by Susan Lewis
'Oh darling, it'll happen,'Julia assured her, drawing her into an embrace. 'You're so beautiful it can't not.'
'But even the mingers in school have got boys after them. It's so embarrassing, being the only one who never gets asked out or anything. It's just not
fair, because when my friends talk about the things they've done I can't ever join in. I haven't even ever been kissed, and some of them have gone all the way already.'
Pressing her lips to the top of Shannon's head, Julia rocked her from side to side. I know it's hard,' she whispered, 'but you don't want anything to happen with someone unless he's the right one, do you?'
'No.' Shannon's head came up to look into Julia's face. 'Was Dad the first man you ever slept with?' she asked.
Julia thought fast. 'That's a question for another time,' she said, smoothing her hair.
'Which means he wasn't.'
Julia fixed her with a meaningful look. 'Come on, or you'll be late,' she said.
'But it's all about sex, really, isn't it?' Shannon persisted. 'Dad doesn't want me to go out with anyone because he's afraid I'll have sex with them.'
'Certainly it's a concern,' Julia admitted.
'But you wouldn't mind if I had sex, would you? You gave me the condoms ...'
'I would mind a great deal,' Julia interrupted. 'I gave you the condoms so you'd know what they are, or in case you found yourself in a situation that ... Well, let's just hope you don't find yourself in such a situation. And whatever happens, you mustn't let Dad know I gave them to you.'
Shannon squeezed her hard. 'I love you so much, Mum. You're the best mum in all the world.'
'Can I quote that next time you're yelling at me for not allowing you your own way over something?'
Shannon's lovely blue eyes seemed more earnest than amused as she said, 'I think Dad really loves you too, Mum. I don't think he's sleeping with anyone else.'
Julia's heart twisted. 'You've been eavesdropping,' she said, cupping Shannon's face in her hands.
'Only a bit. I wish you'd be nicer to him.'
Julia smiled and shook her head. 'What a mixed-up lot we are,' she sighed. 'Me trying to sort you out, you trying to sort me and Dad out...'
'Oh yuk! Is this a girlie love-in?' Dan protested from the door.
'Not exclusively,' Julia responded, holding out an arm. 'Certain boys can join in.'
'No thanks,' he replied. Then abruptly changing his mind, he charged towards them like a bull, and caught them both round the waist.
'And you want a boyfriend?' Julia said to Shannon as they staggered against the sink.
'Not one like him,' Shannon retorted, and grabbing Dan by the ears she planted a resounding kiss on his cheek before flashing off up the stairs.
'OK, so what's on your agenda today, young man?' Julia said, starting to put the breakfast cereals away. 'Do you have any sports?'
Dan's face fell. I don't know. I lost my agenda,' he said bleakly.
Julia rolled her eyes in exasperation. 'Dan, term only started a week ago, you can't have lost it already.'
He hung his head. 'I didn't mean to,' he said.
With a sinking heart Julia realised that someone had probably stolen it as a prank, hidden it, and
now he couldn't find it 'We'll get you another,' she said gently 'Then just make sure you hang onto it.' 'Can we look up that butterfly now?' he asked. 'Dad's computer's on. We can use his.'
As she followed him into Josh's hallowed territory that they all regularly invaded, she found her thoughts going back to the mysterious telephone call and wondered if it really had been her father - and if it had, why he would be in touch now, after all these years. It was bizarre, and such a shock she wasn't entirely sure she'd taken it in. Maybe she'd ring her sister, see if he'd tried to call her, though she knew she wouldn't, because if Pam hadn't heard anything the old rivalry would begin again. And if Pam had ...
A memory of her father's face cut off the thought, his soft grey-blue eyes, long nose, square chin and high forehead. He'd always seemed to be laughing, never cross, unfailingly interested in what she was saying, or ready to take part in her new adventures. She tried to hear the sound of his voice, the playfulness and laughter; his pleasure when she did well and concern when she didn't. It was all there somewhere, along with the feelings of love and contentment, the excitement and eagerness to please. She just couldn't seem to reach past all the closed doors between now and then to find it.
