The fact that she also enjoyed it seems immaterial. I had caught a glimpse of her face and remembered that she had been a dancer and had capered on the stage to the gaze of strangers. She had hated it too. She had given up a lot for my sake—dignity, and the goodwill of my mother, although I don’t suppose that bothered her too greatly. Robert would forgive her. He always had. It was a strange martyrdom. She had offered not so much a sacrifice as a gift. What she had given was of value only to me, and she had not in reality harmed or impoverished herself beyond redemption. I have long since ceased attempting to follow the processes by which God works out his purpose, but I know he sent me Lili. For who but he—or she—would have conceived of a wedding present so original as the scene in the summerhouse?’

I remembered one day what she had been saying all those years ago, seated on the hummock of harsh grass. She had been speaking of love and I hadn’t understood her, and she had waved her cigarette, and Robert had asked her if she would rather live for the rest of her life without smoking or without love, and she had replied, ‘What do you think?’

My only regret is that no one answered her, and now I shall never know.

THE SKELETON IN THE CUPBOARD

I hadn’t given her a thought for years. I had had no reason to think about her—not really. I was old Mrs Monro and my life was over.

Monica called one morning to ask if I wanted anyone else put on the guest list and said, as though it didn’t matter, that she was coming to stay for the wedding. She said ‘Lili’s coming’, and I put my cup down very carefully in its saucer. It was winter and I was cold. I could see my fingers trembling and put my hands in the pockets of my cardigan. Winter gets worse as you get older.

‘Have some more coffee, Monica,’ I said. ‘Are they back then?’ I remembered the relief when they had left. It was years before, but I still remembered the relief.

She said, ‘Robert has an exhibition arranged. They’ll be staying for a few weeks.’

‘A few weeks,’ I said. ‘How nice.’ I poured her another cup of coffee and put my hands back in my pockets.