Free The Gift by Cecelia Ahern Page B

busy Daddy is; it’s very hard for me to get there.”
    “But I’ve been practicing.”
    “Why don’t you show me now, and then I won’t have to see you later.”
    “But I’m not wearing my costume.”
    “That’s okay. I’ll use my imagination. Mum always says it’s good to do that, doesn’t she?” He kept an eye on the door to make sure Ruth wasn’t listening. “And you can do it for me while I get dressed, okay?”
    He threw the covers off and, as Lucy started prancing around, he rushed around the room, throwing on sweats and a T-shirt in which to work out.
    “Daddy, you’re not looking!”
    “I am, sweetheart. Come downstairs to the gym with me. There are lots of mirrors there for you to practice in front of. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”
    A few minutes later he was on the treadmill. He turned on the TV and started watching Sky News, hardly noticing his daughter performing for him.
    “Daddy, you’re not looking.”
    “I am, sweetie.” He glanced at her once. “What are you playing?”
    “A leaf. It’s a windy day and I fall off the tree and I have to go like this.” She twirled around the gym and Lou looked back at the TV.
    “What’s a leaf got to do with Jesus?”
    She shrugged, and he had to laugh.
    “Will you come to see me tonight, pleeeease?”
    “Yep,” he said, wiping his face on a towel.
    “Promise?”
    “Absolutely,” he said dismissively. “Okay, you go back up to your mum now. I’ve to take a shower.”
     
    T WENTY MINUTES LATER AND ALREADY in work mode, Lou went into the kitchen to say a quick good-bye to everyone. Bud was in his high chair, rubbing banana into his hair; Lucy was sucking on a spoon and watching cartoons at top volume; and Ruth was in her nightgown making Lucy’s school lunch. She looked exhausted.
    “Bye.” He kissed Lucy on the head; she didn’t budge, completely engrossed in her cartoon. He hovered above Bud, trying to find a place on his face that wasn’t covered in food. “Eh, bye.” He pecked him awkwardly on the top of his head. Then he made his way around to Ruth.
    “Do you want to meet me there at six or go together from here?”
    “Where?”
    “The school.”
    “Oh. About that.” He lowered his voice.
    “You have to go; you promised.” She stopped buttering the bread to look at him in anger.
    “Lucy showed me the dance downstairs and we had atalk, so she’s fine about me not being there.” He picked at a slice of ham on the cutting board. “Do you know why the hell she’s a leaf in a nativity play?”
    Ruth laughed. “Lou, I know you’re playing with me. I told you to put this in your diary last month. And then I reminded you last week, and I called that woman Tracey at the office—”
    “Ah, that’s what happened.” He clicked his fingers in a gosh-darn-it kind of way. “Wires crossed. Tracey’s gone. Alison replaced her. So maybe there was a problem when they switched over.” He tried to say it playfully, but Ruth’s face of disappointment, hatred, and disgust, all rolled into one, stopped him.
    “I mentioned it twice last week. I mentioned it yesterday morning. I’m like a frigging parrot with you, and you still don’t remember. The school play tonight and then dinner with your mum, dad, Alexandra, and Quentin. And Marcia might be coming, if she can move around her therapy session.”
    “No, she really shouldn’t miss that.” Lou rolled his eyes. “Ruthy, please, I would rather stick pins in my eyes than have dinner with them.”
    “They’re your family, Lou.”
    “All Quentin talks about are boats. Boats, boats, and more bloody boats. It is totally beyond him to think of any other conversation that doesn’t involve the words boom and cleat .”
    “You used to love sailing with Quentin.”
    “I used to love sailing. Not necessarily with Quentin,and that was years ago.” He groaned. “And Marcia…it’s not therapy she needs, it’s a good kick in the ass.”
    “Tough,” Ruth said, continuing with