- •Harriet evans ))))))
- •If you close your eyes, perhaps you can still see them. As they were that sundrenched afternoon, the day everything changed.
- •Part one February 2009
- •I nod instead. 'Of course,' I say. 'Have you booked a cabin?'
- •I blink, trying to take it in. 'So?'
- •I can't answer this, as I know she's right, but I can't agree with her without hurting her feelings. 'I just don't know, Mum,' I say. 'I look at our life together and I—'
- •Frances Seymour
- •I'm going to scream. I'm going to scream. Yes, I am.
- •I don't care about their damn c/othes.
- •If Louisa was surprised at this sudden confidence from her brother, she didn't show it. 'She is rather a funny old thing, isn't she,' she said casually. 'What do you mean exactly?'
- •Into the silence that followed this statement came Mary. 'Now, does anyone want some more coffee?' she said, wiping her hands on her apron. 'Eggs? Frank, how about you?'
- •91All right,' she said.
- •It came to an end for them not long afterwards. The following day, Saturday, was hot and muggy, and over the next few days the winds seemed to drop as the temperature increased.
- •Part three February 2009
- •I take the pages out from my skirt and look at them, wondering what comes next.
- •I am not in the mood for her amateur dramatics, her sighing and hair tossing. 'I had my reasons,' I say. 'I told you that. I'm sorry if you feel left out.'
- •I remember how angry she was with him in the kitchen, just before I left last night. Only twenty-four hours ago. 'Why not? He seemed quite nice. As if he knew what he was talking about.'
- •I am completely absorbed by the conversation and her voice in my ear, but the noise, someone calling my name, somewhere nearby, makes me jerk upright and I remember. I didn't close the door.
- •I nod. 'Sorry. I needed to get out. You were still asleep.' Oli touches my hand. 'Look,' he says. 'You can't just run away again. We need to talk about this.'
- •I can't believe she feels guilty about it. 'Louisa, you've been amazing,' I say, and it's true. 'Please! What are you talking about?'
- •I'd forgotten; she told me that awful day at Arthur's, that she wasn't working with him any more. I should have remembered. I just haven't seen them. I blush. 'Of course, sorry.'
- •I unfurl my legs, stiff and aching from the cold and from being in the same position for so long. I roll my head slowly around my neck, and it crunches satisfyingly.
- •I ask just one more question. 'You don't know where she is, though?' 'No,' he says. 'As I said, she'll be back.'
- •The frances seymour foundation
- •I laugh: Ben is really funny. Then there's an awkward silence, in amongst the noise and chatter of the pub. I start picking at a beer mat.
- •I nod emphatically. 'Sure.'
- •I don't know how to respond to such honesty, and the silence is rather uncomfortable. After a few moments, Guy recalls himself.
- •I don't say anything. 'Natasha, you don't know what it's like to lose a sibling,' he says.
- •It is V hot in Dad's study. I remember that even in winter & today in the heat it was baking. Me: No.
- •Part four March 2009
- •I stare at him, unsure of what to say next - so, is it normal between us now? Is that it?
- •I don't expect him to remember. 'Cecily's diary?' he says immediately. 'I've been wondering about that. Did your mum have it?'
- •I touched her shoulder. 'Cathy - it's Oli,' I said. 'Look - over there. He's - I'm sorry. I just, I just want to get out of here.'
- •I want to say, I don't bloody care about bloody Fez! What the hell are you talking about! I want to know about the diary, about you, about what you think of all of this! Jesus! h! Christ!
- •I must be imagining it, but it seems his tone is softer, kinder, for a moment, and the parent he could have been is apparent for a split second.
- •I say softly, 'How could you ever forgive Granny, Arvind? I mean - did you know?' He is silent, for so long that I think perhaps he hasn't heard me.
- •I see Mum taking in her out-of-breath cousin, in her slightly too-sheer white kaftan, red shining face, floral skirt and fluffy blonde hair.
- •I lean forward and give her a big hug. 'Thank you for everything you did today,' I say. 'Well, everything. You should come into town some time. Come and see me.'
- •I was starving, but now I have no appetite at all. 'No, thanks. Can I have a coffee?' I say.
- •If I can do this right now.'
- •I blink; it still sounds so strange. 'You didn't have any idea? I mean - you knew you'd slept with her, Guy, didn't you? Are you trying to say she drugged you?'
- •I smile, because he's totally right, and it's so strange that he knows this. Knows her as well as he does. I prop my elbows up on the table, my chin in my hands, listening intently.
- •I let his fingers rest on mine, feeling his warm dry hand, his flesh, and I stare at him again in
- •I shake my head, overwhelmed all of a sudden. I don't know what to say and I am very tired. 'I'm
- •I nod. 'He's lovely.'
