Misspent Youth

34. HAPPY BIRTHDAY

IT WAS ANNABELLE who had to get the door when the bell rang. Roger Goddard was confused by the sound. It was only quarter past eight in the morning, and this wasn’t the day when the Community Supply Service van came to restock their house with food. He didn’t know what to do about the insistent tone of the bell, it didn’t belong in his routine.

She pulled her worn old bathrobe over her equally faded knee-length T-shirt and opened the door, making sure the security chain was engaged. A young man was standing on the step, a safety helmet under his arm, electronic pad in his hand. The e-trike parked behind him had a florist franchise logo on its cool storage box.

“Ms. Goddard?”

“That’s me.” She started to smile as soon as she realized what was happening.

“I have two deliveries for you.”

“Oh that’s great. Wait. Two?”

She had to sign twice on the pad before he’d hand the bouquets over. One was big, twenty red roses just starting to open, complemented by long graceful white orchids. That was from Jeff. The other was even bigger, a wide cone of gold and royal-purple paper containing a vast array of flowers, half of which she couldn’t name. The little card that came with it said:

I never knew losing you could hurt so much

Please forgive me.

If you can’t, have a wonderful birthday anyway.

Tim

Annabelle slumped against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, wincing broadly. “Oh bugger.” Get over me, Tim, please.

“Flowers,” Roger said quizzically. He’d emerged from the living room to blink in the daylight that streamed in through the front door’s frosted glass. “They’re yours, aren’t they?”

Annabelle resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. “Yes, Dad. Why don’t you go into the kitchen, I’ll make us some breakfast.”

Her father looked from her to the flowers, then back to her again. His lower lip started to tremble. Tears welled up in his eyes. “It’s your birthday.”

Oh Christ. “Yes, Dad.”

“I forgot your birthday. My daughter’s birthday.”

“It’s okay,” she said brightly. “You can nip out and get me a card later.”

His arms dangled loosely by his sides as his head bowed forward. “I am such a useless fuck-up. How could I forget? That’s so horrible of me. Horrible! I’m a horrible person. I don’t want to be like this, I really don’t.”

“Please, Dad, don’t.”

“You’re eighteen today. You should be having a fabulous party at a hotel or the town hall. There should be people there, lots of lovely people. And a band playing music. And food; a banquet. And I forgot. I forgot my own daughter’s birthday!” His hands came up to slap hard against his forehead. He did it again, then again.

“Dad, don’t.” She had to shift the bouquets around to free a hand so she could grab hold of him. “Stop it, please.”

He twisted his head from side to side. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’ll go out for lunch together, all right? A nice lunch at the Falcon Hotel. Just you and me. How about that?”

“Really? You want to go out with me?”

“Of course I do. You’re my dad.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You’ll have to find something to wear. Why don’t you go and check your wardrobe.”

“Okay.” His attention switched to the flowers. “Are they from your boyfriend?”

Her hand curled round Tim’s card, crumpling it. “Yes.”

“Oh Annabelle, you should be out having lunch with him, being happy together. You don’t want a meal with me.”

“Yes I do. I’m seeing…him later.”

“You are?” Roger seemed pleased with the idea.

“Yes. We’re going out this evening. He’s going to take me to a restaurant, then a club. Some of my friends are coming as well. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Good. That’s good. I’m going to go and find something to wear. Something decent, something suitable to take my lovely daughter out to lunch with.”

She held up the bouquets again, aghast by how over the top Tim’s was, then went into the kitchen to find a vase.

THE CHAMPAGNE CORK POPPED as soon as Annabelle opened the suite’s door. She gave a little start of surprise, which melted into a smile when she saw Jeff with the foaming magnum in his hands.

“Happy birthday,” he said.

She ran across the room and flung her arms around him, kissing him exuberantly. “Thank you. The flowers were lovely.”

He kissed her back. “They were just the warm-up. I’ve got your real present here. Now sit down and help me pour. Krug is far too expensive to let it spill all over the carpet.”

She plunked herself down on the edge of the bed and held up a pair of saucer glasses for him to fill.

“So, good birthday?”

“Actually, not until I got here, no.”

“Why, what happened? Oh, cheers.”

“Cheers.” She touched the rim of her saucer to his. “Dad forgot it was my birthday. He was really upset when he realized, so I had to spend most of the morning calming him down. Mum sent me an avtxt greeting. But it was the same as last year’s; I think her computer is programmed to send it.”

“Ah, God bless diary programs.”

“And Tim sent me flowers as well. He even used the same site as you did to order them.”

“Ah.” Jeff grimaced. “Well, we can stay here till late if you’d like.”

“Can we?” She brightened considerably at the prospect. “Can we really?”

“Sure. I’ve not got to get back. Neither have you.”

“I so much want to spend the whole night with you.”

“We will. I might even manage better than that. I’ve got a physics conference in America scheduled in a couple of weeks. Fancy being my assistant?”

“You’re joking!”

“No.”

“Oh my God, America. With you. Oh Jeff, that would be superb.”

“Nothing firm yet, but I think I can swing it.”

She tilted her head up and kissed him again. “Thank you.”

“Now let’s have a look at what we’ve got here.” He sat on the bed beside her, and pointed to a pair of boxes on the side table. They were both wrapped in dark purple paper, tied with scarlet ribbons.

Annabelle flashed him a dazzling smile. “Which one first?”

“That one, I think.”

The first present was sensual black lace underwear. “Thanks,” she said with a mischievous grin. She needed something to replace the silk negligée, which was now quite badly torn.

He handed her the second present, a slim case. Annabelle was almost afraid to open it; she knew it was jewelry of some kind.

A gold necklace chain sat on the case’s black velvet. The pendant was an ultramodern-styled platinum triangle, with a diamond on each point. The sight of it stopped her breath. It must have cost a fortune, and he’d spent it on her.

“Oh God, Jeff, it’s beautiful.”

“Stand up,” he said. “Let me put it on.”

He undressed her carefully, and fastened the necklace round her neck.

Standing there naked, the cool metal resting on the skin between her breasts, placed there by her lover, was an incredibly erotic sensation.

“Perfect,” Jeff announced.

Annabelle’s eyes were fluttering half closed. She smiled warmly at him and took his hand, licking the tip of his thumb. “I’m going to give you a thank-you for my present. A very special thank you.” She tilted her head right back, and slowly tipped her champagne saucer up until the liquid splashed over the front of her neck. It began to foam as it cascaded down her chest and across her breasts. “But first, I want one more present from you.”