Daniel and Daughter

CHAPTER FOUR

That summer was the most perfect Lee had ever known. It was the idyll she'd been denied as a young girl, the blissful enchanted time when love was at its most romantic. There were no problems in those magic days. There was only this summer, this wonderful man, this ideal love.

Daniel's television show was taking its summer break. He'd insisted on a few weeks off each year to allow him time to write, but this year he gave his time to Lee, asking nothing from her but her company.

He squired her about as innocently as a boy with his first love, claiming no more than kisses. She knew he was playing a waiting game, and that later he planned to demand everything from her-passionate love, marriage, children. But for the moment he was courting her gently, giving her space in which her confidence could grow.

Lee refused to look ahead. It was unthinkable to part from Daniel, but equally unthinkable to launch her little boat onto another uncharted sea, however small the waves might seem now.

'I took a terrible battering from Jimmy,' she said once to Daniel. 'I never knew what was going to happen next, discovering that he'd been stealing, finding him drunk, with other women. Since we divorced I've had peace, because 1 don't have to pay the penalty for anyone else's mistakes and weaknesses. I know I can depend on myself, so I haven't anything to worry about.'

'Haven't you?' he replied, looking at her sadly, 'What about the grey desert of loneliness you're preparing for yourself?'

'But I'm safe,' she said pleadingly.

'And I want you to take risks, because there's no safe place in love, darling.'

Once he grew angry and reminded her that he too had fears that grew out of the past. His were the reverse of hers. He dreaded that she would travel so far with him, then turn aside, leaving him lonely again.

He was still writing his columns, which appeared twice a week in a tabloid newspaper and once a month in a magazine. Lee had started reading them and was delighted with their wit and sympathy. It was like having Daniel there before her, for he wrote as he talked. Even here he was able to surprise her, as she discovered when she found Sonya chortling over the paper one morning. Her eyes were alight with fun as she pushed it over for Lee to read.

Daniel had headed the piece The Woman who Exposed my Secret Self, and it was a hilarious account of their first meeting in the rain and darkness, subtly angled so that the joke was against himself. He hadn't identified Lee. 'Jane', as he called the anonymous woman, existed only to reveal to him his own hidden side. He concluded cheerfully.

I've been fooling myself all along. Put me behind the wheel and I'm no different from the rest of my miserable sex: ill-mannered, unreasonable and, as Jane so rightly put it, 'straight out of the ark'.

From here the piece slid into a neat plug for Women, Beware Men. Lee read it with admiration. It was funny enough to make her laugh out loud, yet she recognised the serious man who was always there behind the comedy. Daniel was honest enough to accept the worst Lee had said about him, generous enough not to resent her for it and professional enough to transmute it all into good copy for his column. She wondered if she would ever discover all his facets.

At the height of summer they took a cruise down the Thames. On the return journey Lee leaned on the rails, sipping a drink and watching the setting sun turn the water red. It had been a blazing hot day and the air was balmy. A languorous warmth pervaded her limbs, and she had only to turn her head to see Daniel's adoring eyes on her. Cocooned by his love, she felt a blissful happiness that she'd never known before in her life.

Her hand tightened on the rail to control the impulse to touch him. It would have been so easy to reach out and brush her fingers against his neck, and if they'd been alone she would have done so.

It's ridiculous, she thought wryly. You're a woman of twenty-nine. You're falling in love with this man and you're scared. What's the matter with you?

Daniel turned his head suddenly and looked straight into her eyes. At once he drew in his breath with a sharp sound, and she knew he must have read her feelings in her face. Her heart began to thump. She could tell from his expression that he felt the same as she did at this moment.

'Don't move,' he said in a quiet voice. 'Keep absolutely still, darling.'

She obeyed, and he reached out a gentle hand towards her face. She felt the soft brush of his fingers sliding down her neck, then his face tightened suddenly, he gave a sharp exclamation and pulled away from her.

'Got it!' he said triumphantly.

Lee stared at his hand, where a tiny insect was squirming between his fingers. Daniel released it onto the deck.

'It was climbing your collar,' he explained. 'I know how you hate creepy-erawlies so I- Lee, whatever's the matter?'

'Was that why you were staring at me?' she demanded.

'Was I staring? I was trying not to alarm you into moving in case it slid down the inside. Lee, please, don't get hysterical. It's gone now, I promise. Lee- please-'

Lee was almost weeping with laughter. She clutched herself and rocked back and forth as the fractured tension released itself in wave after wave of mirth. Daniel scratched his head and regarded her in bafflement.

'Darling,' he said, joining in her laughter without knowing why he did so, 'for heaven's sake, tell me what's so funny.'

