Lucy Gordon - For His Little Girl

"Her third birthday," he murmured.

"That huge giraffe beside her was your present."

"My-"

"You sent some money and I bought it. It was her favorite. She went around telling everyone that Daddy gave it to her."

"Pippa-don't." He closed his eyes.

"Darling, I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to rub it in."

"I know you didn't. It's just that it's all gone, forever. And I didn't realize."

There were more birthday pics, third, fourth, fifth, and now Josie was showing the first signs of the child she was today, the face growing finer, the eyes already hinting at a cool intelligence working away behind the childish features.

"She learned to talk early," Pippa recalled, "and boy did she talk! She was the first in her class to learn to read and she never stopped asking questions. She went around interrogating everyone at the guest house. I told them not to let her pester, but none of them shooed her away."

He thought of being "pestered" by a bright-eyed little girl who wanted his company more than anything. Like that kiddy in the park in London, long ago, crying, "Daddy, Daddy, come here, I want you." And her jerk of a father had got mad at her, instead of understanding that he was privileged. But at least he'd stayed with her. Not like another jerk.

Pippa didn't seem to have noticed his reverie.

"Josie's like a sponge," she was saying, "she just sops up knowledge and experience and never forgets. Her teachers think she might be something really brilliant in computers."

"Not the greatest cook in the world?'' he asked, dismayed.

"Only in her spare time." She laughed. "Look at this one."

It showed Josie in a blue frock, her head covered in a tea towel held down by a circle of tinsel, clutching a cushion wrapped in a shawl. Beside her stood a scowling little boy, also equipped with tea towel and tinsel halo.

"That's her being Mary in the school Nativity play. She was seven. The cushion is meant to be the baby. But don't be fooled by that saintly look. Two minutes after this was taken she had a bust-up with Joseph. He knocked her halo off, and she walloped him with the cushion."

Luke shouted with laughter. "There's a chip off the old block!"

"Whose old block?"

"Yours, mine, her great aunt Clarrie maybe. She comes from the same kind of stock on both sides, folk who like to make a nuisance of themselves. Have you got any more?"

"This one was last year, and the Labrador with her is George. He belonged to a lady called Helen, a financial genius who'd stayed with us years earlier. Josie loved her because she could play with George, who was a puppy, and I liked her because she rearranged all my financial affairs so that I was more profitable. Then one day the police called, and the next thing we knew Helen had dumped George in Josie's arms and vanished out of a back window. She was wanted for fraud, but they never caught her. She sends us a postcard from the Bahamas every Christmas.

"George turned out to be valuable, and as Helen had left his papers we were able to use him for stud, and did very well out of him." Pippa laughed. "That was how Josie learned about sex. She became his 'manager.' He died last year in a car accident. She cried for a month."

In whose arms? Not his, that was for sure!

They called Josie constantly but were lucky to speak to her. These days all her time was spent at the zoo, where she'd fallen in love with Billy and Tara and Ruby and Gita, all elephants. When they did find her in, she would talk about her new friends as though they were people. It was clear she was having a wonderful time.

"I guess I've just discovered another aspect of being a parent," Luke said ruefully. "It's calling to say, 'How are you, darling? I miss my little girl.' and getting, 'Daddy, guess what Billy did today!' I've been jilted before, but never for a elephant."

Pippa chuckled. "You're learning."

They were together every moment, except once when Luke left her behind while he vanished for an hour, only to be mysterious on his return. They would talk about driving into town to eat out, but always settle for a candlelit table just inside the French doors overlooking the pool. Afterward they would stretch out on one of the huge sofas, idly zapping television channels, too lost in each other to take notice of the screen, until Pippa usually fell asleep in his arms.

One night he said, "It's not too late, is it? We can still have it all."

"Nobody gets it all. We've got now, and it's far more than I ever thought we'd have."

"Say you'll marry me," he pleaded.

"I want to marry you. Oh, Luke, if you only knew how much I want that."

"That's good enough for me. Here." He reached under the cushion and brought out a small box. "This is what I went to buy this morning."

Inside the box was a ring, set with one large, perfect diamond, and surrounded by a cluster of small ones. She gasped at its perfection.

"I'll change it if you don't like it, but I thought this suited you."

"Luke, I-"

"Please put it on, my love. And keep it. And say that we'll add another one to it, very soon."

She slipped it on. It was a beautiful ring, and she kissed it lovingly. He didn't seem to notice that she hadn't said what he wanted.

The days became one long perfect day, until at last it was time to go. The last swim, the last of Sonia's wonderful meals, the goodbyes to the servants, who'd been observing everything, doing their bit to help the romance along and then fading into the background, but never so far that they couldn't watch with delight.

Luke found Pippa sitting by the pool, staring into the water, her eyes fixed on something deep inside her. "Are you ready to go?" he asked gently.

She shook her head. "I shall never be ready to leave here," she said wistfully. "We were so happy."

"Because we found each other."

"Yes, and because we managed to shut the world out. It's as unreal here as Disneyland. When we leave-"

"It won't vanish. We have our own reality, and it'll come with us. We don't need places, just us. From now on we'll always be happy."

"Always," she whispered. "I wonder what always will mean for us.''

"It means growing old and gray together, and loving each other through everything that happens."

"And forgiving each other?"

"If that means you've forgiven me, then yes. But you could never do anything I needed to forgive. I know that everything about you is good and true."

"Luke, there's something I-"

"Hush,'' he said, kissing her. "What do we need to say? I love you. I will always love you, until the end of time. Tell me that you feel the same."

"You know I do."

"I want to hear you say it. I want you to say it often, for all the times you might have said it in the past and didn't because you knew I wasn't ready to hear. Say it, my darling."

"I love you, Luke-"

"Until the end of time?"

"Yes," she said huskily. "Until the end of time-whenever that is."

He brushed a stray lock of hair back with tender fingers. "What a strange thing to say. Time will never end, just as we will never end."

Suddenly she was clinging to him. "Oh, Luke-Luke-"

"Darling, what is it?"

"Hold me. Don't let me go."

She wanted to cry out, "Don't let me go into that dark place that might take me away from you. I'm not ready-''

"I'll never let you go," he promised.

She searched his face. "Luke, you really do love me, don't you? You'll love me whatever happens?"

"Nothing could happen to make me stop loving you. Nothing at all."

They drove back to Manhattan Beach in the late afternoon. At Pippa's suggestion they left collecting Josie until the following morning. She planned to use this final evening to explain things to Luke. All the way home she was working out how to tell him gently that in a few days she must have an operation that would either save her or not. And if not-she wouldn't think about that. They would come through this and have a future together. For a moment the wall of black ice was there again, barring her path. She covered her eyes with her hand, refusing to see it. In her newfound love and strength she would not admit that it could all be taken away.