“Sorry,” she said. “I was thinking about something.”

“I guess so.” Tom looked at her in concern. “Did something happen?”

“Sort of,” she said. She checked her mind, hoping for a moment that this might be simply a nightmare; but, no, it was not a dream. “Yes, I suppose it did.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No!” The force with which her response shot out startled even her.

He smiled. “I’ll take that as a negative,” he said. “But you look like you could use some food. Want to come to Carroll’s?”

They walked together to the café in a silence that was surprisingly companionable.

“How’s the job hunt going?” he said, when they were seated over their meal. “Did you find anything with animals yet?”

“I’m on various waiting lists,” she said. “But it seems to be quite a popular field. Right now, I’m working at the Crown & Sceptre. It’s a bit depressing there, but it was all I could find.”

“I kind of like the Crown & Sceptre,” he said. “They do a good cauliflower cheese.”

“They do?” Lulu thought of the watery white florets encased in vivid orange sauce.

“Well.” He seemed to consider it. “When I say it’s good, I probably mean it’s better than the way my aunt Pam in Wisconsin used to fix it, which is the only way I’ve had it before. But to tell you the truth, most things I eat as an adult are better than the way my aunt Pam in Wisconsin used to fix them. The real reason I like the place is because it’s quiet in the afternoons and I can read there.”

It was quiet all right, thought Lulu.

“The reason it’s quiet,” she told him, “is that not many people go there because it’s not very nice.”

“Huh.” He raised an interested eyebrow; this apparently was an element of the pub that had not previously struck him. But he himself had commented that he was not an observant man. He had also commented that it was a characteristic that had driven his ex-wife crazy. She frowned at him, thoughtfully.

“You’re divorced, aren’t you?” she said.

“Five years ago,” he nodded. “Back in California.”

Divorce did happen, she thought, feeling a little sick. It was a common consequence of infidelity.

“Why?” she asked.

“Wow.” He had taken a sip of tea, and choked a little. “You get straight to the point, don’t you?”

“Sorry, was that rude?” Lulu and her sisters had grown up watching Fee ask direct questions of people she knew and people she did not, and not thought twice about it. Now that Lulu was older, she was becoming aware that this was an American habit rather than a British. She bit her lip; Jane, she would lay bets, did not ask questions.

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “It’s good, in fact, makes me feel like I’m back home. English people are so discreet I sometimes miss a bit of good American curiosity.”