‘Coffee,’ I say briskly. ‘Sit down.’ I head over to the kettle, and reach for our strongest espresso blend. I can’t believe I’m trying to sober up my dad. What is going on? Mum would be livid.
As I’m pouring hot water into the French press, I can hear Dad and Tarkie murmuring to each other behind me. I turn sharply, but they don’t even notice me. I hear Tarkie saying, ‘Bryce,’ and Dad saying, ‘Yes, yes. Yes. He’s the man. Bryce’s the man.’
‘Here you are!’ I put the cups down sharply, trying to shock them into sense.
‘Oh, Becky.’ As Dad looks up, his face is wreathed in fondness. ‘My little girl, a star in Hollywood. I’m so proud of you, Becky, my love.’
‘You’re famous,’ chimes in Tarkie. ‘Famous! We were in a bar and you came on the TV. We said, “We know her!” Your father said, “That’s my daughter!”’
‘I did.’ Dad nods drunkenly.
‘He did.’ Tarkie regards me solemnly. ‘What does it feel like, being famous, Becky? Fame!’ he suddenly sings loudly. For a dreadful moment I think he’s going to start singing the Fame song and dancing on the table, but he clearly doesn’t know the rest, so he just sings ‘Fame!’ again.
‘Drink your coffee,’ I say, but less sternly than before. I feel quite mollified by their interest. You see? They get it. They realize I’m famous. ‘It feels … well, I suppose I’ve got used to it now.’ I shrug carelessly. ‘I mean, obviously life will never be the same …’
‘You’re one of them.’ Dad nods sagely. ‘She’s one of them.’ He turns to Tarkie, who nods back. ‘She mingles with the famous people. Tell me who you’ve met, darling.’
‘Heaps of people,’ I say, basking in their admiration. ‘I hang out loads with Sage, and I met Lois, obviously, and … er …’ Who was that ancient guy at the benefit? ‘I met Dix Donahue, and I’ve got April Tremont’s phone number, she’s in that sitcom One of Them, and—’
‘Dix Donahue!’ Dad’s face has crinkled up with delight. ‘Now, he’s a big name. One of the greats. Your mother and I used to watch him every week.’
‘We got on really well,’ I boast. ‘We chatted for ages. He was such a nice man.’
‘Did you get his autograph for me?’ Dad’s face is all lit up with excitement. ‘Show me the book, love. It must be full by now!’
It’s as if something cold trickles down my back. Dad’s autograph book. Shit. Dad’s autograph book. I’d forgotten all about that. I don’t even know where it is. Still in a suitcase somewhere? I haven’t given it one single thought since I arrived in LA.
‘I … um …’ I rub my nose. ‘Actually, I didn’t get his autograph, Dad. It … it wasn’t the right time to ask. I’m sorry.’
‘Oh.’ Dad looks crestfallen. ‘Well, you know best, Becky. Whose autographs have you got?’
‘I haven’t … actually … got any.’ I swallow. ‘I thought I’d get to know the place first.’ I make the mistake of looking at Dad, and I can see from his face that he knows I’m lying. ‘But I will!’ I add hastily. ‘I’ll get loads! I promise.’
I get to my feet and start stacking plates from the dishwasher, trying to fill the silence in the kitchen. Dad doesn’t speak. At last I dart another look at him, and he’s just sitting there, his face craggy with disappointment. Tarquin seems to have fallen asleep with his head on the table, so it’s only me and Dad, not saying anything.
I feel all prickly with guilt and resentment and frustration as I crash the plates into their piles. Why does everyone keep making me feel bad about stuff? At last Dad draws in breath and looks up at me.
‘Becky, love, there’s something I’d like to say—’
‘Sorry, Dad,’ I cut him off. ‘I need to go and check on the children. I’ll be back in a while, OK?’
I cannot face one of Dad’s Little Talks. Not right now. I head upstairs and tuck all the children in, then lurk in Minnie’s darkened room for a long while, sitting with my head against her cot bars, listening to her twirly-ballerina music box.
I don’t want to see Dad. I don’t want to see Luke, either. Where’s Suze? I try her number, but her phone’s switched off. In the cot, Minnie gives one of her sleepy snuffles and turns over, sucking her rabbit, all cosy under the covers. I eye her enviously. Life is so simple for her.