Джеффри Арчер - The Prodigal Daughter

Once Richard had returned to the Red House, their Boston residence on Beacon Hill, he quickly settled down and prepared himself for the Business School. Everyone had warned him it was the most demanding course at the university with the largest number of dropouts, but once the term had started, even he was surprised by how little free time he had to enjoy other pursuits. Mary began to despair when he had to relinquish his place in the string quartet and could manage to see her only on weekends.

At the end of the first year she suggested they should return to Barbados and was disappointed to find he intended to stay put in Boston and continue studying.

When Richard returned for his final year he was determined to finish at or near the top of his class, and his father warned him not to relax until after the last exam paper had been completed. His father had added that if he did not make the top 10 percent he needn’t apply for a position at the bank. William Kane would not be accused of nepotism.

At Christmas, Richard rejoined his parents in New York but remained for only three days before returning to Boston. His mother became quite anxious about the pressure he was putting himself under, but Richard’s father pointed out that it was only for another six months. Then he could relax for the rest of his life. Kate reserved her opinion; she hadn’t seen her husband relax in twenty-five years.

At Easter, Richard called his mother to say he ought to remain in Boston during the brief spring vacation, but she managed to convince him he should come down for his father’s birthday. He agreed but added that he would have to return to Harvard the next morning.

Richard arrived at the family home on East Sixty-eighth Street just after four on the afternoon of his father’s birthday. His mother was there to greet him, as were his sisters, Virginia and Lucy. His mother considered he looked drawn and tired, and she longed for his exams to be over. Richard knew that his father would not break his routine at the bank for anyone’s birthday. He would arrive home a few minutes after seven.

‘What have you bought for Daddy’s birthday?’ inquired Virginia.

‘I was waiting for your advice,’ said Richard flatteringly, having quite forgotten about a present.

‘That’s what I call leaving it until the last moment,’ said Lucy. ‘I bought my present three weeks ago.’

‘I know the very thing he needs,’ said his mother. ‘A pair of gloves — his old ones are nearly worn out.’

‘Dark blue, leather, with no pattern,’ said Richard, laughing. ‘I’ll go to Bloomingdale’s right now.’

He strode down Lexington Avenue, falling in with the pace of the city. He was already looking forward to joining his father in the fall, and felt confident that if there were no distractions in the last few months he would come out in that top 10 percent. He would emulate his father and one day be chairman of the bank. He smiled at the thought. He pushed open the doors of Bloomingdale’s, strode up the steps and asked an assistant where he could buy gloves. As he began making his way through the crowded store he glanced at his watch. Plenty of time to be back and change for dinner before his father returned. He looked up at the two girls behind the glove counter. He smiled; the wrong one smiled back.

The smiling girl came quickly forward. She was a honey blonde with a little too much lipstick and one more button undone than Bloomingdale’s could possibly have approved of. Richard couldn’t help admiring such confidence. A small name tag pinned over her left breast read ‘Maisie Luntz.’

‘Can I help you, sir?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ said Richard. He glanced toward the dark-haired girl. ‘I need a pair of gloves, dark blue, leather, with no pattern,’ he said without letting his eyes return to the blonde.

Maisie selected a pair and put them on Richard’s hands, pushing the leather slowly down each finger and then holding them up for him to admire.

‘If they don’t suit you, you could try another pair.’

‘No, that’s just fine,’ he said. ‘Do I pay you or the other girl?’

‘I can take care of you.’

‘Damn,’ said Richard under his breath. He left reluctantly, determined he would return the next day. Until that afternoon he had considered love at first sight the most ridiculous cliché, fit only for readers of women’s magazines.

His father was delighted with the ‘sensible’ present, as he referred to the gloves over dinner that night, and even more delighted with Richard’s progress at Business School.

‘If you are in the top ten percent I shall be happy to consider offering you a position of trainee at the bank,’ he said for the thousandth time.

Virginia and Lucy grinned. ‘What if Richard comes out number one, Daddy? Will you make him chairman?’ asked Lucy.

‘Don’t be frivolous, my girl. If Richard ever becomes chairman it will be because he will have earned the position after years of dedicated, hard work.’ He turned to his son. ‘Now, when are you returning to Harvard?’

Richard was about to say tomorrow, when he said, ‘I think tomorrow.’

‘Quite right’ was all his father said.

The next day Richard returned not to Harvard, but to Bloomingdale’s, where he headed straight for the glove counter. Before he had any chance of letting the other girl serve him, Maisie pounced; he could do nothing about it except purchase another pair of gloves and return home.

The following morning, Richard returned to Bloomingdale’s for a third time and studied ties on the next counter until Maisie was busy serving a customer and the other girl was free. He then marched confidently up to the counter and waited for her to serve him. To Richard’s horror, Maisie disengaged herself in midsentence from her customer and rushed over while the other girl took her place.

‘Another pair of gloves?’ giggled the blonde.

‘Yes... Yes,’ he said lamely.

Richard left Bloomingdale’s with yet another pair of gloves, dark blue, leather, with no pattern.

The following day he told his father he was still in New York because he had to gather some data from Wall Street to complete a paper. As soon as his father had left for the bank, he headed off to Bloomingdale’s. This time he had a plan for ensuring he spoke to the other girl. He marched up to the glove counter fully expecting Maisie to rush up, when the other assistant came forward to serve him.

‘Good morning, sir,’ she said.

‘Oh, good morning,’ said Richard, suddenly at a loss for words.

‘Can I help you?’

‘No — I mean yes. I would like a pair of gloves,’ he added unconvincingly.

‘Yes, sir. Have you considered dark blue? In leather? I’m sure we have your size — unless we’re sold out.’

Richard looked at the name on her lapel badge: Jessie Kovats. She passed him the gloves. He tried them on. They didn’t fit. He tried another pair and looked toward Maisie. She grinned at him encouragingly. He grinned nervously back. Jessie Kovats handed him another pair of gloves. This time they fit perfectly.

‘I think that’s what you’re looking for,’ said Jessie.

‘No, not really,’ said Richard.

Jessie lowered her voice and said, ‘I’ll go and rescue Maisie. Why don’t you ask her out? I’m sure she’ll say yes.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Richard. ‘You don’t understand. It’s not her I want to take out — it’s you.’

Jessie looked totally surprised.

‘Will you have dinner with me tonight?’

‘Yes,’ she said shyly.

‘Shall I pick you up at your home?’

‘No. Let’s meet at a restaurant.’

‘Where would you like to go?’

Jessie didn’t reply.

‘Allen’s at Seventy-third and Third?’ Richard suggested.