'I can't,' she said, wiping her eyes. 'I'm sorry, but I really can't. Not yet. I'll tell you when we're old and grey.'

'Well,' he said ruefully, 'that has a nice, cheerful sound. It's the first time you've ever mentioned being old and grey with me.'

'It was just a manner of speaking,' she prevaricated.

'Don't be unkind. Leave me my illusions. I didn't know I'd got that far.'

To her relief he didn't mention the subject again. Instead he started to talk about Phoebe's approaching sixteenth birthday party, with which Lee was helping him. They strolled up to some seats in the bow of the boat, and settled themselves.

"There's something I've got to tell you,' she said. 'Phoebe dropped in at the studio yesterday. She wants to hire me to take some photographs of her.'

'What did you say?'

'I told her I'd do it for free, as a birthday present. You know what she wants, don't you?'

'Yes, she wants you to make her look like a model. I'd hoped she was getting over that. Ah, well, maybe when she has the pictures she'll be happy. Thank you, Lee. It was a sweet thing to do.'

'You're not annoyed?'

'Did you think I would be?'

'A bit-yes.'

'But that didn't stop you?'

'Of course not. Why should it? This is between Phoebe and me. It has nothing to do with you.'

He grimaced slightly. 'I suppose I brought that on myself. You don't know how hard it is to exercise a little fatherly authority after all the things I've said and written. The other day I dared to suggest, in the mildest possible terms, that she might keep her stuff in her own room and not drape it all over the house. The little wretch quoted one of my own columns back at me-something about allowing the creative instinct to flower.

'I tried to explain that this didn't translate into the right to break my neck by leaving her heated roller on the stairs, but I don't think I got through.'

'You probably never said it at all,' Lee mused. ' expect she made it up and counted on your not remembering.'

'Oh, no. I got the piece out and checked. She'd quoted me word for word. Phoebe's memory is superb.'

'I can see why you're so certain she'll pass all her exams.'

'Exactly. That's why I wish she'd get rid of this bee in her bonnet about modelling. But I'm glad you're taking these pictures for her. I know my daughter's stubbornness. If you'd refused she'd have gone to someone else, and I'm happier if it's you. Don't encourage her, will you, darling?'

'I won't be sending her pictures to any model agencies, if that's what you mean, but if she asks me outright whether she's any good I'll have to give her a truthful answer,' Lee said firmly.

His mouth tightened with a look of displeasure that she hadn't seen before. 'And the truthful answer has to be "yes", does it?' he said.

'Of course it does. She's beautiful, she's fantastically photogenic, she moves well and she's got personality.'

'She also has a brilliant brain that ought to be used in her career.'

'But surely that's up to her?' Suddenly Lee's eyes gleamed with fun. 'Didn't you once write a piece called Bigger and Better Choices that said-?'

'Never mind that,' he interrupted hastily. 'If you're going to start quoting me as well my life won't be worth living.' He growled at her in mock ferocity. 'Get back in the kitchen and start planning little savoury things for Phoebe's party. That's women's work!'

He jumped as a bony female finger jabbed him in the back. A large, angry-looking woman sitting immediately behind him had heard his last remark.

'Here, you,' she denounced him loudly. 'Haven't you heard it's the twentieth century?' Ignoring Daniel's stunned face, she leaned across to Lee. 'I don't know how you put up with him, dear.'

Carefully avoiding Daniel's eye, Lee assumed a mournful face and nodded to the woman.

'Well, you've got to be reasonable, haven't you?' she said with a sigh. 'He buys me a new apron now and then, and takes me out twice a year. And besides-' her voice dropped conspiratorially '-his old vests do make lovely floorcloths.'

She got no further. Daniel, wild-eyed, was hauling her firmly to her feet. He gave a brief nod to the angry woman.

'Excuse us, madam,' he said tersely. He strode off along the deck with Lee's hand clasped in his, moving so fast that she had to scurry to keep up with him. She found herself taken, perforce, onto the lower deck, which was almost deserted.

'Lee, you wretch!' Daniel exploded. 'What are you trying to do to me? If that story ever gets about-' He covered his eyes.

'It won't,' Lee assured him solemnly. 'I won't re peat a word of it, I promise. It'll be more fun to keep quiet and blackmail you with it. Oh, Daniel, wouldn't have missed the last five minutes for anything you could offer me.'

He started to expostulate but stopped as he looked down at her face, full of mischief. Into his mind came the face of the tense, reserved woman she'd been when they first met. He smiled tenderly.

'Ah, well,' he said, 'if my career crashes in ruins about me, I suppose we can live off your photography. I'm modern enough not to mind letting you support me.'

'You see?' she teased him. 'Being modern has some unexpected benefits.'

Daniel took a quick glance round to make sure there was no one near them before dropping his head to kiss her lightly just below the ear.

