Lucas dropped the useless umbrella into a bin before entering the station. Less easy to throw away was the shadow of envy, a new and unwelcome distraction as he embarked on a draft of the dreaded letter, his fingers tapping at his laptop while the rain streaked the train window. Esther, for all the concern about Dylan, had looked quite the hostess. Indeed, she looked as if she belonged, even in that grungy little street. The word took a moment to arrive. It seemed to encapsulate everything now slipping from Lucas’s grasp. It occurred to him in the same instant that he had always felt stronger than Esther, more fortunate. For all the difficulties in adjusting to the divorce, deep down, he had, until that moment, believed her loss to be greater than his.

SPA DAY

24

Lily dropped her head back, glad of the mask of her sunglasses, justified by the mid-afternoon September sun now streaming through the glass-walls along the section of the indoor pool. On the other side of the glass, a stone balcony terrace overlooked broad lawns, high hedges, pathways, and ebullient flowerbeds. A worthy setting for a TV drama, Lily had thought, arriving first at the hotel that morning, relieved to discover that the place lived up to its classy online images and somewhat hefty price tag. That she should be finding herself, five hours later, watching the slow crawl of the clock hands on the dial above the pool entrance, had not been her intention. This was her mother’s birthday treat, purchased and arranged with love, she reminded herself; she had no business not enjoying it, let alone struggling, more and more, to conceal the fact.