‘Yes, I’ve just moved into a shared house. I used to be a teacher actually – French and German.’

‘Is that right? I’ve been thinking about providing language classes. Interested?’

‘Sorry. I’ve got no plans to teach again. I’m editing.’

‘Editing?’ Crystal waves the manuscript at her. ‘Perfect.’

Marina laughs. Crystal reminds her of Ruth. They’re both persistent. Ruth used to convince her to do things – swimming in the sea, making a cake, abseiling – from the simple to the daring, persuading by stealth, dropping advice, building Marina’s confidence.

She agrees to at least consider Crystal’s teaching proposition. Then, on the way out, she glances at the wall display. Next to the black and white photos, there’s a montage of postcards arranged in a glass frame. The photos show south London through the decades. There’s a picture of Streatham High Road complete with buses and shops and an advert for John Bull. And another with a group of young people in suits and short skirts dancing in a club.

An old-fashioned sign hangs alongside. Marina reads:

THOMAS LITTLETON BOOKSELLER

BOOKS BOUGHT AND SOLD

RARE AND SECOND HAND

Her stomach flips. Her instincts were right. The tenant from Flat 4 once owned this shop. She glances at Crystal who is absorbed in the manuscript, her lips moving as she reads. Marina hesitates before she calls across. ‘How long have you owned the shop?’

Crystal frowns, thinking. ‘Let’s see, we bought it in the early seventies – that’s my ex-husband and me. Cheap as chips, which was great for us, not so much for the owner.’ She nods across at the sign.

‘What happened to him?’

‘He died.’ She picks up a paperweight and balances it on the palm of her hand. ‘We got everything – every book, pen and trinket. Some things we hung onto, like those photos, for authenticity, you know, a homage to the past, but generally it took a lot of work to get rid of it all.’

‘Why did that happen?’

‘It was a complicated situation. No one to inherit or something.’ She puts her head on one side. ‘Although there was a sister, I recall. I think she kept the shop shut up for several years. I can’t remember exactly what happened. Something to do with the will. My ex dealt with that side of things. I wasn’t financially adept, not then. I had to learn after he ran off with our savings, though. So many years ago. God, time goes quickly.’

Marina agrees. The present becomes the past in a moment.

13

Eva

January 1992

Eva remembers many things about her childhood.

She remembers birthdays – her mother icing a cake, wrapping her presents in gold paper, which she reused every year. They went to the pictures, or to the ice rink, or for a picnic on the common. They sat on a blanket and ate sandwiches and Eva would listen to her mother talk.