It Had to Be You Read Online Free PDF Page A

the more important for people who love each other as much as her mother and I love her to stick together and support each other. We just want to see her, Chuck.’
    Saying ‘we’ made him feel slightly better about making the call on his own.
    ‘Yeah. Right. Cool. Got that. Will do.’
    It was five years since he’d heard his daughter’s voice. She had rung, once, about two years ago, to say she was all right, but it was Deborah who had answered. Charlotte had left them a phone number, but had said that she would disappear for ever if they rang except in emergencies. They had phoned when a favourite godmother died, but by that time Charlotte had moved on. He wondered how much of what she had experienced in those five years would be reflected in her voice. But, when the voice came, it was Chuck’s again.
    ‘Hi there. Sorry. No dice,’ he said.
    James found himself nodding his head in acknowledgement that this was what he had expected, as if Chuck was in the room with him. He almost felt that Chuck was in the room with him.
    ‘Well, thank you for trying.’
    ‘No probs. Um …’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘She didn’t sound angry. She didn’t say anything negative about you.’
    ‘Are you saying that that’s … surprising … unusual?’
    ‘Well, it is a bit, yeah. Sorry.’
    ‘No, no. Thank you. I …’ What? Nothing. This was all too difficult. ‘Well, thank you, Chuck. That’s something, I suppose.’
    ‘I think it might be.’
    Chuck’s reply surprised James, but his own next remark surprised him even more. He found himself saying, ‘Chuck? Look after my baby.’
    ‘I do try, Mr Hollinghurst.’
    ‘Do you know something, Chuck? I actually believe you.’
    As he’d talked to Chuck, James had almost felt relieved that he was talking about Charlotte rather than to her. But as soon as he had rung off he felt devastated that he had been so close to his daughter but still had not spoken to her.
    He looked at his glass indecisively, then went to the gin bottle and added quite a slurp of gin, but no more Noilly Prat.
    Why hadn’t he asked more? Why hadn’t he probed?
    Because he sensed that of all the courses he could take, probing would annoy her the most. He would have to wait till she was ready.
    If she was ever ready.
    ‘Oh, Debs, where are you?’ He realised that he had actually said the words out loud. He needed her there. He needed to tell her what was emerging as the most important, the most amazing point of all. Charlotte was alive and at least to a certain extent well and things were good enough to be described as cool and she was at the end of a telephone line and he knew the number and she was with a man and for no reason whatsoever and against all probability he trusted this man.
    He tried to rehearse the words he would use, but no words fitted. ‘Debs, there’s great news.’ Well, was it ‘great’? Was that the word? ‘Debs, I’ve found Charlotte.’ Well, not entirely. The words would come when he saw her, the strength of her presence would dictate the words. He stood at the window and looked for her car as she tried to find a parking place. The roof would be down and her straw-coloured hair would be streaming behind her and he would pour her a drink and within minutes they would be talking about their beloved, lost daughter. He was amazed to find how clearly he imagined her, how deeply he needed her, at this visceral moment. He took several sips of his drink in his excitement. It was a long while since he had wanted to share anything with Deborah as much as he wanted to share this news. It was really annoying of her to be late this day of all days. It was the Irish in her. He drowned his irritation with another sip. This was no time to be irritated. This … conditional though it might be, strange though it might be, terrifying though it might still be … was joy.
    He had completely forgotten Marcia’s remark about the police, but the moment the knock came, he remembered, and from the