'Well, I always warned you, didn't I?' he murmured. 'You can't trust any of us.'

Phoebe's birthday party passed without incident, barring the awkward moment when Mark and Phoebe, seeking to snatch a hurried embrace in the kitchen, disturbed Lee and Daniel similarly occupied. The young lovers saw the humour in the situation; Lee's main worry was Sonya. But when they were getting ready for bed that night her daughter disposed of the problem in brisk fashion.

'Honestly, Mum, I may not be as brilliant as Phoebe, but I'm not dense. I knew all those meetings with Mr Raife weren't just to discuss Romeo and

Juliet.' She added mischievously, 'Not the teenage version, anyway.'

Lee pretended not to hear the last bit. 'You don't mind, do you, darling? I mean-about your father…?'

Sonya considered this for a moment. 'No, honestly I don't. He's a smashing dad, but that's between him and me.' With a gentleness that made her seem much older than her thirteen years, she added, 'He wasn't so smashing to you, was he?'

'We didn't get on too well,' Lee said cautiously. She was almost holding her breath, hardly daring to believe her luck that Sonya was going to understand.

'I've still got Dad. I won't lose him, Mum, just because you marry Mr Raife.'

'I haven't said I'll marry him,' Lee said hastily.

'But you will. Anyone can see you're potty about him. When you started going out with him your temper improved all of a sudden.'

Lee gave her a wry look, then remembered something. 'What did you mean about Romeo and Juliet?' she asked.

'Well, they are. Phoebe's got it badly, too, now. She's due to go to France next week, and she's been trying to get out of it but her father won't let her.'

Lee went to bed thoughtful. Increasingly she had the sensation that a storm was brewing between Daniel and his daughter. She would have preferred to stay on the sidelines, but that was hard because both the Raifes seemed determined to draw her in. Phoebe regarded her as a potential ally because of her job, and Daniel felt entitled to her support because he saw her as Phoebe's future stepmother.

Offering to take the pictures had been an impulsive gesture that she was half regretting because it was a step towards becoming involved. But she was committed now, and must go through with it.

On the day, Phoebe turned up with a loaded suitcase and Lee went through the contents with her. There were five outfits and the girl had original ideas about make-up for each one. Gillian arranged her hair in several different ways, from demure to flamboyant.

Lee shot roll after roll, carried high by the tide of euphoria at having this marvellous raw material fall into her hands. Phoebe seemed able to change the atmosphere by the turn of her head, the angle of her body or the expression on her face.

When they stopped for coffee she eagerly turned to Lee. 'Is it going well?' she demanded. 'Am I any good?'

Lee drew a cautious breath. 'You move beautifully,' she prevaricated. 'Did you learn that, or is it natural?'

'I took ballet lessons once. I've never wanted to be a swot. I've always done well at school because I can remember things easily, and I like pleasing Dad, but…I don't know…' She trailed off unhappily.

'It's not the same as liking it for its own sake, is it?'

'That's right! I want to be where there are lovely things and nice clothes and lights. I don't want to spend my youth poring over books, even if I am good at it.'

Some people might have thought Phoebe's ambitions trivial, but Lee was impressed by the girl's clearsightedness and her ability to analyse herself. Behind that lovely face was a lot of shrewdness-enough, Lee thought, to give Phoebe the right to decide her own career.

'Couldn't you just fail your exams?' asked Gillian, who'd been listening.

Phoebe shook her head. 'Poor Dad would never be able to hold up his head again. I couldn't do that to him, could I?'

'No,' Lee said firmly. 'You couldn't hurt him like that.'

'For his sake, I've got to show everyone that I can get to Oxford, and then get out of going.' She gave a little laugh and scratched her head in a manner that was uncannily reminiscent of her father. 'It's as simple as that,' she said ironically.

While Lee reloaded her camera Phoebe began to study the pictures on the walls. Some of them were Lee's best shots, including some covers for Harpers. Others were agency posters. Every model agency distributed large posters covered with tiny pictures of their clients, with details of size and colouring. Like all fashion photographers, Lee hung these up where she could refer to them quickly.

Phoebe stepped in front of a poster from Mulroy & Collitt and peered closely at one of the pictures. The caption underneath read 'Roxanne, 5' 8". Blonde, green eyes'.

'That's the model I talked to the first day, isn't it?' she asked Lee, who'd come up behind her.

'That's right,' Lee said. 'She's one of the best.' Huge rolls of coloured paper were strung up between posts to provide a variety of backgrounds. Lee pulled the gold paper down until it touched the floor. Phoebe was clad in the white dress she'd worn to the college ball, decorated with gilt jewellery. The be] was a gilt chain, bracelets jangled on her wrists, an‹ her ears sported earrings so long that only someone with Phoebe's swan-like neck would have dared to wear them. Against the gold background, in the white dress, with her pale skin and flaming red hair, she was a gorgeous study in contrasts.

