‘Yes, we must be grateful to the weather gods for something. They are forecasting rain for the bank holiday itself.’ I place my napkin on the table noting the splodge of marmalade I must have dropped on it.

‘Always the way, a bit of good followed by bad.’

‘What on earth are you two talking about?’ Allan walks in holding Diana’s hand. ‘The weather?’ He glances between us both, trying to read us. I have seen this before. They know each other so well from their shared history: school, the RAF, university. They even joined the Foreign Office at the same time. But I too have known Tom for years, in fact, all my life. His father was at Cambridge with mine.

Looking across the table, I see the boy I had my first crush on and I value the enduring nature of our friendship. His calm wisdom has helped me through personal pain and through professional trials. He must have suggested the handover here to make it easier for me.

Allan helps Diana to a piece of bacon from the sideboard. She is growing so quickly. In her free hand she holds To Kill a Mockingbird. I frown. I read the book last summer and she must have found my copy. She is too precocious. The book wasn’t written for eight-year-olds, but I don’t want to stop her reading. I can only hope she will not understand all of what she reads.

Tom catches my eye and he’s trying to wordlessly tell me to leave her be. I sigh. He knows me too well. I must return to hiding my thoughts and my expressions better. It is vital and I will need it tonight especially. Standing, my fingers twitch. I’ll go and sort the flower arrangement. It will clear my mind.

34. Lottie

34

Lottie

4 August 2018, 10.00 a.m.

The morning nurse had been and gone. Gran had been restless before Alex had helped Lottie settle her in the garden. Her breathing was distressed again, and Lottie guessed her thoughts were as well. Although her eyes were closed, she kept repeating ‘I had no choice. I had to do it.’ This made absolutely no sense, but Gramps had said she was delirious. Lottie didn’t think so. Yesterday Gran sounded troubled.

Her mother wasn’t around, and Lottie wasn’t sure where she’d gone. Alex stopped mowing the lawn to pull his shirt off. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was doing it deliberately. She looked at Gran whose words sounded like Arabic now, but Lottie couldn’t be sure. But whatever she was saying, she was becoming more agitated.

‘Gran, it’s Lottie and I’m here.’ She stroked Gran’s hand. Her breathing eased but she was still restless.

Gramps appeared. ‘Thought you might need a break.’ His smile was wobbly, and she stood to hug him.