— I just wanted to tell you some things, so that you knew. Like that I mostly don’t know where Alex is. I spend a lot of time waiting for him, afraid he isn’t coming back. In case that’s gratifying for you. We aren’t like a couple, it isn’t that sort of thing.

— I’m sure you’ll grow into it.

— That jacket suits you, by the way. I’m so glad you’re wearing it. And I like your hair longer, it’s softer.

Glancing down, Christine pretended to be surprised. — Oh, is this yours?

— I haven’t really taken Alex from you, Chris. People aren’t available, are they, to be taken out and given back like a library book, date-stamped? He hasn’t finished with you, nor you with him, not really, whatever you think. And do you and I have to be enemies? We aren’t conventional, are we?

— It turns out I’m quite conventional after all.

— I never complained, did I, when you were so close to Zach for all those years? When he called in so often to see you in the afternoons.

Christine looked at her searchingly, quickly. — You didn’t mind it, though!

— Didn’t I mind it? Perhaps sometimes I did. When I went looking for him in the gallery and Hannah said he wasn’t there, he was with you, again.

— You never said you minded! You should have said. And anyway, we were all happy then, Christine insisted. — It wasn’t anything like this. Everything was balanced differently, there were the four of us. And Zach and I were just talking, those afternoons in the studio. Or he would sit there watching while I worked, that’s all: it was about art, that’s what we cared about, more than anything. We never hurt anybody, or upset them. It’s not the same as breaking the pattern, breaking everything up.

— Though for that matter I loved Alex first, don’t forget that. You took him from me, in a way. You’ve had his life.

— But why do you cling to that old story, Lydia – of things we felt and fantasised when we were more or less children? We’re grown-up now, we’re growing old! We have children of our own and they’re grown-up too. You’re such a strange person. Why aren’t you like normal people? You should be keeping out of my way, if you were normal.

She saw that Lydia was hurt then: she turned her face away. — Grace incidentally has announced she’s giving up working in stone and wants to paint instead. Because of Zachary, to mark the whole change in her life. I don’t know how she is, really. I don’t think she’s all right. I’m afraid for her.