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‘How do you know I haven?
?t told him?’ she gasped, as the indignation turned to outrage.
‘Because Lizzie talks about her kid brother to me. How do you think?’ He sent her a level stare that dared her to lie about it. And suddenly she knew exactly what it must be like to be interviewed by him.
‘You mean, she bitches about him to you,’ she said, redirecting the conversation. She wasn’t about to talk to Luke about Claudio.
And she could just imagine what Lizzie had to say to her father about Aldo. The thought made her feel instantly protective of her son.
‘You know, it would be really helpful if you didn’t humour her on that score,’ she continued. ‘Aldo’s had a few problems with his behaviour and he hasn’t found it easy to make friends since we moved to Notting Hill, but …’ She wheeled her hand, only too aware she was Aldo’s only cheerleader. ‘But he responded well to anger management CBT, he’s got a terrific au pair now and he’s doing OK.’
The guilt, which was never far away, tightened around her ribs like a vice. If she’d let Lizzie down by giving her a father who had once abandoned her, she’d let Aldo down more by giving him a father who couldn’t care less about him.
‘He’s just a child and he only has me to fight his corner—’
‘Lizzie doesn’t bitch about him to me,’ Luke cut into her passionate defence of her son. ‘Or not more than she bitches about everyone. She is a teenage girl, after all.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ How could that be true? When her daughter never missed an opportunity to bitch about her brother to his face, and hers?
‘You should,’ he said simply. ‘When she talks about Aldo, it’s usually because she’s worried about him, or mad with someone on his behalf. She loves him.’
Halle gulped her lemonade and let the tart sweetness ease her dry throat, caught halfway between the happy glow his revelation created and dismay at the implication that Luke might know more about Lizzie’s feelings towards Aldo than she did.
She ran her thumb through the beads of perspiration on the lemonade tumbler. ‘Perhaps I should give my daughter more credit.’
And maybe I should have given you more credit, too.
‘Our daughter,’ Luke said, his lips lifting in a gentle smile. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re doing the best you can. And however much bitching she does about you, or to you, Lizzie knows that.’
‘Does she? Sometimes I think she hates me.’ The confession tumbled out before she could prevent it.
‘She’s giving you grief because she can,’ he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. ‘All kids do it. It’s called growing up.’
The family counsellor had told her something similar, but she’d never been able to believe it. And she didn’t now. Easy for Luke to say, when he had been spared their daughter’s taunts and tantrums.
‘If that’s true, why doesn’t she give you the same grief?’ she said, as all the insecurities she’d worked so hard to suppress crept out of the shadows.
‘Because she doesn’t trust me the way she trusts you, Hal.’
‘I doubt that. You’re Super Dad, remember.’
He gave a hollow half laugh. ‘Yeah, I know. Which used to be great. But it’s not any more.’
‘Why not? I’d rather be Super Dad than Crap Mum.’
‘Would you?’ He glanced at her, the wistful expression for once unguarded. ‘I don’t even know what she was in therapy for a year ago.’
‘She didn’t talk to you about it?’ How could that be possible, when she’d always assumed Lizzie confided in her father all the things she refused to speak about to her?
He shook his head. ‘She let slip that she’d been in counselling. And that was as much as I could get out of her.’ He fiddled with one of the chicken bones, the sun casting his face into shadow. ‘I’ve been crapping myself about it ever since.’
‘Oh.’ He sounded genuinely worried. And even more insecure than her.
‘But unfortunately I’m Super Dad, which basically means I’m Superficial-Can’t-Be-Trusted-With-Lizzie’s-Secrets Dad, too.’
The vehemence of his statement surprised her even more.
Part of her wanted to seize on the irony and point out to Luke that Lizzie’s secrets were not nearly as legion as his own. But the hopelessness on his face stopped her. Was it possible that Luke had struggled, too? That all the pernicious envy, which she had never really acknowledged, about his role as Super Dad in Lizzie’s life had been misplaced?
