LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘That could change.’ In my pretend world, Anna, Rose and I are going to see some of the warmer, snow-free parts of the world together.

      ‘It could. Gus and I will have Pug when you go away if you take Pug home tonight.’

      I have no room in my life, pretend or otherwise, for a dog. But I still find myself nodding, thinking Rose will love her. ‘Okay,’ I tell her, and Pug seals the deal with a small, runny shit on my lap.

      Gus has prepared the most fabulous birthday meal twenty-four hours later than originally planned. I apologize for cancelling the night before as I sit down, wearing a pair of Leah’s clean jeans, to a sharing platter of melted cheese and artisan bread dipped in sweet balsamic to start. An ex-chef, Gus now runs a successful recruitment consultancy for the catering industry from an office upstairs.

      ‘So,’ Gus says. ‘We’re going up to Windermere to see your parents tomorrow. Why don’t you come?’

      ‘Can’t,’ I dip a piece of garlic bread in the cheesy remnants. ‘I have a dog to mind. She’s too young to drive to the Lake District. She gets car-sick.’

      ‘You’re coming.’ Leah’s eyebrows are arched and her head is shaking. ‘Mum is insisting. You’re ignoring her calls. Please come. Life won’t be worth living if I arrive without you.’

      ‘Can’t. The drive’s too much for Pug.’

      ‘I collected Pug from a breeder in Portsmouth for you. She was fine all the way back in the car. Perfectly happy.’

      ‘You did? Portsmouth? When?’

      ‘I took your birthday off. Fully intended taking you with me for the day but you fucked off and left me at the school gate. So, I drove there on my own.’

      Shit. My face winces an apology. ‘How long are you staying up there for?’

      ‘Leave at seven thirty tomorrow morning, four hours twenty up, lunch and a quick walk, then same back. Gus is driving. Portsmouth and back was enough to knacker me. Pug will love it.’

      I nod, know when I’m beaten, begin to steel myself immediately for my mother’s food and sympathy, for my father’s fragile stares.

      ‘You have to let them care, Jess.’ Leah reads my mind. ‘They’re grieving too,’ she adds.

      Gus is searing the steaks on a hot plate. He turns them over, making zigzag patterns on the flesh. To his right, he stirs a pot of home-made mushroom sauce. Even the sizzle and scent of such lovely food don’t whet my appetite but I will, for his sake, force myself to eat. Pug is asleep at my feet.

      ‘How’s Theo doing?’ Leah is mashing potatoes with what looks like a half-pound of butter. Fine for her because she won’t eat them. Not so good for my already screaming arteries.

      ‘He’s okay, busy … Finn starts secondary school in September. Can you believe that?’

      ‘Yes, but how is he? Theo. How is he doing?’

      I know a loaded question when I hear one and turn to look at my sister.

      ‘Why?’ I arch my eyebrows at her and at the plate of food that Gus has just presented me with. It has the most enormous doorstep of a steak and a mountain of creamy, oozing, buttery mash. There is a serving dish laden with carrots, squash and swede, a celebration of orange vegetables, in the centre of the table.

      ‘Enjoy, birthday girl!’ he beams.

      I smile my thanks.

      ‘Why, Leah?’ I repeat. ‘You know something I don’t?’ I slice through the steak with the serrated knife.

      ‘You know what chambers are like. The place is rife with rumours.’

      There are times I forget that Leah, as a senior practice manager for a firm of barristers, moves in the same circles as Harriet. I feel immediate colour rush to my cheeks.

      ‘Ahh,’ she says, seeing my discomfort, ‘so it’s not rumour then?’

      I sigh loudly. ‘What have you heard?’

      ‘That Harriet’s shagging her boss, Roland. That that’s why she left Theo.’

      I frown, try to chew my food so I won’t have to confirm or deny anything. Leah’s delicate kick in my shins reminds me I won’t get away with that.

      ‘Ouch, do not kick me.’

      ‘Speak. Now.’ She points the sharp end of her knife at me.

      ‘Ladies, ladies …’ Gus shakes his head. ‘Eat up!’ He looks in my direction. ‘Jess, you need to eat, you’re fading away. And Leah, stop gossiping.’

      ‘Yes, Leah. Stop gossiping.’ I play with the steak on my plate. ‘Thank you for this, Gus. I’m sorry again that I cancelled last night.’

      Gus places his fork on his plate and squeezes my forearm with his hand. ‘Forget about it. I’ve told you – no harm done and you’re here now.’ My hand gives his a reassuring tap. He releases me and lifts his wine glass, tilts it in my direction and smiles. His silent toast to me is all that is needed.

      ‘Harriet?’ Leah persists as Gus turns his head fully to glare at her.

      ‘I have no idea if Harriet is shagging anyone,’ I reply.

      ‘If it’s true, I suppose that means they’re over?’

      ‘Let’s hope not.’ As I speak the words aloud, I’m not sure I mean them. In the many years I’ve known Theo, Harriet has always been pleasant, always been polite, but she tolerates more than likes me. I’ve sat at her dinner table; we spent last Christmas together, all of us: me, Anna and Rose. She constantly says the ‘right thing’ to me, but more often than not it has a ring of insincerity to it – except maybe after Anna’s accident. She did write me a lovely letter then. My face flushes guiltily as I tell myself off for thinking badly of her, and at the same time hand Pug her first illicit mouthful of steak.

      It’s 11.50 p.m. and I’ve texted Theo’s mobile to let him know I’m standing outside his front door. Moments later he opens it, rubs sleep from his eyes.

      ‘Jess? It’s late … Bloody hell, is that a dog in your hand?’

      ‘It’s ten to twelve. Happy Valentine’s Day and yes, I’m carrying a dog. Say hi to Pug. Apparently I need a recipient for all my unconditional love.’

      ‘Valentine’s Day … Really?’ He scratches his head above his right ear, just along the line where his hair changes from black to grey, stifles a yawn. ‘And there are always conditions in love,’ he says.

      ‘When did you become such a cynic?’ I shiver. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’

      He holds the door open for me to pass under his arm. ‘Go through. I’ll put the kettle on,’ he says.

      I cross Harriet’s threshold close to midnight. As I’m doing it, I know I wouldn’t be if she were still here.

      ‘I’m sorry for getting you up.’ I look around the huge kitchen as we listen to the beginning hum of the kettle. ‘Have you changed something in here? It looks different.’

      ‘Just a coat of paint. I did it last week.’

      ‘Looks good.’ I can imagine him, up a stepladder every evening, the news channel on full blast on the television, trying hard to keep busy. ‘There’s something I want to say.’

      He’s dangling a couple of tea bags in two mugs, one in each hand. ‘Hmmm?’ he says.

      ‘I was at Leah’s earlier, finally got around to eating the birthday dinner Gus planned – anyway, she asked me about you and I realized that I’ve been too immersed in my own life to …’ Pug is pacing Theo’s quarry tiles, picks a spot in the corner near the Aga and squats. I’m there immediately

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