“Whatever.” She bit her nails and avoided my eyes. Maybe she felt exposed for having cut her hair and dressed up for the trip; her black jacket and white top looked brand-new. Maybe it was dawning on her that she was going to be stuck with me for a week in another time zone.

Once we were airborne, I said casually, “Alison, there’s another reason I’m going to London.”

“What.”

“To see Maddy’s father.”

“Oh?”

“She never met him. He left when I was pregnant.” I told her about finding their correspondence. I had been going through the letters again.

“Well, she had a stepfather, didn’t she?”

This was not the point, I felt.

Her next question was: “Why do you want to see him?”

“Curiosity?” It was a ridiculous word.

“I mean, if he didn’t stick around, he’s just some poor guy who plunged when he should have jerked—”

“Alison . . . !”

“Just saying. I have a dad. He doesn’t give two hoots about me.” She undid her seat belt and peeled a stick of gum, offering me one she knew I’d refuse. “I thought Robin was nice.”

“Do you have a boyfriend, Alison?”

“Hundreds.”

“Robin is nice,” I said, pleased for some reason that my partner passed muster.

Alison pulled the flight magazine from the seat pocket and lowered her head. “What does he think about you going to London?”

“Oh, he’s fine with it. Robin is very understanding.”

She looked up. “Doesn’t he mind you’re going to see your ex?”

“No, Alison,” I said patiently. “You’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not going to London to get together with Antonio.”

“Well, what are you going for?”

I thought for a moment. “To punish him.” Saying it felt daring and a little glamorous.

She gave me a long narrow look. “Wow,” she said, flipping her pages rapidly. “You’ve got yourself one tolerant guy.”

I flagged down the flight attendant. Tipping the miniature bottle of wine into the flimsy cup, I had to admit that the sense of purpose I’d been enjoying, landing this study trip and taking Alison with me, was starting to drain away. I put my head back and concentrated on the deep vibration of the plane and the sense that all accountability was, for a short while, suspended. I did not want to land. The further away, the more bearable the world became. Things acquired a pattern from the air that they did not have on the ground. I hardly thought of Antonio. He was in cold suspension somewhere, to be taken out and thawed at the last minute.