Chapter Eleven

Dad

“Think they’ll let us in?” I joked when our taxi stopped in front of the Berkshire Hotel in Bloomsbury.

“I don’t know.” Jade frowned, glancing down. We still had streaks of Scottish mud on our jeans and sneakers. The doorman opened the door for us, giving us a once-over.

We walked across a plush carpet to the desk. “Has Dr. Wolnak checked in yet?” I asked.

“Yes, miss,” said the young receptionist, with the hint of a smile. “He said his daughter would be arriving. Shall I call his room?”

“Yes, please.”

The man spoke into the phone and said, “He’ll be right down.”

We waited, our backpacks at our feet. Even though my father and I hadn’t been getting along so well before I left, now I’d hardly ever wanted to see anyone as much as him. And there he was, hugging me and pulling back to look at me. His reddish-brown hair was slightly longer than when I left, and he had long sideburns, which I didn’t remember. He was dressed in a suit with wide lapels, a red shirt underneath, and a flamboyant tie. “You look good, Sophie,” he said. “How are you?”

“Great, Dad. I’m so glad to see you.” I could feel tears leaking out the corners of my eyes as I stood there grinning stupidly.

Dad turned to Jade, who was waiting shyly beside me. He gave her a hug, too. “How are you, Jade? What have you two been doing?”

“Oh, you know. Traipsing all over Scotland,” Jade said.

“We said good-bye to Natalie this morning,” I said.

“Oh, Natalie. Such a smart girl. I wasn’t sure when you would be arriving, but I made a late reservation for dinner. Do you want to go up to the room?” His blue eyes brimmed with excitement.

“Yeah!” we both said, catching his enthusiasm.

We went up to the fifth floor to a room with two queen-sized beds and sweeping velvet curtains overlooking Bloomsbury Street and the lights of London.

“This is a lot nicer than what we’ve been used to lately, Dad.”

“Good. Why don’t I let you girls get changed?” He handed me his key. “Wash up and put on nice clothes. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so. Is that enough time?”

“Sure,” I said, and he was gone. “He’s on a high,” I said.

“I feel like a queen,” said Jade, stretching out on the bed. “Let’s go check out the bathroom.”

We were scrubbed, at least superficially, and changed when Dad reappeared. I basked in his familiar presence as we walked out into the clear, cool London night, passing the dark mass of the British Museum and the University of London, where Dad had his conference. I linked my elbow in his and grabbed Jade’s arm, too. I felt so safe walking with him. Don’t get used to it; it’s only for two days.

The Queen’s Larder was painted bright green with little latticed windows. We were shown to a table near the bar, which was made of dark wood with twinkling rows of glasses overhead. There was something very cozy about London pubs and restaurants.

“Good thing I made a reservation,” Dad said.

“How are things at home?” I asked.

“Fine. You should write more often. Your mother looks for your postcards every day.”

“Well, they take a long time to get there,” I said defensively. “I wrote her from Paris. Did you get that one?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“And one from Scotland. I’m working on a letter for you to take home with you for Mom.”

“That’s good. We all miss you, Sophie. Anne and Stan talk about you every day.”

“What about Joey? Has he forgotten me?”

“Are you kidding? He still cries for you to read him stories before bed.”

I listened as Dad related more news from home then asked, “So how’s your trip going?” I took a deep breath. I wanted to be honest with him, but I knew I couldn’t tell him about the beach. It was nice to see him so happy; I didn’t want to upset him. And my mother was anxious enough as it was.

Instead, I gave him a detailed version of our time in Scotland. I told a little about Montpellier but let him assume we’d stayed at the dorm both nights. I even told him about the lesbians in Paris.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, they sound nice.”

“Yeah, Dad, Annik and Kari are great! We had the best time with them.” Dad beamed at me. He has no clue. Why should he since I’ve never talked about it?

“It’s good you’re doing this, Sophie. Travel is a great education.” He smiled hesitantly. “We pray for you every night.”

“What do you pray for?”

“Mostly that you’re safe. So what would you like to do now?”

“Aren’t you tired, Daddy? Didn’t you just get in today?”

“Yesterday. I’m fine. Maybe you’d like a night-time tour of London?” he asked eagerly.

“Sure, we’d love it.”

We took the taxi tour all over London that night, getting out briefly at a few places: Trafalgar Square, London Bridge, Saint Paul’s. We crossed the bridge toward Big Ben and the houses of Parliament, which were all lit up, reflecting in the inky Thames. Lighted fountains and monuments passed in the taxi window until they all became a blur.

