Lynn tried to talk her into an episode of Blockbusters but she wasn’t interested. She asked her if she’d like a nap but Bridie felt too agitated to sleep. She made tea and offered her cake and even her favourite cheese, but she wasn’t hungry. She just wanted to sit in her armchair, rocking to and fro.

Then Bridie remembered something that set her nerves on edge. She’d heard Maisie talk to Valerie about Danny. He’s back. He’s here. They’re with him now. No wonder our beautiful boy ran from us. Bridie turned to the window. The press were clearing up and leaving, and she decided that, before she forgot, it was time she did the same.

Lynn

Lynn took her eye off Bridie for less than three minutes to have a wee. She knew it was less than three minutes because she had timed herself many times. She was never one for dawdling in the bathroom. She described herself as a slash-and-go kinda girl. In, out, wash your hands, dry them on a towel or your own clothes – never those dryers, they’re useless – pat yourself down and the job was done.

Whenever she’d timed herself over the years it had always taken less than three minutes. She had been spurred on to time herself by incidents in which she had been made to wait ages by other inconsiderate, selfish women who seemed to enjoy whiling away their time on public toilets while making other people wait. It was one of the reasons Lynn had stopped travelling, going out to pubs and unfamiliar coffee shops or restaurants. In Jingles she knew where she was. There were two toilets and never enough people in the shop to warrant a big queue.

Lynn’s life had become smaller and smaller over the years. The changes and limitations she had set herself had been implemented so slowly that they were imperceptible to others, but the two days she’d spent in Maisie’s house and away from the comfort of her own surroundings were taking their toll. She had a routine at home, she knew exactly where she was and, more to the point, she knew what to do there. If she had been minding Bridie at hers she would have had more control. She was sure of it. Bridie’d be in bed, asleep, and she could rest her weary heart and bones. She wasn’t sure why or how she exerted more control in her own home but she did. Lynn was queen of her castle and everyone knew it, even poor, demented Bridie. She missed it. She longed for it. It was all she could do to keep from bolting through the door. Tomorrow she’s coming back to mine. I can’t be having this, no matter what the circumstances. Now she walked into the sitting room but Bridie wasn’t there.