sheâd once thought might well drive her mad but which sheâd grown used to and and would have missed had they gone. The evening shadows growing long in Miss Vickersâs garden below and the scent of the wallflowers her brother had massed into the borders wafting in through the wide open windows. The flat had a different look about it. Not noticeably tidier, mind, but warmer, more personal, less of a bachelor pad. Julie had departed northwards again only yesterday but sheâd left traces of her presence. Records, magazines ... there were even some fresh flowers inexpertly stuck into a vase, certainly not Mayoâs doing. One bloom is worth a thousand words â a bunch of daffodils to express regret: Iâm sorry, Dad, I love you but ...
Alex knew that all these authoritarian father noises Mayo was making were no guarantee that he wasnât deeply worried about Julie, though she thought there was no need. She herself thought that Julie would probably regret later what she was doing now, but there was a core of good sound common sense in the girl, which heâd admit to when heâd had time to come round. Meanwhile, a daughter apparently hell-bent on wrecking her chances, as he saw it, was something he regarded as unfinished business, which wasnât in his book.
âHalf your problem is youâre going to miss her dropping in and stocking up your freezer with all that delicious food!â she teased, trying to lift his mood.
âNot if itâs nut rissoles, Iâm not â and half way to Australiaâs a bit different from college, two hours up the motorway, you must admit.â He leaned back, rolling the malt round his tongue, savouring it before swallowing. He looked tired as well he might, having been out catching thieves until dawn, but he was used to that and a good nightâs sleep would make up for it. His big frame sagged in the chair. She must remind him to get his hair cut. It was beginning to curl up at the back in the way he hated. Suddenly he grinned, looking ten years younger. âHell, no. To tell you the truth, for the first time ever Iâm not sorry to see the back of her for a while. Iâm not sure I can take any more at the moment. Iâve had vegetables and peanut butter and going green rammed down my throat till Iâm up to here! What in Godâs nameâs got into her? She never used to be like this.â
âOh come on, if you donât have ideals at eighteen ââ
âItâs not just ideals. I could understand that â or try to. But sheâs in a funny mood. Dangerous. Dammit,â he said, sitting up again, âI wonât let her go traipsing round the universe!â
âSheâs not under age, Gil. Nothing you can do, though I suppose youâd feel better if she wasnât going on her own.â
âSheâs not going on her own, thatâs the whole point! Didnât I tell you, thereâs a boy â a man â another student anyway. Some sandalled weirdo whoâs put all these screwy ideas into her head.â
âAh.â So that was what had really been bugging him. âNo, you didnât tell me. That does make a difference.â She looked thoughtful but before she could elaborate on what the difference was, the telephone rang.
Mayo swore and let it ring.
âIt wonât go away.â
Muttering under his breath he got up to answer it. While he listened to what was being said at the other end, Alex heard the clocks begin to chime in unison, one very slightly off-synch with the others. Like their relationship, she thought. Just one degree off being perfect.
âJust a minute.â Mayo held his hand over the instrument until the chimes stopped, using the time to gaze thoughtfully at the wall in front. âGo on.â
By the time he put the receiver down, Alex knew that this was destined to be yet another evening gone for a burton.
It was a thwarted