I awoke several times to Dad’s familiar snores, feeling like a girl sleeping safe and protected in her little room at home.

aaAA

I was surprised the next morning to see that Jade was already up. How late was it? Dad had left already for his conference, and the sun shone through a crack in the heavy draperies. I could hear her in the bathroom, splashing around. I didn’t want to move, as though jet lag had finally claimed me. I felt more like cocooning than sightseeing. Jade came out and bounced around the room, fresh and eager. One thing about Jade was her robust energy and enthusiasm for life. This was not always good, from my point of view, especially first thing in the morning.

“I’m tired of being a tourist,” I moaned, over our breakfast in the dining room. Jade looked up from her London guidebook in surprise. “I think I have PMS,” I said.

“I thought you wanted to see the tower today.”

“I don’t want to see anything today. I’d rather go back to bed.”

Jade looked shocked. “But, Sophie. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Well, you’re a big girl. Why can’t you go by yourself?”

Jade frowned. “But I want you to come. It won’t be much fun seeing all those spooky rooms by myself!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll go to the tower, but then I’m coming back here to rest and maybe catch up on my correspondence.”

“Okay. I can go to the other places by myself. I know how to use the tube. Do you still want to go dancing tonight?”

“I guess.”

“You don’t have to.” Jade pouted.

“No, I’ll be into it by tonight.”

The gloomy Tower of London did nothing to improve my mood. I left Jade on her way to London Bridge and Madame Tussauds wax museum. I needed some time to myself. I decided to walk part of the way to Bloomsbury, getting off the Bakerloo line at Piccadilly. I knew the oldest bookstore in London was supposed to be near there.

It was a cool fall day, more like home than any day so far. I found Hatchards bookstore and browsed around. It seemed silly to buy French books in London. There would be so much more choice in Paris. But I needed to start reading for school, even if it was just books I picked out for fun. Besides, Dad had slipped me twenty pounds last night. I bought a book of poetry: Les Fleurs du Mal by Baudelaire, a mystery by Mauriac, and the novel Bonjour Tristesse, by Françoise Sagan.

Passing through the lobby back at the hotel, I almost hurried past my father, who was sitting and laughing raucously with some other dark-suited men and one woman. His face was pink and he was smoking a cigarette! I couldn’t believe it. Dad had quit smoking years ago, or so I’d thought. I’d seen only prim photos of him and his colleagues standing in line with their conference badges or having dinners in dim restaurants. Occasionally Mom was with him. What would she say if she saw him now?

I waved. After he had introduced me and the conversation resumed, I leaned close. “Why don’t you come dancing with us tonight, Dad? Please?”

“Oh, I’m too old for the kind of places you go.”

“No, you’re not. You look very hip.”

“Oh, well, maybe I will,” he said, taking a drag. “This is just between us, right?” He waved his cigarette. “I always quit as soon as I get home.”

I laughed. “Your secret is safe with me, Dad.”

Up in our room, I forced myself to start on my letter to Mom about Paris and Scotland. I wrote that she shouldn’t worry and repeated my school address for her to send me the money.

After that, I took a long bath. I could get used to this, I thought, lying full length in the roomy tub, viewing the room through steam. There were thick towels and bathrobes, all white. I loved the color white. The snow at home was soft and pristine when it first fell. It reminded me of the conversation about weddings and veils we’d had in the pub.

I climbed out of the tub, dried off, and wrapped the white robe around me. Under the covers, I imagined myself in a long white dress and veil, falling into a huge drift of snow. The snow was as soft as a feather pillow and as I snuggled down, Geneviève’s arms encircled and held me. I drifted into sleep.

The door opened and I heard a thump of something landing on the desk. “Hi, honey,” Dad said. “I’m done with my session. How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” I smiled from my pillow. I slowly sat up and slid my legs over the side of the bed.

“I wondered why you came back so soon,” he said. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m just tired.” Looking at his cheery face, I remembered that this was our last day together. “Maybe I’m kind of down because you’re leaving tomorrow and Jade’s going home the day after. I’ll be all alone.” My father reached down and held me. I could smell a whiff of tobacco along with his spicy cologne. “I don’t know if I can really do this, Dad.” He looked at me, his brow furrowed. “I mean it, Dad. I don’t think I can do it.”

He gave me another squeeze. “You can, Sophie. You’re my daughter. I know you can do it with flying colors.”

aaAA

At the club that evening, the strobe made people look like they were moving twice as fast as they were. Dad’s movements were more deliberate than Jade’s or mine, but he was clearly having a good time. I thought of that night at Club 18 and slow dancing with Geneviève. What will it be like seeing her again? Will I still be attracted to her? I thought so, the way she kept dropping into my mind, startling my heart each time. But will she still want me? No way to know that until I see her in Paris.

I felt a little dizzy and sat down. What in the world was wrong with me? I was tired, despite my nap this afternoon. I was about to get my period, that’s what. A terrifying dagger of a thought shot through me. When was my period due, anyway? I think it should have come sometime while we were in Scotland.