It was a quiet night. They had caught a taxi back from Shoreditch after lunch with the McCalisters and had a leisurely afternoon, then a light dinner from room service. Trudy went on a walk, and Kate and Billy were taking in a movie in the room. Adam watched her in the darkness, across the suite snuggled in with Billy, patiently viewing an animated film she had no interest in. He wanted to tell her he planned on informing the HGI representative assigned to him that he wouldn’t be attending the conference at Number 10 in the morning. He knew that Kate would once again explain that it was a horrible mistake and wouldn’t want him to cancel. He couldn’t make her understand that he didn’t trust Heaton, that something seemed off about the entire affair, so he finally gave up on any notion of even trying. He quietly left the room.
He needed some fresh air, needed to think.
The lobby was empty and calm. For the most part the guests were all checked in and up in the rooms for the night. The freshly mopped floors smelled like disinfectant and overly scented floral soap. There was a young man, Ronnie, a clerk at the front desk—a South African, nicely dressed in a suit and tie. Ronnie inquired if there was anything he could do to assist Adam. Adam explained that he was just going for some air, and he left the hotel, crossing into the tree-lined square.
He paced leisurely on the dirt walkway that wrapped around from leafy corner to corner. Halfway across he looked ahead and saw two young people passionately embraced, making out on a park bench. It was quite romantic, backlit in fact, and would have been like something on a postcard if only the young lady weren’t his sixteen-year-old daughter.
“Trudy?… Trudy? Hello?”
He headed over to the bench. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with at that point. Trudy and the young French boy quickly uncoupled, as if they had each been told the other one had leprosy.
“Daddy. Hello. Hi … you know Étienne?”
“No, I don’t think Étienne and I have had the pleasure.”
He was an incredibly handsome young boy; he actually looked older than a teenager. He was nervous; his voice cracked as he stood and shook Adam’s hand. He had a warm, thick accent and spoke a cute, almost comical version of broken English.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I believe that you and my mother are working in the same company, yes?”
“Yes, I believe we are.” Adam towered over the young man and enjoyed the height advantage he had. He wanted the boy to be afraid of him. “Why don’t you run back into the hotel, Étienne? Find your mother. I’d like to speak to my daughter alone.”
“Yes, of course. I will do that. Again, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tatum.” He was gone as fast as he could possibly move his body. Trudy wouldn’t look her father in the eye. She was too upset. Adam sat down on the bench with her.
“That was rude, Daddy.”
“Good. It’s my job sometimes to be a little rude.”
“Yeah, well, you acted like you enjoyed it.”
“I didn’t. Trust me. I get no joy out of seeing you behave like that. You’re too young, Trudy. I don’t see why you’re in such a hurry to grow up.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She was sullen, still not looking at her father. She had her mother’s beauty, the same blue eyes and glowing skin. She had a way about her that made her sometimes appear older than a teenager, but she wasn’t: she was a baby as far as he was concerned. A talented, bright girl, she had a wonderful singing voice that no one ever heard because she was too shy to sing in front of people. She had done well in school, well in her studies, at least until the last few years when she turned inward, wasn’t as warm and open as she used to be, and she began to be focused on boys to the exclusion of anything else. He was crazy about his little girl.
They sat there in silence. He finally turned to her and spoke in a tone to let her know he needed her on his side of any argument he was in with her mother.
“Trudy, I want you to stick close to us while we’re here in London. I’m not sure what’s going on. I know your mother doesn’t agree with me, but for a variety of reasons that I can’t go into I don’t feel safe here.”
“What are you talking about, Daddy? Don’t be silly. London’s the safest city in the world.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. We’re safe. Grandpa’s looking out for us anyway, him and the whole ‘company’ or whatever.”
“I just need your help right now. I need you to stay close.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Yes, you do, Trudy. You do. You are one incredibly bright young lady. You know what I mean.”
“Mom says you want to leave. Quit your job. Get out of that thing tomorrow. The thing you came here for. She says you hate Poppa. Is that all true?”
“No. I don’t hate Poppa. That’s ridiculous.”
