‘She’s very proud, you know. And I’ve always been her baby brother – the one she protects, not the one she turns to for help.’

Juliet looked up at Jem, standing there so tall and gangly and clumsy and kind, and gave him a tender smile. He had little wrinkles round his eyes now, clearer after months in the south. Ever since she’d met him, he’d talked to her about Irene: Irene’s hair, reddish like his own; Irene’s job; Irene’s children; Irene’s charming husband who didn’t adore her enough; Irene’s opinions about refugees and global warming and the teaching profession and the best way to cook risotto … She’d been almost resentful, seeing her as a kind of rival to Jem’s affections: the big sister who’d been his protective fantasy through childhood and who’d recognized the real him when no one else seemed to. Yet when they did finally meet, over a curry in an Indian restaurant – with Adrian ringing at the last minute to say he couldn’t make it, and Jem talking too much and ordering a ridiculous number of dishes to cover his own awkwardness and his urgent desire that the two women should get on – her anxiety had fallen away. Irene had been warm, a bit shy, eager to like Juliet, comradely. Not formidable and glamorous and cool, the way Juliet had imagined and feared her, but little, quick, self-deprecating, nearly beautiful and nearly plain and a bit sad under the surface.

‘She should turn to you for help,’ Juliet said now. ‘I would. I do.’

‘You always must.’

They looked at each other for a few moments, then Juliet took Jem’s hand, lifting it against her cheek.

‘I knew as soon as I set eyes on you that you were for me,’ she said. And then, before she even knew she was thinking it, added, ‘We should have children ourselves soon.’

Her face flushed bright red as she said the words and she dropped her eyes.

‘Juliet! I thought you said we should wait until …’

‘I know. I just suddenly thought it would be stupid to wait. There’s never a right time, is there? Now’s the only right time.’

‘Do you mean it? Really mean it?’

‘I think I must. Look at you, I do believe you’re crying.’

‘I am crying. I only cry when I’m happy. Is it wrong to feel so happy when someone you love is so sad?’

‘Not wrong. Strange though. Anyway, tell her she’s got to come over. Her and the girls. Leave everything for a bit.’

‘I’ve already told her.’

‘Do the kids know yet?’

‘I don’t know. She didn’t say.’

Twelve

‘You know that Daddy loves you very much?’