Second Shot

Besides anything else, the whole purpose of her visit to the U.S., as she’d pointed out, was to find and get to know her father. Even I had to admit that this trip to North Conway with him was a perfect opportunity for her to do that. The fact that I had reservations about him-albeit ones that I couldn’t turn into anything concrete — counted for nothing. Simone dismissed my cautious approach as an overreaction like the one she believed I’d had on Boston Common.

We seemed nearly at the base of the mountain now. I could see the lines of the ski lifts rising above us, dotted with people taking advantage of the sunshine. Just when it looked like we were heading right for the ski lodge at the bottom of the mountain and were going to have to complete our journey by sleigh, Lucas made another right turn, past the tubing park and the Fitness Center that even boasted its own climbing wall. Another quarter of a mile farther on, Lucas slowed and said in a tense voice to Simone, “Well, here we are.”

The house was impressive, even by American standards. What I would have called a one-and-a-half-story building, with huge gables in the roof to show rooms on an upper floor. Directly in front of us was a three-car garage, with the house itself set back slightly to the left. A raised deck ran right the way round the outside, and there were steps leading up to it and the glass-paneled front door. The walls were covered in green shingles and dark-stained clapboard. With the trees overhanging from all sides, it seemed a little dark and forbidding, but I suppose it was meant to blend.

Sitting behind her, I couldn’t see Simone’s face to judge her reaction, but she was leaning forwards slightly as we swung onto the cleared driveway, craning her neck to look at the place. I glanced at Ella, but she was still spark out, head lolling sideways against the bunched-up coat she was using as a pillow. It was only as Lucas pulled up in front of the garages and actually switched off the Range Rover’s engine that she snuffled into wakefulness, squinting in the bright sunlight, her hair all flattened on one side. Lucas, Simone and I all climbed out. The cold took your breath away.

“How’re you doing, princess?” Lucas asked Ella. Mistake. Even on my limited acquaintance with Ella I knew she always woke grumpy. Now, she scowled furiously at him and, showing an early feminine awareness of her appearance, hid her face in her mother’s shoulder as soon as she was unbuckled from her seat. Lucas seemed a little taken aback by the little girl’s response.

“Don’t worry,” Simone said apologetically, smiling at him. “She’s always like this.” She seemed to have forgotten her earlier reservations.

“OK, well, let’s get her inside and see about that food I promised,” Lucas said, recovering.

We’d just reached the bottom of the steps when the front door opened and a woman came out onto the porch. She was medium height, the stiffness of her spine making her seem taller, with iron gray hair pulled into a tight French pleat at the back of her head. She was wearing khaki trousers and a rust-colored blouse with a kind of big floppy collar that might have been trying to soften down her rather severe features but only served to emphasize them. Nevertheless, she was smiling in welcome.

My first reaction was that she was Lucas’s housekeeper. She seemed older than he was and slightly out of step in both appearance and manner. It was Lucas himself who dispelled this myth, bounding lightly up the steps and planting a chaste kiss on the woman’s cheek before taking her arm and turning to face the three of us.

“Simone, honey, I’d like you to meet Rosalind … my wife.”

I felt rather than saw Simone’s jaw sag. For a moment she said nothing at all, just stared blankly. Eventually, it was Rosalind who disentangled herself from her husband and came down the stairs to meet us. She stopped in front of Simone and smiled with every appearance of real affection at Ella.

“I can see that Greg’s kind of dropped this on you,” Rosalind said, flicking Lucas a reproachful glance. Her voice was low and husky, like she was a heavy smoker, although I smelt no tobacco on her clothes. “But it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said. She shrugged, the sudden uncertainty of the gesture at odds with her competent appearance. “I guess … well, I guess this makes me your stepmom.”

So how well did that go down?” Sean asked. “Like a lead balloon,” I said wryly “Simone’s only just found Daddy-I think the idea of having to share him with anyone other than Ella came as a bit of a shock to her.”

I was closeted in the guest room I’d been allocated and had taken advantage of the momentary solitude to check in with Sean. I sat on the bed alongside the giant teddy bear that Simone had bought for Ella in Boston.