'Sometimes it feels as though I'm not a real person any more,' Julia was confessing to Sylvia later. 'It's as though I've come adrift from myself and my family and I'm not sure how it happened, or how to find my way back.'
Sylvia's perfect eyebrows arched with irony. 'You're forty and a mother,' she responded lightly. 'Crises go with the territory.'
Humour sparked in Julia's eyes as she said, 'You're always such a comfort to me, Sylvie. How would I manage without you?'
As Sylvia looked up from the bottle she was opening, she was smiling in the affectionate, teasing way Julia knew so well, for they'd been friends since their early twenties, and though they'd made very different life choices back then, they'd always remained as close as their conflicting commitments would allow. Surprisingly, they'd hardly ever considered each other as rivals, for in spite of both being beauties and sharing the ambition to write, they'd never had the same taste in men, and Julia knew very well that to begrudge Sylvia her success as an author would certainly do nothing to enhance her own. Besides, she was far too fond of Sylvia to wish her anything but good, and was even delighted by the added success she'd been enjoying lately with her highly unusual ceramics. It was why she'd taken this bijou mews house in Notting Hill, to be in a more bohemian environment, which Julia found both amusing and intriguing, for Sylvia, with her haute-couture wardrobe and aversion to even the slightest muddle, had always been the epitome of Chelsea chic and stylish living up till now.
'You'll get through this,' Sylvia assured her, 'you love each other too much not to.'
Liking the sound of that, Julia watched as she pulled the cork from the bottle, and thought how lovely she looked in the sunlight that was
streaming through the open French windows. It was turning her long, silky blonde hair to a silvery mane, and shrouding her in the kind of light that made Julia understand why some referred to her as the ice maiden, for everything about her seemed impenetrably cool and collected, and aloof almost to the point of disdain. Julia knew, however, that passions ran very deeply beneath that perfect facade, for Sylvia's love affairs had been many and tempestuous, and if there was a lover who'd been willing to let her go when she'd decided to move on, Julia was at a loss to remember him now.
'Is Pauline still joining us?' Julia asked, reaching into a cupboard for glasses as Sylvia made ready to pour.
'As far as I'm aware,' Sylvia replied. 'She should be here any minute,' and after filling three glasses she handed one to Julia before picking up another for herself.
'I miss seeing you,' she said, gazing directly into Julia's eyes. 'You don't come often enough ... OK, I know you have demands on you, but you really ought to take more time for yourself. You look in need.'
Julia sighed and grimaced. 'I feel it,' she confessed, 'and believe me, there's nothing I'd like more than to come here for at least two weeks to indulge myself in us, being a woman, pretending to be a writer ...'
'Is there any news about your book?' Sylvia cut in gently.
Julia assumed a defeated smile, and clinked their glasses. 'Let's drink to you,' she said, 'and be thankful that at least one of us is living the dream.'
Sylvia was about to respond when the doorbell ring. 'It'll work out,' she said, giving Julia's hand a quick squeeze, 'I know it will,' and putting her glass down she crossed the open-plan living room to buzz Pauline in through the workshop downstairs.
As Julia watched her, she was admiring the shimmering turquoise wrap that seemed to float behind her like a cloud and the matching bikini underneath that sa
t so smoothly on her slender hips and over her neat, unpretentious breasts that it might almost have been a part of her. Then with no small dismay she found herself reflecting on how long it had been since she'd felt that willing to show off her figure, even though the dress she was wearing now complemented it and her legs quite beautifully - she was just lacking the confidence to exploit it, the way she used to.
On returning to the kitchenette Sylvia began unwrapping the tapas she'd picked up at the deli, while Julia carried plates and cutlery out to the small roof terrace where the table was already partly laid. 'Is Pauline seeing anyone at the moment?' she called back over her shoulder.
'Not that I'm aware of,' Sylvia answered. 'She didn't mention anything when we spoke last night, but you know Pauline, everything could have changed between then and now.'
