A dark-skinned young woman in ankle-length black is washing the floor and humming a tune under her breath; her symmetrical features are framed by a hijab. The kitten, Venus, jumps out of the way, toying with the mop and shaking her white paws. Lina comes from Syria; she worked for colleagues of Paul before, other architects who moved to America. Her references were excellent. When Melly’s interior design business took off, they needed someone to look after the house and cook. Lina sleeps in their converted loft; it’s hard to remember how they managed without her. She’s probably in her early twenties, though it’s impossible to tell exactly with the clothes and the make-up she always wears. Paul pays her in cash, calling her up to his office every Saturday. She seems content. Lina looks up and gives a solemn wave; Melissa smiles, warmed. She feels close to her silent little maid, closer than to her daughter sometimes. They share more time together; she tells Lina her thoughts. Last week she found her working late, cleaning cupboards. Paul was away. She had sat at the table with a glass of wine, allowing herself to chatter. Lina listened and for a brief moment rested her hand on Melissa’s shoulder. She’s not quite sure how much Lina understands; she hardly talks but she listens closely, like an ally. Her presence feels gentle, healing even, though Paul would laugh at the notion.

‘It looks perfect.’ She glances around the shining kitchen. ‘Thank you, sweetie; did you remember the flowers?’

Lina nods. She squeezes out the mop and puts the bucket in the pantry; she remembers everything. The white lilies, the special scentless kind Paul prefers, will be delivered later.

‘Dinner?’

Lina nods again. The daube of beef, his favourite, will be ready in the fridge, beautifully cooked.

‘You’re an angel. I literally cannot remember how we coped before you came.’ She wants to hug Lina but doesn’t quite dare.

A red stain creeps into Lina’s cheeks. She sets out cereal and bowls on the island, adds cutlery, and a little vase of flowers.

‘Take the day off,’ Melissa says impulsively. ‘Izzy will be out and I intend to work. Everything’s ready for Paul. You deserve a break.’

Lina has a boyfriend, a thick-set, bearded man who looks older than her, a little surly. He waits outside the house in the evenings; perhaps they could spend the day together. Lina bows her head in acknowledgement. Melissa returns to the sitting room; Izzy is still glued to her laptop. ‘Here’s Venus come to see you. I’m going to catch up on work till it’s time to go.’ She tumbles the kitten on to her daughter’s lap; Izzy’s hand closes round the soft little ears.

Grace

‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’