‘I know. I’ve already got some ideas to present about that. I want to be involved with it even if I don’t get the job.’

You are going to get the job. You are going to get the job.

‘So what’s the problem?’ Diane gave her a shrewd look. ‘You could do this job standing on your head. You know what your mum would say now if she was here?’

‘No.’ Of course Tara knew. She wanted to give Diane the chance to tell her, though.

‘Confidence is the difference!’ declared Diane, with a flourish. ‘And that’s the truth. She would be so proud of what you’ve been doing. So proud.’

Tara smiled, and for a moment Ruth was there, held between them like a hologram in their memories. Sharp-eyed and red-lipped, quick-witted and kind, feeder of birds and wearer of scarves, Arpège and Clarins night cream. Mum was there every time Tara talked to Diane. She wondered if something similar happened for Diane too.

Mum would have stood behind her while she typed, thought Tara, sipping her tea and suggesting more eloquent ways of saying, I organized the whole damn thing. And then probably leaning over and typing it for her.

‘Speaking of your mum,’ said Diane, ‘I’ve thought about something else I’d like as a keepsake.’

‘You can have anything, you know that.’

‘Ruth had a couple of huge crystal vases,’ Diane went on. ‘She used to put lilies in them – I’d love those for my new flat. I’m going to buy myself lilies every so often, in memory of her.’

‘She’d like that. And I found that necklace,’ Tara added, ‘the rainbow one you were talking about? There are some earrings too. She’d want you to have the set.’

‘Ah, come here, Tara.’ Diane opened her arms and Tara hugged her. For a moment, she felt completely safe again.

Mum would be glad Diane’s keeping an eye on me, thought Tara, her nose buried deep in her pillowy shoulder. Diane cared. She was the woman who’d helped her with the Maths homework that had Mum baffled, the patient driving instructor, the proud seventies feminist influence, the trustworthy voice of common sense.

‘Do you want to pop round one night and pick the vases up?’ Tara asked. ‘They’re quite heavy.’

‘I’m away most of this week on a course,’ said Diane. ‘Maybe next weekend? Would that be all right?’

‘Of course,’ said Tara. ‘Any time. You’re always welcome.’

A few days later, the arrival of the house insurance renewal and the last quarter’s gas bill, both in the same post, sent Tara back to her eBay account, this time with a couple of Sindys and a dramatic semi-precious necklace that she’d never seen her mother wear, and therefore had no qualms about selling.