Smiling, Julia stepped back into the room, and was about to return to the kitchenette when she spotted a large, harp-shaped porcelain vase she hadn't seen before. 'Sylvie, this is exquisite,' she declared, going to it. 'The shape is so unusual. So delicate. I take it it's one of yours?'
Sylvia's eyes shone with pleasure as she nodded.
'Can I pick it up?'
'Of course.'
Julia was about to do so, when she remembered how much Josh had paid for Sylvia's last piece, which they'd bought - at discount - at one of her exhibitions. Deciding not to risk it, she stood back to admire it where it was, while imagining how lovely it would look gracing a plinth in their drawing room, along with the several others they now owned.
'Going back to how you're feeling about yourself, and your family,' Sylvia said, licking oil from her fingers.
'No, let's talk about when your next book is being published,' Julia cut in. 'It must be quite soon now.'
'Actually, not until the beginning of November, but review copies will go out in advance, so let's hope they treat me gently.'
Julia smiled, for critics and public alike usually adored Sylvia's psychological thrillers, and she couldn't imagine this latest would be treated any differently. 'Have you started a new one yet?' she asked.
Sylvia shook her head. 'No, I'm taking a year off to focus on my ceramics,' she answered, looking across the room as a large bunch of flowers entered, followed by a striking, deeply tanned woman, with gleaming white teeth and a perfectly toned body.
'Julia!' Pauline cried, casting the bouquet aside. 'Sylvie told me you were coming. How lovely to see you. It's been too long.'
'At feast a month,' Julia smiled, looking into Pauline's lively brown eyes and feeling happier than ever about being here. She embraced her warmly, then cupped her pixie-like face between her hands. 'How come you never age?' she demanded. 'You still look the right side of thirty, for God's sake, and you're older than me.'
'Hey, you're the beauty amongst us,' Pauline protested, in the cultured Bostonian accent that had served her well over two decades in London. 'Mine's all Botox, highlights and a sadistic personal trainer. You look fabulous, my love.'
Julia cast her a sceptical glance. 'I've put on at least half a stone, my hair needs some serious attention and ...'
'At your height half a stone means nothing. And stop with the self-criticism. You look gorgeous, so accept the compliment and revel in it. I know this one will,' she added, holding her arms out to Sylvia. 'You look so scrumptiously unattainable, my darling, I'd tumble into bed with you right now if I was that way inclined.'
'How much easier life might be if we all were,' Sylvia responded, kissing her on both cheeks. 'Now, you've come at the right time, because Julia's having a midlife crisis and she needs our help.'
'Are you really?' Pauline cried, all fascination and concern. 'You know, my second husband was a psychiatrist... Where's the wine?'
Sylvia passed her a glass and left them discussing the woes of becoming forty while she finished preparing lunch and carried it out to the terrace. Then, once they were all settled in amongst
a forest of succulent pot plants and the riotous colours of more flowers than there was room for, she said, 'I didn't catch everything you were saying just now, so has Julia told you her second book hasn't been accepted?'
Pauline's eyes filled with sympathy as she turned to Julia.
'Please don't let's go there,' Julia protested. 'Everything about my life is a mess at the moment so I'd rather forget it.. .'
'Hey, come on,' Pauline interrupted. 'It's a big deal. Don't just brush it away. It hurts like hell to go through something like that.'
Realising that nothing ever hurt quite so much when she was sharing it with her friends, Julia said, 'But I have to ask myself, is it crushing because I truly believe in myself as a writer, or because I'm trying to be somebody in my own right and it's not working out?'
'But you are somebody,' Sylvia declared, offering her a plate of plump jalapeno-stuffed olives. 'A very important somebody as far as Josh and the kids are concerned. And your friends too.'
'But I need to be somebody for me,' Julia responded forcefully, as she helped herself. 'I know it sounds corny and cliched, but everything I am, everything I have, is down to Josh. I haven't achieved anything myself ... OK, I know you're going to remind me of the kids again, and of what a support I've been to Josh, but that's all happened because of him, not in spite of him, and I'm just feeling the need to have something of my own - something that no-one can take away, because it's all mine.'
