night, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Of course I was. When did I ever do anything? Tuesday, I remembered with a jolt. I was going out on Tuesday too, on my date with Owen. Where might that lead? I brushed my hair off my face, conscious that Leo and Ethan were watching me. A memory raced into my head, only a snatch but so clear that I shivered, feeling again the cold night air, the soft rain tickling my cheeks, the heat of a bonfire on my skin, and the gentle touch of a hand brushing aside my hair …
‘Friday,’ I repeated, fixing my gaze on Leo. ‘That would be lovely.’
‘Come on, Daisy, you read the glossy magazines. What’s the dress code for a dinner party with your husband and his gay lover?’
‘It’s never come up in a magazine I’ve read.’ Daisy stared into my wardrobe. She’d been doing this for the last five minutes, as if by the power of her stare she could replace all the clothes with new ones. ‘When did you last buy anything new?’
‘1998.’ For a moment, I thought she believed me. Were my clothes that bad? ‘Stop pulling that face. You’re acting scarily like my mother.’
‘Not even Irene would wear this.’ Daisy pulled out a paisley print dress, which I had probably last worn in the difficult months after Ava’s birth, when I still thought the tummy and droopy breasts were temporary afflictions. ‘Do you have a wardrobe full of fashionable clothes in another room?’
‘What about the grey?’ I pulled out the usual jersey dress. Daisy wrinkled her nose.
‘To say it’s on its last legs would be a compliment.’ She rifled through the rail, which took about five seconds. ‘You do realise, don’t you, that one of the advantages of divorce is that you have an extra half of a wardrobe to fill with new clothes?’
‘I bought a new dress for Christmas. But Clark has already seen that. I don’t want him to think I only have one decent thing. And why do I need new clothes? I never go anywhere.’
‘This is your second night out in a week.’ Daisy settled down on the bed, making herself comfortable in a way that didn’t bode well. Sure enough, she began an interrogation. ‘Talking of nights out, are you going to tell me how it went with Owen on Tuesday?’
‘It was fine. Nice.’ Terrifying, if she wanted the entire truth.
‘What did you do?’
‘We went to the Inn at Whitewell and had a couple of drinks.’
‘That was a long way to go. Good choice though. Very romantic.’
‘Very private. He wanted to avoid any students or parents.’ Or any husbands or brothers-in-law.
‘And you had fun? It was a success?’
‘I suppose so.’
I removed my jeans and T-shirt, and took the grey dress off the hanger, ready to put it on. Daisy looked me up and down, and went over to the chest of drawers.
‘Have you no decent lingerie?’ she asked, rooting around my underwear. ‘Leo must have bought you some for Christmas or birthday presents.’
‘No. He generally bought books.’
Daisy held up a saggy bra and granny knickers.
‘Fond of grey, aren’t you? Please don’t tell me you still wear these monstrosities. Although those things you have on now aren’t much better. See how different it could look …’
She heaved up my bra straps, fighting gravity. As she did, the bedroom door opened and Jonas walked in.
‘Mum …’ He stared at the sight in front of him – and what a sight it must have been for an innocent young boy. ‘Not you as well,’ he muttered and backed out. Daisy laughed.
‘You need a lock on that door. What if you’d been in here with Owen?’
‘We’ve only had one drink!’ I pulled on the grey dress, ignoring Daisy’s disapproving tut.
‘Two drinks,’ she corrected. ‘And surely a kiss?’
‘No! Well,’ I conceded, ‘a kiss on the cheek.’ It wasn’t where Owen had aimed for, at the end of the evening, but I had chickened out and turned my head at the last moment.
‘Oh, Mary, you’re hopeless. You’ve devoted so much time to studying Alice Hornby that you’re acting like a Victorian virgin. You’re allowed to have sex with a man who isn’t your husband.’
‘Being allowed to do something doesn’t mean I want to. Anyway,’ I continued, turning away from Daisy’s sympathetic expression, ‘whether Alice Hornby died a virgin is one of her greatest mysteries. There’s a letter …’
‘Spare me the lecture. You didn’t go on about her to Owen, did you? You’ve spent so long in a bubble with Leo that you’ve forgotten not everyone is nuts about the Hornby woman.’
‘I can’t not mention her. It’s my job.’ I opened my jewellery box, took out the green pendant necklace that Leo had given me for Christmas, and fastened it round my neck.
‘Colour! At last!’ Daisy said, nodding in approval. She probably wouldn’t have approved if she had known where it came from, or that I was wearing it as a gesture of loyalty to Leo. ‘We’re going shopping before your next date. There will be another, won’t there? You haven’t scared him off with your prudery?’
‘As you’ve seen, removing my clothes would have scared him off far more effectively than keeping them on. We’re meeting to walk the dogs tomorrow, if the weather’s fine.’ I spritzed perfume, brushed my hair and dug out my smart pair of heels. ‘I can’t put it off any longer. Will I do?’
‘Even in that dress, you look gorgeous.’ Daisy hugged me. ‘Remember – you’re a single woman, not an abandoned wife. Go dazzle.’
Leo met me at his new front door, looking smart in chinos that I had bought him and a shirt that I hadn’t. We kissed cheeks politely – such a versatile gesture, capable of bookending the start and end of a relationship. His cheek was soft under my lips, so soft that I suspected it must be the effect of moisturiser. I had to hand it to Clark – he had smartened Leo up in a way that I had never managed.
‘This is nice,’ I said brightly, following Leo into a large space that served as living and dining room. Huge floor-to-ceiling doors opened onto a balcony overlooking the Bridgewater Canal. Inside, the room was pale, shiny, and minimal, all blond wood, white furniture, chrome, and glass. I couldn’t imagine Jonas and Ava staying here. Did they have to shower and put on one of those boiler suits that TV detectives wear, so they didn’t contaminate the place? I cringed at what Clark must have thought of our house at Christmas; but still, I wouldn’t swap my cosy chaos for this place. Six months ago I would never have dreamt that Leo would either.
Clark came in from the balcony, where he had been talking to two men and a woman I didn’t recognise.
‘Hello, Mary. We’re glad you could come.’ Only I seemed to feel any awkwardness over that ‘we’. ‘Come and meet the others while Leo gets you a drink.’
He led me out to the balcony and introduced his colleague, Pete, and wife Liz, and Andrew, an old friend from university. A few minutes later the final guests arrived, another married couple who had once been guests at my house, and who clearly had no idea what to make of me now being a guest like them.
As Leo and Clark had work connections with the two couples, it was inevitable that I would fall into conversation with Andrew.
‘Incredible view, isn’t it?’ he said, leaning against the balcony rail. I nodded, while making a mental note to tell Jonas and Ava never to do that. In fact, perhaps I should sweep