- •I take a deep breath. I'm feeling completely light-headed, with the running, the sunshine, the events of the last hour.
I take a deep breath. I'm feeling completely light-headed, with the running, the sunshine, the events of the last hour.
'Well,' I say. 'Mum said I should go for it. So I really will now. Ben - I was wondering. Do you want to go out for a drink some time?'
His expression freezes. I watch him, my heart thumping. 'Are you serious?' he says. 'Are you really, really asking me out?'
'Yes,' I say. 'Why, don't you—'
He turns his back on me, and my heart sinks, but he's putting his pint on the ground. 'Come here,' he says, drawing me into his arms. He kisses my hair, and then he bends his head and I raise mine to his, and we kiss.
'Yes,' he says, after a moment. 'I'd love to go out for a drink some time. When? Tonight?'
I stroke his cheek, his lovely lips, trace around the edge of his gorgeous, kind eyes. 'I've got to have dinner with my new dad and half-sisters and watch while Jay tries to crack on to them,' I say. 'It's complicated.'
'No,' Ben says, kissing me again. 'It's very simple. So I'll see you tomorrow.'
'Great,' I say, a silly smile on my face. I can't stop smiling. 'And the day after that?'
'And then maybe the day after that.' Ben steps away and looks serious for a moment, then he smiles again. 'I don't believe this, you know. I've been mad about you for such a long time. But I didn't know how to help you. I thought you'd never sort it out, get out of the life you were in.'
I can feel his muscles under his shirt as he moves towards me and hugs me again. I think of
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Cecily's diary, where it is now, lying at the bottom of the sea, or perhaps washed up on another shore. 'Cecily helped me,' I say. 'It's all because of her.'
The door to the pub swings open again and Jay emerges, carrying a tray of drinks. He looks at us without any surprise, holding on to each other as if we've just found one another, and then gives us a small, pleased grin.
Ben and I kiss again, and I look up at the sky, opening out, blue and endless, above the narrow old streets, where Mum is having her smart lunch, where Guy and his daughters are making their way back to the tall white house in the Angel, where we are all, all of us, just trying to be part of one big happy family, whatever on earth that is, trying and often failing, and sometimes succeeding. 'Thank you,' I whisper, my face warmed by the sunshine. 'Thank you.'
Acknowledgements
For jewellery and business advice, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Sarah Lawrence of the fabulous www.girlgang.co.uk : do check it out. For East London ways a big shoutout to Maura Brickell for her local tours and amaze times. Also thanks to the East London ladies, Cat Cobain, Leah Woodburn and Claire Baldwin, and Thomas Wilson and Pamela Casey, as ever, for the same and much more. Big thanks to Rebecca Folland for seeing me through the dark times, Anita Ahuja for help with Indian names, Nicole Vanderbilt and Maria Rodriguez for telling me to write it so very long ago ('Listen, chica . . .'), all at Curtis Brown (especially Liz Iveson and Carol Jackson) and of course Jonathan Lloyd (with special thanks to Marion).
Particular thanks to my parents, Phil and Linda, for their memories, support and advice.
As ever, massive thanks to everyone at HarperCollins, in particular Lynne Drew for her editorial guidance throughout.
A special shoutout to the members of Sleazy Velvet and a big HIYA to my nephew Jake. Finally, my biggest thanks to Chris, for making me bread and for making me so happy.
Bibliography
There were various books I read during the writing of this one which were of great help and interest and for that reason I list them below, though I should of course make it clear that any mistakes are of course my own:
The Denning Report: John Profumo & Christine Keeler (Uncovered Editions, 1999) The Pendulum Years: Britain in the Sixties Bernard Levin (Jonathan Cape, 1970)
That Was Satire That Was: Beyond the Fringe, The Establishment Club, Private Eye and That Was The Week That Was Humphrey Carpenter (Victor Gollancz, 2000)
Bringing the House Down David Profumo (John Murray, 2006) The Duleep Singhs: The Photograph Album of Queen Victoria's Maharajah Peter Bance (Sutton Publishing, 2004)
The Maharajah's Box Christy Campbell (HarperCollins, 2000) Daphne Justine Picardie (Bloomsbury, 2008)
Soho Night & Day Frank Norman & Jeffrey Bernard (Secker &
Warburg, 1966)
Cornwall: A Shell Guide John Betjeman (Faber, 1964)
Liberty & Co. in the Fifties and Sixties Anna Buruma (ACC Editions, 2008)
The 1940s Home Paul Evans (Shire Library, 2009)
The 1950s Home Sophie Leighton (Shire Library, 2009)
By the same author: Going Home A Hopeless Romontic The Love of Her Life
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