‘Do you know what she did?’ she said, as if it were a normal question. But then it was hard to speak. ‘I’ve always wondered and never asked. Did you know about her?’

He jolted and flickered, like a machine with a momentary loss of power. She saw the enormity of his denial.

‘She’s suffering,’ he said. ‘She can’t get out of bed one minute. The next she’s talking to thirty friends on the phone.’

‘She doesn’t exist unless she has an audience.’

‘Don’t be a bitch.’

‘Don’t tell me how to talk about her. I can say what I want.’

‘Well, I don’t want to hear it.’

She looked away.

‘I should have been nicer to Alex,’ he said.

‘… Nicer?’ she said.

‘The damage was done.’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘it was.’

‘I shouldn’t have –’ He stopped.

‘Shouldn’t what?’ she said, quietly. ‘Expected him to get over it?’

‘Maybe that’s it,’ said Griff.

Bea nodded, but could not speak, thinking of Alex, unable to get over it. And how alone he must have felt.

‘And I wouldn’t have sent him to France,’ said Griff. ‘We were always running from one crisis to another. It was stupid, looking back.’

‘I think he loved Paligny, in a way.’

They sat in silence.

‘You’ll feel better, when you’re away from your mother,’ he said.

‘Why didn’t you leave her?’

‘Alimony.’

‘That’s not it.’

‘I could never leave her,’ he said. He didn’t say any more.

There was silence.

‘I suppose we should get ready for this circus she’s put together.’

‘I don’t know if I can.’

‘Whatever you think best.’ He finished his drink and got up. ‘All right?’

They reached the door and he opened it for her.

‘You were quite brilliant, with Philip Roche, just now – very brave,’ he said.

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

24

24

Bea came out of the study with Griff and they both crossed the hall to the stairs. Somebody had dimmed the lights, and there were voices coming from below, and more, outside the front door.

‘Quick, up you go,’ said Griff.

On the first floor, he left her, and she went up to her room. She felt dizzy, and had to hold on to the banister. Her empty stomach was acid from the brandy and from feeling too much, and knowing. She saw the diagrams, the shading, marking crushed bone. Her legs gave way. She sat on the stairs and shivered. Nobody could see her. She held herself. She smeared her tears with the heel of her hands, eyes tight shut, and pushing her forehead against her hands.

She could smell Dan’s shaving foam as she went into the bedroom. He had just finished dressing.

‘Is everything OK?’ he said. ‘What did Griff want?’ But he wasn’t looking at her.

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said.