Lucy made another promise to keep the Indonesians in the loop before she hung up. Turned to her father who was shaking his head slowly, gazing at her as though unable to believe his eyes.
‘Lucy.’
Thanks to being on the phone when he’d arrived, her emotions were more settled and she could look at him now with a degree of self-control.
‘Dad.’
He opened his arms and waggled his fingers just as he used to do to encourage her to leap into his embrace.
She felt a rush of affection – love? – but took a step back.
‘Oh, come on,’ he teased. ‘Can’t you give your old man a hug?’
The child in her was begging to be hugged, but the adult was resentful and bitter until she remembered why she was here. You nearly died last year. You made yourself a promise…
‘You bastard,’ she said, but her tone was tempered. She was shaking her head as she stepped into his embrace.
He held her close, a proper hug, and she felt him press a kiss on the top of her head. She shut her eyes briefly. Squeezed him back. It felt strange and slightly weird – the only men she’d hugged in the past twenty years had been Nate, her ex, and then Mac – but it also felt absolutely right.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he told her.
‘You’re older.’
‘Thanks a bunch!’ He stepped back and for a moment she thought he was insulted but the beam was still there. ‘Glad to know you haven’t changed. You’re just as forthright.’
They stood looking at one another for a moment. He’d nicked himself shaving and out of nowhere she remembered standing in the bathroom doorway when she was a kid, hearing him curse, watching him reach for a piece of loo paper, sticking it on top of the nick, his eyes going to hers and saying occupational hazard. He’d winked and she’d trotted off, probably to have a bowl of cornflakes before school.
Her throat closed up. She didn’t want to cry and as she lifted her chin he glanced away, clearing his throat. He pointed at the coffee bar. ‘So, what’s your poison? Cappuccino? Or are you a latte girl? Or… dear God. Are you into herbal teas?’ He reared back in mock-horror.
The lump in her throat immediately began to dissolve beneath an involuntary chuckle.
‘What’s wrong with herbal tea?’
He widened his eyes. ‘Please, don’t tell me you’re one of those vegan crazies.’ He made it sound scandalous. ‘My own daughter…’ He put a hand on his chest as though he might be struggling to breathe. He was, she realised, giving her emotional space.
‘Not vegan,’ she assured him. ‘Not even vegetarian. My favourite food is steak and chips, and second to that, curry.’
‘That’s my girl.’ He looked proud.
Together they walked to the coffee bar. Two cappuccinos. Both sprinkled with chocolate. Both ordered chocolate puff pastry twists. Without conferring, both of them moved to stand at the bar rather than take a table.
‘So…’ she started, at the same time as he said, ‘How on earth …’
They both stopped. Gave half-embarrassed laughs.
‘What’s in America?’ Lucy decided on something less incendiary than where the fuck have you been for the last eighteen years?
He gave a shrug. ‘I’m a salesman. I sell.’
She waited.
‘I’m in the stamped components trade. The company I currently work for is a specialist manufacturer of non-metallic strips and sheets. Things like washers, gaskets and seals. Exciting, huh?’ His mouth gave a self-deprecating twist.
‘I don’t know, is it?’
‘Well, since I’ll be meeting the sales director of General Motors tomorrow, I guess it could be worse…’
Had he always been a salesman? She couldn’t remember him doing anything else when she was a kid. He could sell anything, from an idea to the plastic carrier bag you were currently holding and didn’t know you wanted to buy all over again. Jaya used to laugh: Your dad could sell curry to us Indians!
He’d been salesman of the year several times. Whenever he reached his sales targets he’d blaze into the house waving tickets to a concert, a weekend away, shouting about his success and wanting his girls to help him splash the cash! Once he’d even swept her and Mum off to Disney World in Florida. They’d stayed in a really flash hotel with a balcony overlooking a savannah which had antelopes, giraffes and zebras grazing, safari-style. Being addicted to The Lion King at the time, Lucy had thought she’d died and gone to heaven.
While they ate their pastries, he told her about his job and she told him about hers. Both gave rough outlines. Few details. Anyone listening in would have thought both of them had the most boring jobs in the world. We’re being cagey, Lucy thought, which isn’t surprising after so long, but we really should get a bit personal. He’s my dad, after all.
She’d already clocked he didn’t wear a wedding ring but now she said, ‘Did you get married again?’
He pulled a face. ‘No.’
She took a breath, steeled herself for the next question that had been burning in her oesophagus. ‘I don’t have any half-brothers or half-sisters?’
He held her eyes as he said again, ‘No.’
‘What happened to Tina?’
‘The yoga teacher?’ He sighed. ‘It was all a mess. Your mum went nuts… she turned into a crazy person.’ He shuddered. ‘I hadn’t wanted to leave. You girls were my world… Christ, I loved you, I loved your mum – but she gave me no choice.’
Lucy stared. This wasn’t the story she’d heard.
‘She threw my belongings out onto the street, remember?’
No, Lucy couldn’t remember. She only knew he’d left one day for the airport. That her mother had been furiously angry, then upset, then angry, then upset again. She’d heard her crying, sobbing her heart out in the middle of the night. She’d seen her reddened eyes in the morning. Watched her put her shoulders back and set her chin and head to the divorce solicitor.
‘Including my vinyl collection. It was raining. She left
