enough to tell her what answer he was hoping for. He was a nice boy and he had a conscience. But conscience wasn't enough.

'Darling, you're sweet, honestly you are,' she said with a laugh. 'But people don't have to get married these days. Am I such a weakling that I can't look after a little baby without you?'

'Just thought I might have a place in the proceedings, Ms. Modern and Liberated.'

'Mr. Solid and Reliable,' she teased. 'You don't want to turn out like Frank, do you?'

'Perish the thought!'

They talked for a while longer, and he promised to send her some money soon. Laughing, she wished him all the best. She knew she'd done well, sounding just right, cheerful, invincible, ready to tackle life with a song.

Then she hung up.

Then she sat staring at the dead telephone.

Then she locked herself in her room and sobbed until there were no tears left in all the world.

When the rest of the boarding house heard about the coming baby, they took her under their various wings. Every budding doctor in the place regarded this pregnancy as his or her special province. She left the Ritz and became Ma's permanent cook. This was a relief to everyone. Luke's departure had been a blow to more than Pippa.

Josie's birth was treated as a house event, and the other mothers in the maternity ward looked on in envy as visitors crowded around Pippa's bed. They even took bets as to which of the five young men would turn out to be the father.

But none of them was. Josie's father sent a pretty bouquet, a card with affectionate wording, and an extra check to 'buy her something from me.'' But he didn't come to see her.

Soon after that, Ma's 'rheumatics' grew worse, and Pippa took full-time control of the house. It was the perfect job for her, enabling her to keep Josie with her all the time, with an unlimited supply of willing baby-sitters. For this she received her room and board and enough money to enable her to bank the checks that came from Los Angeles.

Luke might be irresponsible in many ways, but as far as money went, he had never let her down. When his finances improved, so did hers. Over the years her nest egg grew fast, banked in high interest accounts. By the time Ma was ready to retire, Pippa had enough for a deposit, and was able to get a mortgage and buy her out. Luke promptly sent an extra ten thousand dollars to pay for refurbishments.

The place thrived. Pippa could now consider herself a successful businesswoman. Customers poured in, attracted by her high reputation and the excellence of her cooking. She thought wryly that she'd found herself in the same trap as her mother, longing to go wild with imaginative dishes, but catering for those who only wanted 'good, plain food.'

Sometimes she remembered her dream, to be the greatest cook in the world. But that dream seemed very far away now. As far away as Luke himself.

It was eleven years since she'd seen him, although his fast-growing celebrity status meant that she knew what he looked like. He'd grown a little heavier from the lean boy she remembered. He was a man now, but his face was still full of wicked humor and more attractive than any man had the right. The sight of his picture could still make her smile.

The pain had gone, leaving only sweet memories and Josie, a child to delight any mother's heart. On the whole it was a reasonably happy life, until one day, Jake, who'd just passed his medical exams, said, 'Pip, for a woman in her twenties you get breathless far too quickly.'

And suddenly she was a child again, saying, 'Mummy, why are you always out of breath?'

'It's nothing, darling. Nothing at all.'

But three months later her mother had been dead.

'It's nothing, Jake.'

'You're telling me?' he'd demanded with gruff, angry affection. 'When did you go to medical school? What does your doctor say?'

'Well, I haven't actually-'

'Then do it!'

So she had. And what the doctor had told her had been enough to put her on a plane to Los Angeles, to introduce Josie to her father while there was still time.

They were back at Luke's house in half an hour with the bags. Pippa got to work unpacking, 'helped' by Josie, who bounced around getting underfoot until Pippa shooed her out.

'Go and talk to Daddy,' she said brightly.

She kept the smile on her face until Josie had vanished, then sat down suddenly. Behind the laughter, she'd been desperate to send the child away before her gasps for breath became too noticeable. Josie knew only that her mother was occasionally poorly. She had no idea of the severity of her condition, and Pippa wanted to keep it that way until this trip was over. She clutched the end of the brass bedstead while her head swam.

''Not yet,'' she prayed frantically. 'A week. Just give me a week.''

Think about something else. Concentrate hard until it passes. Look around you. See how inviting this room is with its polished wood floor and two brass bedsteads, draped in white. No, don't look at the bed. It'll make you think how much you long to lie down. That's it. You're feeling better now.

Outside, on the balcony, she could hear Josie calling, 'Mummy, look! We're at the seaside.'

Until now Josie had been too preoccupied with meeting her father to have much attention for the scenery, but the full glory of her situation had burst on her all at once.

Luke joined her on the balcony. 'Seaside!' he echoed with mock indignation. 'That's more than just seaside.'

Pippa made her way out to join them. Luke greeted her with a grin. 'Your mom took me to a seaside resort in England once,' he told Josie.

'And you said 'You don't call this a beach, do you?'' Pippa reminded him. 'I grew up on a real beach.''

'And you said, 'Whadda ya mean, 'a real beach'?''