‘I’m here with my teenage daughter, Frankie. She lives in Albany with her mum, my ex-wife. I come over to the States once a year to see her, and last summer we stayed in New York but it was so insanely hot I couldn’t face it again.’
‘Very wise.’
‘Yeah. I thought so. My daughter seems less impressed.’
‘Let me guess. There’s no internet! It’s child cruelty! My son is exactly the same.’
‘How old is he?’
‘Just turned fifteen.’ David removed his baseball cap and scratched his head where a cowlick stuck up. ‘I’m trying to remember if I whined as much when I was that age. Pretty sure I did. Least that’s what Connie says. That’s my wife.’ At the mention of her name, he must have remembered something because he said, ‘I’d better get back.’
‘Okay. Nice to meet you.’
He turned to go, then stopped. ‘Hey, we’re gonna be neighbours. We should get to know each other. Why don’t you come over later? I’ve got some steaks for the barbecue, plenty of beer and wine.’
‘I’m not sure. I’m pretty jet-lagged. I flew over from London overnight and I’ve been awake for . . .’ I had actually lost count. ‘Twenty-four hours?’
‘You have to stay up as long as you can – acclimate to the time zone.’
‘Also, Frankie and I are vegetarian,’ I said.
‘No problem. We’ve got plenty of veggie food too.’ He strode away before I could protest, calling over his shoulder, ‘See you at seven, okay?’
I went back into my cabin. Frankie was still in her room, presumably unpacking. I was going to knock on her door but decided to leave it. Listening to David criticise his son’s ‘whining’ had reminded me I didn’t want to be that kind of dad. I couldn’t afford to be, not when Frankie and I lived thousands of miles apart.
Frankie accompanied me reluctantly, finally giving in because there was ‘nothing else to do’ and we didn’t have any food in the cabin yet.
‘I should have consulted you,’ I said. ‘About the lack of Wi-Fi, I mean. I’m sorry.’
She grunted, but I could see she was pleased.
David was out on the deck, wearing an apron and prodding at the barbecue with a pair of tongs. He greeted us loudly and enthusiastically, then yelled, ‘Hey, Connie!’
His wife came outside. She had long, dark hair and striking blue eyes, and walked with the aid of a stick.
‘I have arthritis,’ she said, seeing us both glance at the stick. ‘It’s a bitch. But at least it gives me an excuse to carry this deadly-ass weapon with me at all times.’
‘In case I’m a bad boy,’ said David, giving her an adoring look, which she returned. Some couples you can just tell: they love each other to pieces, no matter how long they’ve been together. ‘Hey, Tom, can you watch this while I grab some drinks?’
I took the tongs and attended to the food while he went inside, coming out a few minutes later dragging a cooler full of beer and wine.
With him was his teenage son. ‘This is Ryan,’ said David.
I caught the reaction on Frankie’s face. She had been standing a few yards from the cabin, scuffing the ground with her shoe, suffering TikTok withdrawal or whatever, but as soon as Ryan appeared she stopped slouching and did a double take.
I wasn’t surprised. Ryan was a good-looking boy. He had his mother’s dark hair and the kind of cheekbones that have launched pop careers. He looked like something out of one of the teen shows Frankie loved, like Riverdale. Or used to love. I wasn’t sure. Earlier, in the car, I had said something about Taylor Swift, who used to be Frankie’s idol, and she had rolled her eyes.
‘Hi,’ Frankie said, not quite looking at Ryan.
My instinct as a father was to step between them, to form a barrier, but I recognised immediately that this would be a mistake. Besides, maybe Frankie would stop sulking now.
‘You kids want Coke? Sprite? Dew?’ David had a great variety of sodas in his cooler.
Frankie and Ryan each took a Diet Coke, and Ryan said, in a confident and friendly tone, ‘Hey. I was gonna check out the lake.’
Frankie looked to me for permission and I reminded myself she wasn’t a child any more. I nodded.
‘A summer fling, huh?’ said David after the teens were out of earshot, and I couldn’t help but balk at his words. He laughed. ‘Hey, it’s cool. I don’t know what it’s like to have a daughter, but Ryan’s a good kid.’