Bonfires flare in the background; Eric made so many, there was a bonfire every Sunday to burn dead stuff from the garden; the children loved them, begged him for them, danced round them. There’s one long shot of them running into the woods, disappearing among the trees, bleached out by the light like little ghosts. Eve was filming from the veranda by the house; so far away that you can’t really see what they are doing, but then, none of us saw what was happening at the time. We weren’t looking. It seems incredible now, when you think about it, that we were all too busy to see what was right in front of our eyes.

4. July

Eve

The holidays arrive with a bang. Ash’s birthday party. Everyone’s coming: all the kids plus Melly, Paul and Martin. Grace hopes to join them after work. That’s twelve, counting Eve’s own family.

The kitchen is messy, messier than usual. The girls hang around Eve as she rolls dough, smooths icing and pipes cream. Scraps of pastry litter the table, lemon halves lie on the floor and eggshells in the sink. Eve’s face is wet with sweat. The kitchen is a furnace. At lunchtime the children are hungry. Poppy asks for food, pushing against her mother impatiently. She gives up after a while, grabs an apple from the fruit bowl and goes outside. Sorrel follows. Eve leans her elbows on the windowsill to watch, blowing the hair from her eyes, her hands sticky with icing. The girls trail after Eric who is sawing wood and hammering lengths together to make the roof of a playhouse. They clamber over the planks, used to his silences; his quiet focus settles them down. Sorrel squats near him, patting sawdust into cakes on a length of wood. Poppy sits in the shade eating her apple and watching closely. The little house is taking shape quickly as if by magic; Ash’s birthday present, due to be unveiled at the party later. The slide and swing have arrived and Igor is assembling them, grunting with effort.