Deep in thought, Edward Granger plodded up his grand staircase. Upon reaching the top, he paused for a moment. Then suddenly, just for the hell of it, he flattened himself against the wall and with one arm out to the side, the other brandishing an imaginary gun, staked out his spacious landing. At the end of the corridor the door to his luxurious bedroom was open, tempting him to forget about everything and go for a nap. Still, Betsey would probably view this as an invitation to jump his bones. Exhaling loudly, he lowered his weapon. Right, he’d just have to do what he’d always done when delicate parenting skills were called for, suck it and see.
He knocked gently on Jessica’s door, but she was playing music so he knocked again harder. ‘Jess, let me in, will you? I know I can be a bit overbearing sometimes, but only because I care and, darling, I can’t apologize enough about the paintings. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but I was wrong and … I’m sorry.’
Jessica opened the door. She’d changed into a cotton sundress and had a towel wrapped round her head like a turban. She gave him a small, slightly wobbly smile of encouragement. ‘Right,’ she muttered. ‘Well, in case you were thinking of doing your “breaking down the door” joke, you’d better come in.’
‘You used to love that when you were little,’ said Edward, following her into the room where he could see she’d been rummaging through her things and had even got a suitcase out. For an odd moment he realized the scariest thing about Jessica going away was the fact that he’d be left on his own with Betsey. As he plonked himself down on the small white sofa at the foot of her bed, Jessica grinned. ‘What?’ said Edward, glad to see her smiling.
‘Nothing, it’s just the song,’ she said, motioning to her iPod before pulling the towel off her head and rubbing her hair with it. ‘It’s the Pet Shop Boys, “What Have I Done to Deserve This?” ’
‘Ha bloody ha,’ replied Edward. A comfortable but ponderous silence ensued while they both figured out what to say next. In the end it was Jessica who found the right words first. Discarding her damp towel on the bed, she began to talk.
‘Dad, I know I’m incredibly lucky and you are the most amazing father a girl could ever have. You do know that, right?’
Edward nodded and tried not to get emotional.
‘But I’m twenty-six now, so I have to spread my wings a bit. I mean, when you were twenty-six you’d left home and were working two jobs while struggling to get your big break. And by the time Mom was twenty-six she’d starred as Heavenly Melons, got married, had me and was about to file for divorce, and yet here I am, and so far my lack of achievement is a bit pathetic really.’
‘That’s a bit strong,’ countered Edward. ‘Most people don’t have everything figured out by the age of twenty-six, for goodness’ sake, and you can hardly hold your mother’s example up as a beacon of success. Is she still seeing that hairy idiot Graydon Matthews by the way?’
‘Not that it has anything to do with anything, but yes, she is. Anyway, the point is,’ she said in frustration, ‘is that, good or bad, at least Mom was doing stuff, whereas unlike most people I don’t have to do anything. I’m in this amazingly privileged position that would let me get away with turning into a total airhead who did nothing but shop and party, which isn’t who I want to be.’
Edward tried to remain diplomatic. ‘Take it from me, struggling is hugely overrated.’
‘I’m sure it is, but isn’t that something I deserve to find out for myself?’
To this Edward really had no answer, so he changed tactics.
‘Has this got anything to do with Dulcie? Vincent mentioned she’s been very taken up with the planning for her wedding and I’ve noticed she’s not been around much lately.’
Jessica flopped on to the bed. ‘This has got nothing to do with Dulcie …’ she said, pausing just long enough for Edward to suspect maybe this wasn’t entirely true. ‘It hasn’t,’ she insisted. ‘Admittedly, Dulcie has gone a bit … crazy about the wedding, and at times I do wonder why she’s leaping into getting married so quickly, but me wanting to go away has nothing to do with her.’
Jessica’s best friend, Dulcie Malone, was the daughter of celebrated recording artist Vincent Malone, the twenty-first-century’s answer to Barry White, only slimmer, who also happened to be Edward’s best and oldest friend. Having grown up together, the two girls were more like sisters, and yet there were certain things they felt very differently about, having a famous father being one of them. This contrast in attitude had first been highlighted a while back when they were asked to star in a reality show called Daddy’s Girls. Jessica had flatly refused to even consider it, which Dulcie had felt deeply resentful about, viewing it as a missed opportunity. Since then, what neither of them had said out loud, thus making it real, was that disagreements that had once seemed like easy hurdles to get over were beginning to feel insurmountable.
Edward, who’d been studying his daughter’s thoughtful face, got up from the sofa and came to sit down next to her on the bed. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Firstly, Jess, you have to understand that this idea about going to England has been rather sprung on me. So if my first reaction wasn’t the one that you were after, I apologize, though you must appreciate I’m still trying to get my head round it.’
Jessica shrugged, but allowed Edward to put his arm around her and nestled in.
‘Secondly, I only want you to be happy, so if this desire to go to England is something that won’t go away, then so be it. Though I’d like to know more about your plans. Where were you planning on staying, for instance? Because, if I may make a suggestion, why don’t you stay with your auntie Pamela until you get settled? I could ring her now before she goes to bed. Sound her out. I know she’d love to have you and it’s high time you caught up anyway.’
