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‘I’ve been seeing Claudine.’
‘Who?’
‘Louise!’
‘OurLouise?’
Jenny nodded. Louise was, of course, the character inSomeone at a Distancewho tempted the leading man into infidelity, the Rita of Harry’s real life.
‘I hope she deserves you. Is she way nicer in real life?’
‘Way. She makes me like myself. You know?’
‘I do. Well, good for you, sweetheart.’ He paused. ‘Does your mom know?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t think she’d be upset. Do you?’
‘I dunno really. I think she’d be surprised. Shocked, maybe. People act like it’s no big deal these days, and that’s all great .?.?. but telling your mom is a whole different thing. It’s not like I think she won’t still love me, but I guess I’m afraid she’ll be disappointed in me.’
While Jenny was speaking, the waiter had discreetly signalled to Harry.
‘Tell her about it,’ he said, putting his hand on Jenny’s shoulder.
Jenny laughed. ‘Like the song?’
‘That’s my girl.’
Harry took a final sip of his drink, then pushed back his chair and slowly got to his feet. ‘My car’s here,’ he said.
‘Let me walk you out.’
‘No, I’m good. You go get your beauty sleep. Tomorrow, we’re off on a grand adventure.’
Despite his protests, Jenny walked at his side to the foyer, and Harry did his best to hide his limp. They stalled just inside the main entrance.
He kissed her on both cheeks, just as he had kissed her mother. ‘Goodnight, sweetheart,’ he said.
Jenny held on to his elbow. ‘I love you, Harry. You know that, don’t you?’
‘I do now, Jen.’ He pulled her closer and kissed her again, this time on her forehead. ‘I love you, too.’
She turned and walked quickly away, and Harry stepped out into the still, balmy night. A black Mercedes was waiting at the kerb. Seeing Harry, the driver stepped out to hold open the passenger door.
Harry’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. It was a message from Caroline – a photograph. He held his index finger up to the driver – wait one minute – and focused on the image. It was a picture of bookshelves – or, more accurately, the many unassembled pieces of bookshelves, lying on the floor.
From behind the camera, a hand stretched out – his daughter’s hand – holding an array of loose screws. Underneath the photo was a one-line message.
Hi Dad. Can you help? Please!
Harry laughed, a warm, sonorous explosion that came from the depths of him, loud enough to make the car driver jump.
‘Are you alright, sir?’ he asked.
Harry clapped him on the back. ‘Never better.’
He felt an elevation of his spirits that he could not have believed possible at the start of the day. His head felt light. It might be down to all that serendipity, he thought, grinning to himself. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was a sensation of leaving the weight of the world behind him. His chest pounded with a blast of emotion, as if his heart had just blown wide open.
