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an Italian coffee shop up the street, I have coffee there quite often—’

      ‘By yourself?’

      Philippa smiled. ‘By myself. I take a newspaper or book, I’m not the only one. Anyway, this morning, as I was passing, I stopped in for coffee and the young man there, Francesco, asked if I wanted “the usual”. I’ve met this man a dozen times and already he knows how I like my coffee; I lived with George for more than forty years, and still he’d add too much milk.’

      ‘But that was just George. I’ve always known how you have your coffee, so do Gray and Melanie.’ And Jeremy probably did too, but Evelyn would prefer not to mention him.

      ‘Yes, of course you do dear, but that’s not the point. Francesco knows how I take my coffee; Lucia, his partner, knows the cakes I prefer; I walk past the newsagent and the proprietor smiles at me, so, too, the people in the hardware. The butcher knows the cuts I like, Janet in the bookshop knows what I read.’ Philippa shrugged, ‘I’m very happy.’

      ‘I’m sure you are. But these people are strangers. We’re your family, we’re not the same as butchers and booksellers; we love you and need you and understand what you’re going through. We know that when you share your life with the one person for forty years there’s bound to be a period of adjustment when he’s no longer around. Philippa, dear, we understand what a difficult time you’re having, and—’

      ‘But I’m not, or at least, not any more. As I said before, I’m very happy. I’m full of energy, feel very much alive.’

      ‘But your family needs you, we love you.’ Somehow the words sounded very lame.

      Philippa smiled, an expression without humour. ‘yes, I know, but you don’t recognize me.’

      ‘I think you’re being too harsh. We’ve always appreciated you, always loved you. Of course, if there’s something else you’re wanting, then all you have to do is ask. You know we’d do anything for you. We all need you so much and everyone’s so upset.’

      ‘But Evelyn dear, I’m here. I haven’t left the country, I see you all several times a week, and if you need me at any other time, I’m at the end of the telephone.’ She leaned forward, face creased with concern. ‘Don’t you understand? You’re all very precious to me. As for the children, I’d be utterly distraught without them.’

      Evelyn shook her head, it wasn’t fair, she was doing her best, but Philippa was being deliberately difficult.

      ‘Philippa, we want what’s best for you, and to be blunt, what’s best for you is not living miles away from the rest of us. Here you are, all by yourself, and in an area that by the looks of it is none too safe. And how do you plan to spend your time? You’ve given up your charity work, you have no friends nearby, and you can’t expect us to drive for miles just so you can see your grandchildren. We want to look after you, and we can’t do it properly while you’re involved with this nonsense. Of course we understand, but you have to help us help you.’

      Philippa’s gaze was steady, her face serious, apparently thinking. She refilled her glass, Evelyn had hardly touched hers.

      ‘I know you mean well, Evelyn, but the fact of the matter is I don’t want to return home, I don’t want to go back, and neither do I need looking after. I’ve plenty to do and much more planned, and I’m happy. Just because I’ve moved house—’

      ‘It’s not just the house, there was the trip to Japan, you’ve dropped your charities, and you’re seeing none of your old friends.’

      ‘Just because I’ve made a few changes, doesn’t mean I’ve deserted the family. Far from it. And besides, how could I? How could you think I’d want to? You mention my grandchildren, well, since I moved over here, I’ve seen more of them than ever before, and because I’ve so much more energy, so much more to offer, our time together has been of a much better quality. As for anything else, an unforeseen happening or something extra you want me to do, I’m always available. But I’m not going back; I’m sixty-two, I have a right to this.’

      ‘I hardly recognize you, Philippa. You’ve always been so unselfish, always put your family first.’

      Philippa appeared to have stopped listening, she was offering Peach morsels of food, murmuring fond words of encouragement. To the dog, not Evelyn. And Evelyn realized her approach was all wrong; this was not the time for recriminations, although no one could deny they weren’t warranted, a change of direction, a little sympathy, would be more appropriate.

      ‘We want you to be happy, Philippa, believe me we do, and we’re pleased for your new interests, after all, you’ve got a lot of life left in you. And despite what you think, we’ve always been supportive of you, and will continue to be as long as your interests aren’t to the detriment of the family.’

      ‘And they’re not. All I’ve done is increase the dimensions of my life. I don’t love you any less, nor am I any less concerned about you, I’m simply trying to incorporate more in my life. And any honest person would have to admit that mine was a life desperately in need of expansion.’

      ‘I really don’t think that’s fair, yours was a perfectly good life, a marvellous life. Plenty of people would have been happy to trade places.’ She popped a pickled onion in her mouth without thinking, then quickly followed with some camembert as if the latter could erase the former’s vulgarity. ‘Besides, people are talking.’

      Philippa laughed. ‘That’s never bothered me. People talked for years about George and Lorraine Pascoe and I never minded.’

      Evelyn was annoyed, certain topics were best left unsaid, and a long-time mistress of your husband’s was one. Although it suddenly occurred to her why Philippa may have wanted to escape her old life. Perhaps she was embarrassed to face her old friends, that, despite her bravado, she really did mind about Lorraine Pascoe. Evelyn certainly would, Evelyn would have found the role of grieving widow impossible if there had been a long-time mistress on the scene. Thank heavens good steady Gray had not taken after his father. And again she found herself feeling sorry for Philippa. She took a sip of wine, leaned forward, an expression of sympathy grafted across her features.

      ‘Is there something wrong, something you’d like to talk about? Some difficulty perhaps?’

      Philippa shook her head.

      ‘You can confide in me,’ Evelyn persisted. ‘I’m not as easily shocked as you might think. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?’

      There was nothing, Philippa said, and then added with a laugh, except perhaps too many options. She wanted to travel, South America was a possibility, and she was interested in the University of the Third Age, but was yet to decide on her subjects, perhaps she’d even try some part-time work. ‘I really don’t know what I’ll end up doing, but for the moment, it’s quite exhilarating to know that almost anything’s possible.’

      ‘You know that’s not what I meant.’

      Philippa looked genuinely surprised.

      ‘Have you thought about seeing someone?’

      ‘Someone?’

      ‘A professional, someone who can help you. I know Gina Ballantyne found a very good therapist for her daughter when she was going through a rough patch.’

      Philippa smiled. ‘Are you suggesting I’m going through an adolescent phase? Is that how it appears to you?’

      ‘I didn’t mean it like that. But something has to explain your behaviour.’

      ‘And so it does. I want a change, it’s as simple as that.’

      Evelyn saw she was getting nowhere, and with just under half an hour before she would need to leave, decided to change the topic and clear the air. For there would be a return visit, possibly several, and she did not want to antagonize her mother-in-law at this early stage. So she chatted on about nothing in particular, who had announced their engagement, whose divorce was

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