Jessica couldn’t resist a smile. She loved her auntie Pam, whom she’d missed over the years. Pamela had a phobia about flying so as far as she was concerned there wasn’t a sleeping pill strong enough that would ever get her to the States. Still, staying with her wasn’t the answer.
‘I don’t think so, Dad. As much as staying with Pam sounds great, I don’t want to take the easy option. I meant it when I said I wanted to do things properly so I’m going to do what normal people do when they go away.’
‘What’s that then?’ asked Edward, struggling with a vision of his daughter in a shitty bedsit or residing in a travel tavern.
‘Stay at a hotel. I’ll make a reservation at the Dorchester. Only not the penthouse, just a regular room,’ she said firmly, standing up and crossing the bedroom to skip the next song on her iPod.
‘Er, right,’ replied Edward faintly. ‘Well, I guess that would keep things “normal” … I mean, if that’s really what you want to do?’
‘It is.’
‘OK,’ said Edward, concentrating hard on not looking amused. He hoped she was planning on taking her credit card. ‘So when were you planning on going?’
‘Soon. Tomorrow maybe?’
‘Tomorrow?’ spluttered Edward. ‘Are you bloody joking? Jesus, Jess, when did you suddenly become so gung-ho?’
Jessica didn’t know, but after months and months of malaise it felt so thrilling to have a plan that she just wanted to get on with it. She shrugged, trying to repress a grin.
‘Christ, what about all your friends – don’t you want to say goodbye?’ Edward continued, running his hands through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck, something he always did when he was stressed. ‘I know you two have had a tricky time lately, but Dulcie especially would be really upset if you just buggered off.’
‘OK, OK. Dulcie’s having “pre-hen” drinks anyway, so I should probably stay for those,’ said Jessica, trying not to giggle. Her dad seemed really rattled, which proved he was taking her plan seriously, which meant it was actually going to happen, which in turn made it all feel suddenly real and very exciting.
‘And what about my birthday party?’
‘That’s not until September, which is four whole months away, so obviously I’ll come back for that. But there is one other thing,’ Jessica continued, the smallest trace of defiance in her voice as she prepared to talk about something delicate.
‘What’s that?’
‘I think Mom may be in London soon.’
‘Right,’ replied Edward steadily.
‘And I know I didn’t see her that long ago, but it might be good to see her on neutral territory for a change.’
‘Is that why you’re going?’
‘No,’ replied Jessica immediately. ‘Not at all. In fact, I only realized she’d be there just now when I checked her schedule. But seeing as she is going to be there, I thought – as long as you’re cool with it, of course – I should hook up with her. Though if you’d rather I didn’t then … you know, I don’t really care either way.’
Edward swallowed. Watching his daughter struggling to seek permission to see her own mother made him feel so deeply sad it was as if the sun had just gone in behind a dark cloud. ‘Darling, you can see your mother whenever you like. You’re a grown woman and you don’t need to check with me anyway.’
‘But I want you to be OK about it,’ mumbled Jessica, torn as ever.
‘I am. I’m more than OK, I’m pleased,’ he added for good measure, though it practically choked him to do so.
‘Sure?’ checked Jessica suspiciously.
‘Completely,’ replied Edward, wondering how things had ever got to this point.
‘OK,’ said Jessica, trying to sound blasé. ‘Well, we’ll see.’
Just then Betsey poked her head round the door.
‘Hi,’ she said, bestowing Jessica with a quick, fake smile before turning to Edward. ‘Honey, could I see you for a few minutes … in our room?’
As she said this, she raised one eyebrow and beckoned him to her with a long pink talon.
Oh, gross, thought Jessica, as she tried not to retch. She knew full well what her stepmother was after. Despite having spent the last twenty-six years yearning for a little brother or sister, she wasn’t sure she was ready for the spawn of Betsey, especially when she could see a mile off how reluctant her father was. Still, it was nothing to do with her and she didn’t want to be caught up in his personal life any more. Another good reason to get away.
‘In a minute, Betsey,’ replied Edward forcibly, causing his wife to flounce out in a rage, slamming the door behind her in frustration. Edward seemed to deflate before Jessica’s eyes, suddenly looking crestfallen and rather old. She went to give him a hug. She’d miss him terribly.
As Edward hugged his daughter back, he cleared his throat. ‘So if you’re not going to be Jessica Granger in England, what name are you going to use?’
Jessica grinned. As the daughter of an A-list movie star she had learned the art of discretion from a young age. ‘I thought I’d use your real last name. Meet Bender, Jessica Bender,’ she said cheekily.
‘Right,’ mused Edward. ‘Well, just to warn you, Bender’s not the easiest name to get by on in the UK. It has slightly different connotations over there.’
But Jessica wasn’t listening. She was too busy prancing around her room and, besides, she really didn’t care what name she used, so long as it wasn’t Granger.