Page 28 of Never

‘I do.’

‘And I hope to send Pippa to school in the morning with a more conciliatory attitude.’

‘Thank you, Madam President. I appreciate that.’

‘Goodbye.’ Pauline hung up.

‘Well done,’ said Gerry.

‘Let’s have dinner.’

They left the room and walked through the long Center Hall and across the West Sitting Hall to the Dining Room on the north side of the building, with two windows onto Pennsylvania Avenue and Lafayette Square. Pauline had restored the antique wallpaper that showed battle scenes from the American Revolution, previously covered over by the Clintons.

Pippa came in, looking chastened.

Family dinners were eaten in this room, usually early in the evening. The food was always simple. Tonight they had a salad followed by pasta with tomato sauce, and fresh pineapple for dessert.

At the end of the meal Pippa said: ‘Okay, I’m going to tell Mr Newbegin that I’m sorry I was a pain in the ass.’

‘Good decision,’ said Pauline. ‘Thank you for listening.’

Gerry said: ‘But say “pain in the neck” instead.’

‘You got it, Daddy.’

When Pippa had gone, Pauline said: ‘I’ll take my coffee in the West Wing.’

‘I’ll tell the kitchen.’

‘What will you do tonight?’

‘I have an hour’s work to do for the foundation. When Pippa’s finished her homework we’ll probably watch TV for a while.’

‘Great.’ She kissed him. ‘I’ll see you later.’

She walked back around the colonnade then through the Oval Office and out the other side. Next to the Oval Office was the Study, a small informal room where Pauline preferred to work. The Oval Office was a ceremonial room that people walked into and out of all the time, but when the president was in the Study she was mostly left alone, and no one came in without knocking and waiting for an answer. With a desk, two armchairs and a TV screen it was really quite cramped, but Pauline liked it and most previous presidents had felt the same.

She spent three hours making phone calls and preparing for the next day’s business, then she returned to the Residence. She went straight to the Master Bedroom. Gerry was already in bed in his pyjamas, readingForeign Affairsmagazine. As she undressed she said: ‘I remember being fourteen. I was a hellion. Hormones have a lot to do with it.’

‘You may be right,’ he said without looking up.

She could tell from his tone of voice that he meant the opposite. She said: ‘Do you have another theory?’

He did not answer the question directly. ‘I presume most of the kids in the class are going through hormonal changes. But Pippa is the only one acting up.’

They did not actually know whether others in the class were misbehaving, but Pauline refrained from making a merely argumentative point. Mildly she said: ‘I wonder why?’ She thought she knew the answer. Pippa was like her, a born crusader. But she waited for Gerry’s opinion.

He said: ‘In a fourteen-year-old, behaviour like this may be a sign that something is wrong.’

Pauline said patiently: ‘And what do you think is wrong in Pippa’s life?’

‘She may want more attention.’

‘Really? She has you, she has me, she has Ms Judd. She sees her grandparents.’

‘Maybe she doesn’t see enough of her mother.’

Pauline thought: So is it my fault?