I went to church with them, taking Patricia’s arm as we navigated the cracking, uneven path. The congregation was small and elderly, the organist tone-deaf, the singing thin. Richard mounted the pulpit and read from the Gospel of Matthew about Jesus turning over the tables of the money changers in the temple. Later, he asked us to shake our neighbor’s hand. When it was over, I went and talked to Em and to my mother. Marcus didn’t call, and I gave up expecting him to, but in the town, I turned every corner with the thought that he’d be there.

I went to the house. The council had sold them off and the whole row had been done up; new windows and doors, an unblemished cream paint job from end to end. I lingered outside Mrs. East’s with my hands upon the wall and then walked down to where I had once lived with my mother, with Joe. A shiny bottle-green Mini was parked outside. Beside the front door were two sets of muddy wellies, one adult-sized and green, the other small and pink. The curtains were pulled back in the front room and I took a few steps forward to peer in. As I did so, the door opened and a woman came out, and then a little girl.

She was more or less my age, with shoulder-length brown hair and a jumper all the colors of the rainbow. The girl was about four. Upon seeing me, she took a step back behind her mother’s legs. I wavered.

“Can I help you?” The woman’s smile was friendly, open.

“It’s just … I used to live here.”

“Oh! Are you Mrs. Jevons? I don’t think we ever met, but the estate agent—”

“No, I left twenty years ago. I grew up here.” The door was still open and I could see the carpets had been taken up and the floorboards polished. A print of a Matisse hung at the end of the hall. Beneath it was a walnut chest of drawers with a turquoise ceramic pot on it. A pause. I tore my eyes away.

“Listen … Would you like to come in and have a quick look?”

I thanked her, but said I had to be on my way.

“We came down from London. Couldn’t get a studio there with what we had. We wanted Ella to have her own room. It’s been an adjustment, but we love it now. And the house, it’s a happy place. We’ve always felt, well, that people were happy here.”

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.