‘No, that’s not the reason. At least, it’s not the reason. It’s one of them, I suppose.’
‘Do you want kids?’
Jenna shrugged. ‘The time’s never been right.’
‘Work?’
‘Yeah, work. And Deano.’ She paused. ‘I mean, he’s a kid himself. A thirty-seven-year-old kid.’
‘I’ve heard rock stars don’t make great dads. Not that I’d know what would. Great dads are in short supply where I’m from.’
‘Where I’m from too,’ Jenna reminded him gently. ‘Though mine was good. I really ought to go out and visit him in Spain one of these days. Maybe when the weather gets cold, eh?’
‘Why are you asking me?’
‘You could come too.’
‘Er, I don’t think so. I don’t do chit-chat with parents.’
He looked anxious and she rubbed his arm.
‘They’d like you,’ she said, though she wasn’t really sure this was the truth.
‘No parent has ever liked me,’ he said. ‘Not even my own.’
She scooped up a tongueful of luscious ice-cream and waited for it to slide down her throat before speaking again.
‘You don’t see yourself as a dad then?’
He laughed bitterly. ‘I don’t even know what a dad is. I mean, I like kids. I prefer them to adults most of the time. But I’m not sure I could eat a whole one, if you know what I mean.’
Jenna smiled. ‘It just seems unimaginable, somehow, doesn’t it? You see parents all around, yet their lives are mysteries to those of us who haven’t crossed into that realm of experience.’
‘I know a stack of dads,’ said Jason. ‘The estate’s full of ’em. It’s just that none of them ever see their kids. I don’t know how they can do it. How can they carry on, day to day, knowing that their own flesh and blood is so close – and not seeing them? I suppose it’s what I’ve always wondered about my own dad. Whoever he is.’
‘Why won’t your mother tell you?’
‘Sometimes she says she’s sworn to secrecy.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Goes to show how much she cares about what I feel. I’m not worthy to know who my own dad is. Then other times she just says she doesn’t know; it could be one of several guys. She has a different excuse for every day of the week. To be honest, she probably doesn’t know. Probably too drunk to remember.’
He closed his fist around a clump of grass and pulled it up with vicious strength.
‘But she does love you,’ said Jenna. ‘And she’s proud of you.’
‘For what that’s worth,’ he said. He crunched down on his cone. ‘I’ve had enough of being angry all the time, Jen. I’ve been angry all these years, and look where it’s got me? Wasting my life.’
‘Not any more,’ she said. ‘Things are going to change for you. They’re already changing.’
‘I’ve got the one change I need, and that’s you,’ he said. ‘I don’t care about anything else.’
He leaned into her and they kissed. Jenna shut her eyes and let it be all and everything. The sounds around them, of oars plashing on the lake, idle laughter, the dull thud of a bat and ball game, merged inside her head into a delicious fuzzy melange. Until another sound shook her out of it.
‘Jenna! Jenna! Is that your new man? Give us a smile. Give us a look.’
Later, over dinner in the hotel’s Michelin-starred restaurant, she was able to laugh about it.
‘Oh God, the looks on their faces when you got up and ran at them. It was as if they were being charged by a homicidal rhino. I’ve never seen a crowd scatter so fast.’
‘Homicidal rhino, thanks. I’ve had better compliments.’ He frowned at the soup, which was unexpectedly cold and had leaves floating on the surface. ‘What the fuck’s this anyway?’