Pauline was looking at her quizzically. 'Now that's a scream for independence, if ever I heard one,' she commented. 'Which has to mean you're feeling insecure. Do you ever dream about losing your car?'
Julia looked surprised. 'Actually, yes I do from time to time,' she confessed.
Pauline shrugged. 'It's a symbol of independence, gets you from one place to another, you're in control... You lose it, you lose control. I'm sure you're getting the picture.'
'Does Josh know how you're feeling?' Sylvia asked.
Julia gave an incredulous laugh. 'Are you kidding? You know it's playing havoc with our sex life - at least I assume that's what's behind my reticence - and now I keep worrying about how, if he left me, I'd have nothing. I don't do anything to support myself...'
'You're a brilliant editor,' Pauline protested. 'Everyone knows you'd be running McKenzies by now if you hadn't gone freelance.'
'I haven't had a serious commission in over two years,' Julia reminded her. 'Anyway, let's stop this. I don't want to squander our precious time together talking about me, tell me what wildly hedonistic adventures you've been having.'
Sylvia frowned. 'If you've got a problem, what else are friends for?' she said gently.
Julia felt absurdly emotional for a moment, and lowered her eyes.
'Don't keep it bottled up,' Sylvia pressed.
Julia swallowed and reached for her wine.
'Actually, I have some other news,' she said. 'I think my father might have called this morning,'
At that, Sylvia's glass stopped in mid-air and Pauline put down her fork. After exchanging glances they both sat back in their chairs.
'What do you mean, might have called?' Pauline prompted, as Julia tore off a morsel of bread and dipped it in a dish of truffle-flavoured oil.
'Someone called, and told Shannon he was her grandfather, my father, but by the time I got to the phone he'd rung off.'
'You sound as though you're not convinced it was him,' Sylvia said curiously.
Julia shrugged. 'I've got no way of knowing.'
'But why would anyone pretend to be?'
'I've no idea,' Julia responded and continued to eat.
Sylvia was frowning thoughtfully as she leaned forward to help herself to a sliver of quiche. 'It must be over twenty years since he left,' she said, 'so why now?'
'Twenty-four and a half, actually,' Julia said. 'Not that I'm counting. I'm way over it.'
Sylvia looked at her askance.
Julia laughed. 'I've had the therapy, dealt with the abandonment, so I'm ... What am I?'
'Totally cool about the wa
y he skipped out of your life without a word of warning or explanation, and never contacted any of you again?' Sylvia suggested.
'Something like that.'
'Remind me again when you last tried to contact him?' Pauline said.
'It was just after Shannon was born. I felt so
proud, and I wanted him to see her, so Josh got on the case, and I'm sure if we'd kept at it we'd have found him, but then I lost my nerve and made him stop.'
'Why?' Pauline asked.
'Probably because I'm afraid of finding out things I'd rather not know.'
'Such as?'
'Like I said, I'd rather not know.'
Sylvia turned to sit sideways and as she crossed her legs her wrap fell open to the waist, revealing her slim, tanned thighs and perfectly toned tummy. 'Have you told your mother about the call?' she asked, continuing to eat.
Julia shuddered, and for a moment the sun seemed to disappear as fearsome images of her mother shouting and slapping her, blaming her for her father's desertion, ripped out from the shadows. Quickly she pushed them away again, for it wasn't a time of her life she ever cared to revisit.
'Was he depressed before he left?' Pauline asked. 'Had something happened? Do you remember any rows, or anything like that?'
'There was one huge row, not long before he went,' Julia admitted. 'I'm not sure what it was about, I just remember my mother telling him he was sick and ...' She broke off quickly. 'He ended up with cuts and bruises all over his face and a fractured rib, I think. I don't know if they spoke to each other again after that, they certainly slept in separate beds. Then one morning he left for work and never came back.'
'And never tried to contact you again?'
'Not that I know of. My mother might have kept
it from us, but he could always have tried another way, if he'd wanted to.'
