A Half Forgotten Song Read Free

the flash had caused a lurid flare in one of his eyes, so that, to Zach, he looked bad tempered, oddly elongated, and possibly evil to boot. But Elise loved the T-shirt as much as she loved the pony. The outfit was finished with a bright yellow plastic handbag; mismatched clothes that made Elise look gaudy and delicious, like a multicolored hard candy. Ali would not approve of the outfit, which Elise had assembled herself, but Zach was damned if he was going to have an argument and make her get changed on their last morning together.
    “Snazzy outfit, Els,” he called down to her.
    “Thanks!” she replied, breathlessly, still spinning.
    Zach realized he was staring at her. Trying to notice everything about her. Knowing that the next time he saw her, myriad subtle changes would have taken place. She might even have outgrown the T-shirt with the ugly gray pony on it, or just lost interest in the creature, although that seemed unlikely. At the moment she seemed as upset about leaving the pony as she was about leaving her friends, her school. Her father. Time would tell, he supposed. He was about to find out if his daughter was an out-of-sight, out-of-mind kind of person or one for whom absence made the heart grow fonder. He hoped to God she was the latter. Zach downed the last of his coffee, shut the front door, and flipped the lock closed, then grabbed his daughter around her ribs to make her squeal with laughter.
    Breakfast was eaten at a tatty pine table in the kitchen of the flat above the gallery, to the strains of Miley Cyrus on the CD player. Zach sighed slightly as his least favorite song by the saccharine pop star came around again, and realized to his horror that he had, gradually and against his will, learned all the words. Elise bobbed her shoulders up and down as she ate her cereal, in a kind of seated dance, and Zach sang a line of the chorus in a high falsetto, which made her choke and spray milk onto her chin.
    “Are you excited about the trip?” he asked carefully, once Miley had faded into blessed silence. Elise nodded but said nothing, chasing the last few flakes of cereal around in her bowl, dipping them out of the milk like fishing for tadpoles. “This time tomorrow you’ll be on an aeroplane, high up in the sky. It’s going to be fun, isn’t it?” he pressed, hating himself, because he could see that Elise wasn’t sure how she should answer. He knew she was excited, scared, looking forward to it, sad to be leaving. A mixture of emotions she was too young to have to deal with, let alone express.
    “I think you should come too, Dad,” she said at last, pushing her bowl away and leaning back, swinging her legs awkwardly.
    “Well, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. But I’ll see you over the holidays, and I’ll come and visit lots,” he said automatically, and then cursed himself in case he couldn’t. Transatlantic flights didn’t come cheap.
    “Promise?” Elise looked up at him and held his gaze, as if hearing the hollowness of the words. Zach’s stomach twisted, and when he spoke he found it hard to make his voice sound normal.
    “I promise.”
    They had to go before the end of the summer holidays, Ali had argued, so that Elise would have a chance to settle in for a couple of weeks before starting her new school. Her new school in Hingham, near Boston. Zach had never been to New England, but he pictured colonial architecture, wide-open beaches, and rows of pristine white yachts moored along bleached wooden jetties. It was these beaches and boats that Elise was most excited about. Lowell had a sailing boat. Lowell was going to teach Ali and Elise to sail. They were going to sail up the coast, and have picnics. Let him see one picture of Elise near a boat without a life jacket on, thought Zach, and he would be over there in a flash to knock Lowell’s smug head off his shoulders. He sighed inwardly at the petty thought. Lowell was a nice guy. Lowell would never let a child near a