“She thinks you’re not all there sometimes. Because of what you did, what it did to us, she says you’re paranoid or something.” He moved a little closer, put his arm around her. She leaned back and slid into his side, resting her head easily on her father’s shoulder.
“I’m not mad at you, Daddy. I never really was. I just never understood it. I was sad for you, but I was never mad.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” They sat there quietly again, breathing in the gentle calm of the foggy night air.
“Why did you do it, Daddy? I know you didn’t really want to hurt anyone. I know that, I do, but why did you get involved?”
In all the time, before, during, and since his troubles, he and Trudy had never had a private talk about them. He really didn’t like to discuss them. He was tired of the whole subject, but she deserved an answer—he knew the weight she had had to bear for his transgressions.
“I had quit my job the year before, as you know. I had too much free time. I got involved with union politics, spent too much time at the protest rallies.”
“I remember. Mom said it was a phase, that it would pass.”
“When the governor wanted to pass a law that would basically weaken union power across the board, weaken the worker, the very group that made Michigan the great state it was, I was in shock. I really was.”
“I know all this. What I mean is, why? I know all about it. I even know you only were trying to scare the governor, who was a new guy in politics and someone who you and the other union guys thought would buckle under if you scared him. I know all about that. I read it all online and Mom has told me all of that. What I don’t get is really why you did it. It’s so not you. Why would you do something so dangerous? So illegal? Did someone want to give you money or something?”
“No. It wasn’t about money.”
“Then what was it about?”
It was a good question. He had asked himself that one, too. He had answered it with so many lies. “Tales of stupidity,” “alcoholic consumption,” “false bravado,” “following the crowd,” but they were all lies. If he was going to tell anyone the truth, he was going to tell Trudy. Finally.
“I wanted to be special. I wanted to do something special.”
“You are special, Daddy.”
“Maybe I didn’t feel special. I want to be more than just a dumb Ann Arbor detective, more than my father. I wanted to be part of history, someone who would and could live or die for the things that were important to him. I wanted to test myself, Trudy. Test my character.” He stroked her hair softly as he spoke; she nestled further into his side.
“I fooled myself, sweetie. Convinced myself that what we were doing would change the history of the workers, like the original strikers back in the old days at the Ford Highland Park plant. I fooled myself … thought I had found a shortcut to greatness. Does that make any sense?”
“Kind of, but not really.”
“All it got me was sent to the back of the line.” She looked over at her father and gave him the little half smile that reminded him of a grin her mother would always deliver.
“I’m just glad you got out of jail. I hope you never do anything like that again. I was really scared for you. I never want to be scared like that.”
“You don’t have to worry. I promise.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss on his cheek.
“Can you please not be so hard on Poppa? On London? On your boss? Okay, Daddy? Mom’s happy here. Billy is having so much fun with Poppa. Mom really wants you to do well. She loves you. Go to that thing tomorrow. She doesn’t want you to blow it all. Be nice to her. Okay?”
He sat there, ruminating on how much he loved being part of his family. That was something he once never thought he’d want to be: a family man. As a young guy he always figured there was no upside in having a family, in being nailed down, being a “dad.” It sure hadn’t done anything for his father.
He had been wrong, though. It was all he cared about. Three months in prison brought that home to him. Sitting in that cell, all night, all day, waiting for a trial, all he wanted was to be with them and to somehow make Kate and the kids happy again.
“I’ll think about it. How’s that?”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, button.” They sat there in the square for a beat, listening to the wave of cars and buses in the distance, like the lull of a giant seashell, the gentle London night air blowing on their faces, the sweet jasmine scent wafting down from the trees lining the park. He so wanted it all to be over. Wanted his confidence back. Wanted to trust his intuition again, but he didn’t. He hadn’t in so long. Not since his arrest. Didn’t even trust them now, with this whole obviously sorry deal with Heaton.
He finally got up and took her hand as she continued to lean into him while they walked back to the hotel.
“I think I’m in love with Étienne, Daddy. I think this is the one.” He kissed the top of her head and answered her with great certainty.
“I can pretty much assure you it isn’t.”
“How can you say that? How could you possibly know?”
“I’m your father. It’s my job to know.”