Free The Last Winter of Dani Lancing: A Novel by P. D. Viner Page A

dig of pain, he watched her whenever he could. Inthe eight years following their doomed nativity they barely spoke, even though they continued to be in the same class all the way through primary and into secondary school. Tom was too shy, Dani too popular.
    Then at the start of this school year, when they were both assessed and found to be in the top twenty percent of the population in terms of intelligence, they were placed in English Literature One. Together, at the same desk, they were forced to talk about love. John Keats.
    She breaks the tape, no one anywhere near her. He claps, watching her swing around the extra bend as she slows, her limbs powering down. He must stop gazing now … now … now! He pulls his head away with some effort, and looks across the stand. Her father’s there; he’s still watching her and clapping hard. He seems not to know the decorum of school sports day. A few other parents look at him with some distaste. They believe he’s gloating, although Tom thinks he’s merely a man visibly filled with pride. For a second he wonders what it would be like to have such a father. Then the man, still clapping, looks sideways and sees the boy staring at him. For a second their eyes lock and then the boy holds up both of his thumbs signaling he too is in the Dani Lancing fan club. The man smiles, then turns back to admire his daughter once more. The boy can feel himself turn red. Even at fourteen he knows the double thumbs is juvenile (for a short while Arthur Fonzarelli had made it fashionable, but anybody actually cool knew that time had long gone).
    He picks up the briefcase his mother insists he uses, even though he is mocked for it, and walks down the line of seats toward the exit. He’ll not look back at her. He knows that by now she will be surrounded by handsome athletes. He walks away. There’s a kiosk nearby that sells ice cream, cake and drinks. He doesn’t feel likegoing home just yet, so he heads over and buys a Zoom. He sits on a bench overlooking the bowling green and bites into the cold. He replays the race in his head, watching Dani stretch and—
    “Excuse me,” a voice calls out from a little way off.
    The boy does not look up, assuming someone else is being called.
    “Excuse me … Mr. Briefcase.”
    Tom looks up and sees it’s Dani Lancing’s father calling him. The man half-waves, then walks across the bowling green toward him.
    “I’m sorry, sorry to shout. I don’t know your name so, Briefcase. Nice case by the way. My grandfather had one just like it.” The older man reaches the younger one and stops. “Jim. Jim Lancing. I’m Danielle’s father.”
    “Tom,” the boy says, not standing. Jim holds out his hand and awkwardly they shake.
    Though it is still a pretty warm afternoon, Tom can’t help but feel a chill run down his back. Is it obvious, can this man see how Tom feels about his daughter?
    “How can I help?” Tom asks.
    “You seemed to know Dani.”
    “A little. We’re in English Lit together.”
    “Well, have you any idea where she might have gone? I was meant to be taking her home, at least I thought I was but …”
    There was a party for the sporty and attractive kids, something Tom would never be invited to. He was about to tell her father the address but some alarm bell went off in his head.
    “No. No, sorry, I don’t know where she is,” he lied.
    “Okay.” They both just stand there. Tom feels his Zoom begin to drip. Finally the older man says, “Well, thanks.”
    Jim Lancing walks off, a little unsure about where to go andwhat to do. Tom watches until he disappears. Then he picks up his case and heads toward Islington and the party. Obviously he wasn’t invited, but now he bears a message. That is his ticket to get in and get close to her. It’s slight, he knows that, but maybe it’s just enough to allow him entrance to the inner sanctum.

TWELVE
    Saturday, December 18, 2010
    Patty walks to the cafe, all the while feeling the