“Don’t, Tom. Let’s not talk about it anymore. Okay?”

“You miss Pascal.” Tom rose. “Mum says that’s half the problem, and I agree. She says you’ll be okay when he gets back. In fact, she’s pretty mad at him for staying away so long. She said the other night, if she had his number, she’d call him, give him a piece of her mind.”

“What?” Gini also rose. She looked at him in consternation. “Tom—she didn’t mean that, did she? She mustn’t do that. She has no right to interfere.”

“It’s okay. She won’t. She just gets these ideas.” He paused, his face changing. “Oh, I see. I understand. You haven’t told him, have you? He doesn’t know you’re ill—”

“I’m not ill. Can we stop this?”

“Because if he knew, Mum’s right, he’d be on the next plane.”

“Tom, will you just stop this?”

“No. I won’t!” Tom, she realized suddenly, was also angry. His face had paled. He shot her a glance fierce with adolescent purity. “You’re lying to Pascal. You shouldn’t lie, not to someone who loves you—”

“I am not lying.” Gini rounded on him furiously. “There may be certain things I prefer not to tell him, but there are reasons for that. He has to work, Tom.”

“It’s still a lie. It’s a lie by omission, that’s all. I don’t lie. I wouldn’t lie to my girlfriend. I haven’t told one lie, not since November ninth last year. Not even a single white lie—”

“So I see. Well, you should learn, Tom. Sometimes the truth causes pain. Sometimes lies can be helpful. Or merciful. When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

The final remark was fatal, she knew instantly. Blood rushed up into his neck and face.

“Couples shouldn’t lie especially,” he burst out. “That really makes me sick. Wives lying to their husbands. Husbands lying to their wives. My dad does that. When he’s here, which is once every century, he just fucking lies all the time.”

Gini could now hear the mounting distress, could feel his sudden rage. The turn in the conversation, and the speed of his unforeseen reaction, took her by surprise.

“Tom, don’t,” she began, holding out her hand. “I’m sorry I said that. And you mustn’t think that way. Lindsay doesn’t lie. Lindsay is one of the most truthful people I know. And your parents aren’t together. They haven’t been for years. You mustn’t make judgments about them like that.”

“Why not? It’s true. I know the facts. They were married. For ten minutes. They had a wedding. They made all those vows. I was born. Then they split. They made a promise, and they never kept it. And you—you’re just as bad…”

“Tom, I don’t think you mean that. You don’t understand.”

“I thought you were different, you and Pascal.” His voice rose: “I should have known—”

He broke off. From below, a door slammed. They both listened to his mother’s footsteps climbing the stairs. Tom’s face worked. Gini stared at him helplessly. She had little experience of children, no knowledge of how you spoke to someone who was half-adult, half-child. She was only twelve years older than he was, not yet thirty, but she watched him now from across a huge divide. Her own inadequacy silenced her. Her hand was still extended toward him, and Tom was still ignoring it. His mother had reached the first landing below. He gave a sudden angry gesture, began to speak, stopped, then stalked from the room and slammed the door.