For His Little Girl

'Ice cream?'

'God bless your stomach!' Luke said fervently. 'Ice cream, after candy floss, toffee apple-here.'

'Thanks.'

He sat on the bar stool and watched her eat. 'What's it like living in the guest house, Josie?'

'Nice. Mommy said you used to live there with her.'

'Yes, but that was a while back. I expect it's changed.'

'It's been done up. It's all bright and cheerful now. Would you like to see? I've got some pictures. Hang on.'

She slid quietly back up to the bedroom and returned a moment later with a wad of pictures.

'Mommy brought some, too,' she said, climbing back onto the stool, 'but I don't know where hers are.'

Luke studied the house, which had indeed been transformed, especially the kitchen. Ma's kitchen, he recalled, had been fit only for a museum.

'Who's that?' he asked suddenly, pointing to a man standing with Pippa. They were raising their glasses to each other.

'That's Derek. He's in love with Mommy. He keeps giving her roses. Look, you can see them just behind Mommy's shoulder.'

Peering closely, Luke made out a bunch of vivid red roses. He said nothing.

'And this one's Mark,' Josie said, pressing another photograph in his hand. 'He tests cars for a manufacturer, and he does some racing, only Formula Three, though. He takes Mommy out sometimes and drives her really fast. She likes it. She says it's exciting. Funny.'

'Why is it funny?'

'Well, she's Mommy. Somehow you don't think of your mother finding things exciting.'

'She wasn't always your mother. When I knew her she found everything exciting.'

'What was she like then?'

'Fun,' he said with a little smile. 'She wore these crazy clothes, orange jeans and purple cowboy boots.'

'Mom?' Josie said sceptically. 'Sure you haven't confused her with another girlfriend?'

'Watch it, smarty! Anyway, I didn't have any other girlfriends when I was with her. Somehow, when Pippa was around you never saw anyone else. She just lit up the sky and made all the world as crazy and wonderful as she was.'

He saw Josie's puzzled look and realized that his words made no sense to her. She couldn't relate them to her mother.

'She certainly seems cheerful enough in this one,'' he said, returning to the photos.

Pippa was sitting in an open-topped car, her hair windblown, her face smiling. Beside her sat a man Luke supposed women would have called handsome. He didn't know. There was no accounting for tastes. He handed the picture back.

'And how does Mommy feel?' he asked. 'Does she have any special friends?'

'You mean, anyone who stays all night in her room?'' Josie asked wisely.

He felt himself reddening. 'Urn…yes, I suppose I mean that.'

'Don't think so. I never hear any moaning and groaning.'

'What…what do you know about moaning and groaning?' he demanded, aghast.

'We had a honeymoon couple once, and they-''

'Yes, all right,' he said hastily, adding in a mutter, 'Good grief, if I'd said anything like that to my mother she'd have fainted.'

'It's a new generation, Dad. Things have changed since your day.'

'Get back to bed. You're making me feel ancient.'

'Well, face it, Dad. You were born in the last century.'

He was definitely slipping. She'd vanished before he thought to say, 'So were you!'

When she'd gone he looked at the photos again, wishing the man in the car hadn't been so good-looking, and wondering if he had anything to do with Pippa's rejection of himself. He returned to the front room and sat in darkness, looking out over the sea, trying to shake off a gnawing sadness. It was a feeling he never wasted much time on. If something made him sad, he turned his thoughts in a different direction. But it wasn't so easy this time, and he, the least analytical of men, was being forced to analyze.

It had to do with Josie's bewilderment as he described the young Pippa. To her it had simply been gibberish. She was ten, an age when people stayed in their pigeonholes, and Pippa's pigeonhole was 'Mom,' a sedate woman with headaches and asthma, who told her when to go to bed and often said no. Luke's memories of the bright, beautiful peacock who laughed and squabbled and lived only for the moment when she could fly into his arms would have no meaning for her.

That young girl was fast slipping away. Pippa herself didn't seem to remember much about her. It was only in his own heart that she still lived, flaming with joy and life and making the world a thrilling place.

But he, too, had changed. What had he said on the boat that afternoon? That their blazing sexual harmony had mattered less, in the long term, than the fact that their minds were in tune. He, Luke Dan-ton, superstud extraordinary, had actually said that.

And meant it. Scary!

It was the sort of thing boring Frank might have said, and that alarmed Luke more than anything. It meant he was growing old.

Or up?

He rubbed his eyes, wishing he hadn't start thinking. It made him feel like a bear fending off a swarm of bees, and gave him a headache.

The program went on at eight o'clock in the evening. By five the entire family was in place, consisting of Mom, Pop, Zak and his girlfriend, Becky and her boyfriend. Half an hour later Claudia arrived bearing vintage champagne, and the party was complete.

Luke had outdone himself with supper, preparing one main course and a host of small savories that could be eaten at any time. Josie, who liked nothing better than to be her father's assistant, scurried about performing her tasks efficiently and glowing when she won a word of praise from the boss.

Luke smiled at Pippa, but he didn't ask her to help. She wondered if this was because he was at ease with his daughter in his kitchen as he was with nobody else. Or was he keeping a distance because of last night? It was hard to tell because his manner was friendly, if preoccupied.

By 7:45 the curtains were drawn over the picture window, the VCR was set to record, and everyone was settled in the main room. With a flourish Luke switched on the television, and they sat in an agony of impatience while the last program finished and the ads dragged by.

'This is it,' Luke declared confidently.

But another advertisement came on, and everybody booed. Then the program started, and they all sat in awed silence, the only sound being a long, ecstatic sigh from Josie. When it was over they applauded, and Luke ceremonially presented his daughter with the video.

'I'll have it copied to the European video system before you leave,' he said. 'But this one's in case you wanted to see it again before then.'

'Leave!' Mom said, outraged. 'What's this talk of leaving?'

'We're only here for a week,' Pippa explained, 'and it'll soon be over.'

There was a general outcry. She coped with it as best she could, but as soon as possible she escaped into the kitchen. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she felt faint.

Claudia found her there a few moments later. 'Are you all right?' she asked solicitously.

'Yes, fine. Just a touch of asthma, it gets me sometimes. I was a bit nervous about coming to Los Angeles- everyone's heard of the smog.'

'Sure. Although this part of L.A. is one of the cleanest. Very little air pollution around here.'

'Well, I guess I'm just unusually susceptible.' Pippa smiled valiantly. 'Let's go back to the others.'

Pippa could recall vacations as a child when the week ahead had seemed to stretch to infinity and had gone on doing so until the halfway mark. But once that was passed every day sped by like lightning.

Now it was the same. After the night of the program the few remaining days blurred into each other, and only