‘Oh,’ said Treena. ‘And I brought Thom’s spare duvet and pillow. I thought we might as well start bringing bits and bobs down every time we come. I’ve got an appointment to look at that after-school club tomorrow.’
‘It’s wonderful that you’ve got it all sorted out, girls. Treena, if you like, I’ll mind Thom for you. Just let me know.’
We worked around each other, setting out glasses and paper plates, until Mum disappeared to fetch more inadequate napkins. I lowered my voice so that she couldn’t hear. ‘Treen? Is Dad really not coming?’
My sister grimaced, and I tried not to look as dismayed as I felt.
‘Is it really no better?’
‘I’m hoping that when I’m gone they’ll have to talk to each other. They just skirt around each other and talk to me or Thom most of the time. It’s maddening. Mum’s pretending she doesn’t care that he didn’t come down with us, but I know she does.’
‘I really thought he’d be here.’
I had seen my mother twice since the shooting. She had signed up for a new course – modern English poetry – at the adult education centre and now grew wistful at symbols everywhere. Every blown leaf was a sign of impending decrepitude, every airborne bird a sign of hopes and dreams. We had gone once to a live reading of poetry on the South Bank, where she had sat rapt and applauded twice into the silence, and once to the cinema, then on to the loos at the smart hotel, where she had shared sandwiches with Maria in the two easy chairs of the cloakroom. Both times, when we had found ourselves alone, she had been oddly brittle. ‘Well, aren’t we having a lovely time?’ she would say repeatedly, as if challenging me to disagree. And then she would grow quiet or exclaim about the insane price of sandwiches in London.
Treena pulled the bench across, plumping up the cushions she had brought up from downstairs. ‘It’s Granddad I worry about. He doesn’t like all the tension. He changes his socks four times a day and he’s broken two of the buttons on the remote control by over-pressing.’
‘God – there’s a thought. Who would get custody?’
My sister stared at me in horror.
‘Don’t look at me,’ we said in unison.
We were interrupted by the first of the Moving On Circle, Sunil and Leanne, emerging from the cast-iron steps, remarking on the size of the roof terrace, the unexpectedly magnificent view over the east of the City.
Lily arrived at twelve on the dot, throwing her arms around me and letting out a little growl of happiness. ‘I love that dress! You look completely gorgeous.’ She was sun-kissed, her face open and freckled, the tiny hairs on her arms bleached white, clad in a pale blue dress and gladiator sandals. I watched her as she gazed around the roof terrace, clearly delighted to be there again. Camilla, making her way slowly up the fire escape behind her, straightened her jacket and walked over to me, an expression of mild admonishment on her face. ‘You could have waited, Lily.’
‘Why? You’re not some old person.’
Camilla and I exchanged wry glances, and then, almost impulsively, I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She smelt of expensive department stores and her hair was perfect. ‘It’s lovely that you came.’
‘You’ve even looked after my plants.’ Lily was examining everything. ‘I just assumed you’d kill them all. Oh, and this! I like these. Are they new?’ She pointed to two pots I had bought at the flower market the previous week, to decorate the roof for today. I hadn’t wanted cut flowers, or anything that might die.
‘They’re pelargoniums,’ said Camilla. ‘You won’t want to leave them up here over the winter.’
‘She could put fleece over them. Those terracotta pots are heavy to take down.’
‘They still won’t survive,’ said Camilla. ‘Too exposed.’
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘Thom’s coming to live here and we’re not sure he would be safe on the roof, given what happened to me, so we’re shutting it off. If you’d like to take those with you afterwards …’
‘No,’ Lily said, after a moment’s thought. ‘Let’s leave it. It will be nice to just think of it like this. As it was.’
She helped me with a trestle table, and talked a little of school – she was happy there but struggling slightly with the work – and of her mother, who was apparently making eyes at a Spanish architect called Felipe, who had bought the house next door in St John’s Wood. ‘I feel almost sorry for Fuckface. He doesn’t know what’s about to hit him.’
‘But you’re okay?’ I said.
‘I’m fine. Life is pretty good.’ She popped a crisp into her mouth. ‘Granny made me go and see the new baby – did I tell you?’
I must have looked startled. ‘I know. But she said someone had to behave like a grown-up. She actually came with me. She was epically cool. I’m not meant to know but she bought a Jaeger jacket specially. I think she needed more confidence than she let on.’ She glanced over at Camilla, who was chatting to Sam over by the food table. ‘Actually, I felt a bit sad for my grandfather. When he thought nobody was looking he kept gazing at her, like he felt a bit sad at how it had all turned out.’
‘And how was it?’
‘It’s a baby. I mean, they all look the same, don’t they? I think they were on their best behaviour, though. It was all a bit “And how is school, Lily? Would you like to fix a date to come and stay? And would you like to hold your aunt?” Like that doesn’t sound completely weird.’
‘You’ll go and see them again?’
‘Probably. They’re all right, I suppose.’
I glanced over at Georgina, who was talking politely to her father. He laughed, slightly too loudly. He had barely left her side since she had arrived. ‘He calls me twice a week to chat about stuff, and Della keeps going on about how she wants me and the baby to “build a relationship”, like a baby can do anything except eat and scream and poo.’ She pulled a face.
I laughed.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘It’s just good to see you.’
‘Oh. And I brought you something.’
I waited as she pulled a little box out of her bag, and handed it to me. ‘I saw it at this totally tedious antiques fair that Granny made me go to and I thought of you.’