Olivia twisted round on the piano stool. ‘I knew you were there. I felt you.’

‘That was so good,’ Anna said, wiping her eyes.

‘You’re crying, ’ Olivia said softly. ‘I used to be able to make Katie cry with my music too.’

‘Oh, Olivia,’ Anna cried, letting the tears run down her face. ‘Why did it have to happen – you and her?’

Olivia was beside her in a second, gentle, sweet-smelling, her arms round Anna, stroking her cropped hair. The cake box slid to the floor. ‘My darling Anna, my dearest.’ And Anna held her too, feeling the small lightness of her, and thought she would choke with sadness.

‘I’ve wanted to hold you for so long,’ Olivia said. ‘When you were a little baby I cuddled you so much. I felt as if you were mine. I knew one day you’d come to be with me whether Kate wanted you to or not.’

Anna pulled away and looked up into her face. Both their cheeks were streaked with tears. ‘But I wasn’t yours. And you tried to drown me.’ She found her voice growing shrill. ‘Why did you do that to me?’

Olivia withdrew her hands, her face stony. ‘She told you.’

Anna sat in silence, waiting.

‘I was – not well. You know that, don’t you? She told you that? I was destructive. It wasn’t me.’ She looked into Anna’s eyes. ‘Can you forgive me?’

‘I don’t know.’ She thought for a moment. ‘For myself, I suppose, yes. But it’s my mother you really needed to ask that.’

Olivia watched her face, not saying anything.

‘There are other things I want to know.’

‘I know.’ Olivia roused herself suddenly and stood up, becoming almost cheerful again. ‘Look. We’ll have a long talk. Let’s go and make tea first.’

Anna stood up, offering her the box of éclairs. ‘Sorry – they’re probably a mess by now.’

‘Oh, how sweet! What a treat,’ Olivia cried.

They went into the kitchen with its huge grey stove and tiled floor. A wooden drying rack hung from the ceiling holding a row of blue and white tea-towels.

Olivia filled the kettle and then turned, taking Anna in affectionately with her eyes. ‘You are so like Douglas – his eyes and that beautiful hair. How is he?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Anna said, startled. ‘I’ve never met him.’

Olivia stood up straight, disbelieving. ‘What?’

‘He left her, not long after you did. Or at least, he went to work in London and she didn’t go with him. He cut off completely, never a word. That was how he was, she said. Didn’t you know?’

‘No.’ Olivia seemed quite stunned. ‘I had no idea. We had no acquaintances in common even, really. And anyway, I was in London. I only ever saw her that once . . .’

‘After you’d had Krishna?’

Olivia nodded. ‘She wouldn’t speak to me. The look in her eyes . . . And we both brought up our children alone. We should have been able to help each other.’ She hesitated, gathering her resolve. ‘Anna, I need . . . Will she see me, d’you think?’