‘Oh my God,’ I say, clutching at the duvet. ‘What?’

‘Do you think she’s OK, Leena? Has she seemed a little … off to you lately, or anything? At her age …’

‘What, you think she’s losing her mind?’ I’ve gone cold. My heart is beating in my ears.

‘No, no,’ Ethan says quickly, but I can hear the worry in his voice. ‘I’m sure she was just … having a bad day, or something, and maybe took it out on me.’

‘She said you were cheating on me?’

‘Yeah.’ He gives a breathy laugh. ‘Leena, you know I’d never …’

‘Of course,’ I say, before he can even finish, because I don’t even want him to have to say it.

‘I think … can you come home, Leena?’ He sounds so tired. ‘Today, I mean? I need to see you. This has been … it’s been a crazy morning.’

‘Today? I’m supposed to be staying up until tomorrow lunchtime, to catch up with Grandma …’

‘Right, of course.’

‘Do you need me there?’ I wipe my face; I’ve teared up a bit. This is horrible. Why would – how could … ‘I’ll come back now. If you need me. And I’ll call my grandma and talk to her.’

‘Don’t be upset with her. Maybe it’s about your granddad – I mean, he left her for another woman, right? Maybe she got a bit muddled and it all sort of came out. Maybe this trip to London was a bit much for her. She probably just needs some rest.’

‘I’ve got to call her,’ I say again. ‘I love you, Ethan.’

‘I love you too, Leena. Call me back, OK?’

I fumble with Grandma’s stupid old phone; it seems to take for ever to get it ringing her.

‘Hello?’

‘Grandma, are you all right?’

‘Yes, I’m fine, dear, I’m just on the train up to you now.’ There’s a pause. ‘Are you all right? You sound a little …’

‘Ethan just rang.’

‘Ah. Leena, love, I’m so sorry.’

‘What got into you? Are you OK? You’re OK, aren’t you?’

I can hear the train in the background, the rattle and whoosh as she makes her way here. I lean forward, bringing my knees up to my chest, staring down at the faint rose pattern of the duvet cover. My heart is beating too fast, I can feel it against my thighs as I curl in on myself.

‘What do you mean, what got into me?’ she says.

‘Yelling at Ethan. Accusing him of – of – with Ceci, Grandma, what were you thinking?’

‘Leena, I don’t think Ethan has told you the whole story.’

‘No, you don’t mean that, don’t say that! Why are you saying these things, Grandma?’ I brush at my cheeks; I’m crying in earnest now. ‘I don’t know what to think, I don’t want you to be going crazy and I don’t want you to be in your right mind either.’

‘I’m not losing my mind, Leena – good God, is that what that weasel told you?’

‘Don’t talk about him like that.’

‘I saw him kiss her, Leena.’

I go still.

‘He said things have been different while you’ve been away. He said you’ve been a different person, and—’

‘No. I don’t believe you.’

‘I’m sorry, Leena.’

‘I don’t want you to say sorry because you’re not sorry for the right thing.’

‘Leena! Don’t shout at me, please. Let’s just have a civilised chat about all this over—’

‘I’m going back to London now. Ethan needs me.’

‘Leena. Don’t. Stay in Hamleigh and we can talk.’

‘I need to get back.’ I scrunch my eyes so tightly it hurts. ‘I’m not … I’ve let Ethan down. I’m not being his Leena, up here, in Hamleigh. I don’t know who I’m being. I need to get back to proper me. Work, Ethan, my life in London. I shouldn’t stay up here any longer.’

‘You’re not thinking straight, my love.’

‘No,’ I say, my finger already hovering over the red phone button, ‘I’m not. This – this stupid swap’ – I spit it out – ‘was meant to help, but now it’s messed up the one thing, the one good thing, and …’ I start to sob. ‘I’m done, Grandma. I’m done with all this.’

32

Eileen

I am home, at last, after what seems like an age. Even making a cup of tea feels beyond me. I shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night, I ought to have known better. And now, after the long journey, and the difficult goodbyes, and that awful phone call with Leena … I feel heavy and sluggish, as if I’m moving through treacle.

There’s a new distance between me and Leena. If we’d talked more about our experiences over these last two months, perhaps she would have believed me about Ethan. I thought we’d become closer, living each other’s lives, but it’s been quite the opposite. The house smells of her perfume mixed with the scent of home, and it’s strange.

The doorbell rings. I lever myself up out of my armchair with effort, frustrated at the deep ache in my back and the fuzzy, quiet pain in my limbs.

I’m hoping it’ll be Marian, but it’s Arnold. He looks different, but I can’t tell why – a new flat cap? A new shirt?

‘Are you all right?’ he says, with his usual abruptness. ‘I saw you stumble, outside the house, and I wondered …’

I bristle. ‘I’m quite all right, thank you.’

He bristles too. We stand there, bristling at one another, and it’s just like old times.

Then his shoulders sag. ‘I missed you,’ he says.

‘I beg your pardon?’ I say, blinking, gripping the door frame to keep steady.

He frowns. ‘You’re not all right. You need to sit down. Come on. Let me come in, will you, and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

‘Well,’ I say, still reeling somewhat from Arnold’s last declaration, ‘I suppose you did come to the front door.’

He holds my elbow as we make our way back to the living room rather more slowly than I’d like. It’s comforting to see him, or it was until he said he missed me. That was somewhat discomforting.

‘That confounded cat,’ Arnold says, shooing Dec off the sofa. ‘Here, sit yourself down.’

I just about refrain from reminding him that this is my house, and it ought to be me inviting him to sit. He’s being very neighbourly. In fact he’s being …

‘Is that a new hat?’ I ask abruptly.

‘What?’ His hand goes up self-consciously. ‘Oh. Yes. You like it?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘No need to sound so surprised. I did tell you I’d decided to turn over a new leaf. I got three new hats.’ He’s already off to the kitchen; I hear the sounds of the tap running, the kettle going on. ‘Milk, no sugar?’

‘One sugar,’ I correct him.

‘It’ll ruin your teeth!’ he calls back.

‘Like toffee apples?’