When she'd finished, Lee said, 'Phoebe, I want you to put on the jeans and shirt you were wearing when you came in. Scrub all the make-up off your face and do your hair in bunches.'

'Bunches? You mean like a little kid?' Phoebe demanded in horror.

'Trust me. I know what I'm doing.'

When Phoebe had changed, Lee set her against a green background and pointed the camera at her. A cheeky urchin laughed back, so different from the previous shot that it seemed impossible it could be the same person. Lee gave a sigh of pure professional pleasure.

When the session was finished Phoebe changed back into her ordinary clothes and followed Lee into the cubbyhole.

'Do you think they're going to be good, Lee?' she asked eagerly.

'Yes,' Lee said guardedly. 'I think they are.'

'Good enough for me to be a model?'

"That's, not a fair question,' she prevaricated.

'Why? Because you've promised my father that you won't encourage me?' Phoebe asked with disconcerting shrewdness.

'Well, you know how he feels.'

'That's Dad's trouble,' Phoebe said severely. 'He will cloud the issue with personal feelings when I'm talking about facts. Either I'm good enough to be a professional model or I'm not. Feelings don't come into it. If I'm hopelessly bad I wouldn't expect you to keep quiet about that because it might hurt my feelings.'

Lee was privately so much in agreement with this that she was left floundering in silent despair for an answer.

'So please tell me,' Phoebe went on. 'Am I hopelessly bad?'

'No,' Lee admitted reluctantly. 'You're not.'

Phoebe watched Lee's face for a moment before moving in for the kill. 'Am I good?'

'You know you are.'

'How good?'

I'll have to see the pictures before I can be sure of that.'

'But you've got a pretty clear idea already, haven't you? If I said I was determined to become a model, would you say I was raving mad?'

Lee ran a hand distractedly through her hair. She'd expected questions, but not this cunningly phrased interrogation. 'No, I wouldn't say that,' she said at last. 'But I would say you ought to listen to your father. He knows the world better than you do.'

'Not the fashion world, he doesn't. You're the expert there. That's why I'm asking you.'

'But he's your father and you're very young.'

'I'm at the age when people normally start thinking about their careers,' Phoebe said reasonably. 'If I said I wanted to go to Oxford I don't suppose either of you would say I was too young to make that decision would you?'

'I suppose there's something in that,' Lee admitted, frowning. 'I do think you're entitled to rather more say in your own future than he seems to be giving you.'

'Lee, please tell me honestly. Do I have the talent to be a model?'

Lee sighed and gave up. She'd warned Daniel that if this moment came she would have to tell Phoebe the truth.

'Yes, you do,' she said. 'You look fabulous and you're terribly photogenic. But it's an insecure life and a very hard one. You could get ill and your looks could vanish overnight. You could wear yourself out banging on doors trying to get a start.'

'But you could employ me-'

'Oh, no, I couldn't,' Lee said hastily, shuddering at the thought of Daniel's reaction to this plan. 'Not while your father's against it.'

'But if it weren't for Dad you'd employ me, wouldn't you?'

'I didn't say that. There could be all sorts of reasons for my not using you. You might not be suitable for any of the things I'm booked to do. You were the one who wanted to keep it impersonal. You're not suggesting that I should show you favouritism, are you?'

'Of course not. But I don't want to be discriminated against either,' Phoebe pleaded. 'If I'm not right for a particular job, fair enough. But you've got me on a blacklist all because of Dad. That's not only unjust, it's restraint of trade.'

'Pardon?' Lee said blankly.

'Restraint of trade. It's a legal concept. It's against the law for anyone to do something that interferes with another person's freedom to earn their living. The fact is, if it weren't for Dad, you'd hire me sometimes, wouldn't you?'

'I think I'd better not answer that,' Lee said, feeling the waters beginning to close over her head.

'That's all right,' Phoebe said wickedly. 'Some people take silence to mean consent.'

'Phoebe, why don't you just become a lawyer?' Lee pleaded. 'I'm beginning to think it's exactly what you're cut out for.'

Phoebe laughed-the young, confident laugh of someone who knew she could make the world dance to her tune.

That's what Dad says,' she said serenely. 'But I know what's right for me and I'm going to have it, no matter what he thinks. Thanks a million, Lee.'

When she'd gone the studio seemed quiet, as though a whirlwind had hit it and passed on.

'Were you ever that young and that sure?' mused Gillian.

'Yes,' Lee said. 'And it was a disaster. But then, I wasn't a genius.'