The Life and Death of Laura Friday by David Murphy

Author:David Murphy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2008-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Hey, hey, hey, how’s Daddy’s little girl?’

Cheryl ran into the widespread arms of a bear with a beard and dark glasses. Much less hair than his most recent photo. A round face with moisturised skin. Wearing a rumpled cotton jacket, open-necked shirt, chinos and slip-on shoes. A fine gold necklace, a gold bracelet, chunky rings on two fingers. He’d have looked good on the forecourt at Tony’s My T Motors.

‘Daddy, this is Fitz.’

‘Marty Cole.’ He offered a total package. Banana hand, chunky chronometer, tanned right arm covered in black hair. ‘Heard a lot about you, Fitz. Hope it’s all true. Cherry thinks you’re pretty special.’

Cherry? It made Cheryl sound like a fruit. With a hard kernel.

‘I think she is, too.’

I retrieved my hand and flexed away the pain. He waved at a burgundy-and-cream Cadillac limo. A black guy in a uniform was stowing our bags into its cavernous boot.

‘Let’s ride. We can talk turkey in the Caddy. Good flight?’

‘We slept most of the way.’

‘Sorry to hear about the show, Cherry. That’s how it goes sometimes. Just gotta pick yourself up and start all over again. Ain’t that right, Fitzie?’ Martin punched my arm. It hurt. ‘You know all about rejection.’

Cheryl and Martin sat facing the front, me opposite, the black guy behind a glass partition. As the car eased away from the no-parking zone I wondered how I was going to tell Cheryl’s daddy how much I hated being called Fitzie. About as much as Dad had hated Joker. Slightly more than I hated the name Cherry. And slightly less than I hated Vince Humber. But right then didn’t seem to be the moment.

‘I had a rejection wall in my bedroom. But I don’t think you ever get used to it. Cheryl’s keeping busy looking for somewhere for us to live.’

‘That right?’ Martin gave Cheryl a grin. ‘Something you want to tell me, hon?’

‘Like what, Daddy?’

‘You two?’

He made a circle around the ring finger of his left hand, pursed his fat lips.

‘We’re just going to live together for a while, Daddy. See how things work out.’

Martin frowned.

‘Without getting married? What happens if you have kids?’

‘They’re not on the agenda. We’ve got plenty of time. Fitz hasn’t even got his first book finished yet. And I’ve got to look for another job. Can’t get work if I’m pregnant.’

I sat there, trying to tune in to a conversation which would never have occurred in our family. I couldn’t remember the word ‘pregnant’ ever being uttered at the dinner table. Overdue. Fallen. Half-term. Full-term. The Four Stages of Childbirth. Pregnancy came a close second to menstruation for euphemisms.

Something else was bothering me. Cheryl and I had never discussed children. Never discussed anything about the future. It was enough keeping up with the present. But here she was, five minutes after meeting her dad, expressing attitudes I’d never known she possessed.

‘Doesn’t seem right,’ said Martin. ‘Two people living together without being married. Not as if you’re hippies.’

I tried to look through the dark glasses to see whether there was a hint of irony in his eyes.

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