Just remembered something Mum used to say: that when Grunnie discovered she could take out six library books at a time, she was like a woman who’d found religion.

Avril rests the book on the arm of the chair and gets a still-damp cloth from Laura’s washbag.

Have you finished? Laura asks her, nodding at the book.

Mmm.

Laura waits, but Avril’s scrubbing at something unseen on her hands.

Don’t feel obliged to read the other books, she says gently. There’s a lot of … sadness.

Avril looks up in consternation. No! I mean, please, I want to … I really do. I feel like, I don’t know, like she’s talking to me, too.

Of course you can read them, if you want to. It’s just, with everything else——

She had guts, Meggie. Her sister, too. Do you remember her?

Kitta? I remember Grunnie used to talk about her a lot, but I never knew before now what happened to her. Laura’s voice changes. She died young.

A nurse looks in, and they are on their feet.

They’re going to do some more tests, Helena announces.

Is anything wrong?

Relax, Avril, it’s a good thing. Really. But they’ve asked me to suggest you two go home for a while.

Mute, stubborn, both of them.

Helena smiles, resigned. Yes, I told them it’d be a hard sell. At least go out for a walk, stretch your legs, get something to eat? It’s a beautiful day out there, you know. She half shrugs and leaves.

Avril slumps against the chair. People keep telling me it’s a good thing. What does that mean, Laura? I don’t even know what ‘good’ would be for Coop.

All Laura can do is hold her.

18

Avril

The little park opposite the hospital is still winter-green. Seagulls circle gracefully from the spire of the church, then land on the grass, strutting about like the litter police.

The sky is oceanic above them, white-capped waves of aquamarine. Avril lies on her back, head cushioned on Laura’s rolled-up scarf, watching the sea in the sky.

Pretty cagey, isn’t she?

Mmm?

She rolls onto her elbow, idly crumbling pieces of muffin on the grass. Meggie. There’s a lot she’s not saying. Like this thing about the boy, Brukie’s Sandy. She mentions him a lot. Have you found out what happened yet?

Laura shakes her head. No. She keeps promising to tell but I’m not sure she’s going to. I was just about to start the last book. I’ll read it tonight.

Avril sits up, rasping her hands on the thighs of her jeans. She nods at the books in Laura’s bag. It’s … I don’t know. Like she’s standing next to you when you read. She’s written not just for you but TO you. Like a conversation.