Cory and the girl are still talking in the hall. He has asked her to stay overnight, and she has hemmed and hawed and said yes, and now they are both wondering what exactly she’s said yes to, whilst pretending that they’re not wondering anything of the sort. Diana listens, grey-faced, struck by the accommodating softness of their voices.

6

Hi Dad, all well but slight change of plan—I’m staying at Byrne Hall!! Long story but I’ll give you a ring tomorrow. Hope the fish pie worked out OK. Lots of love F xxxxx

Mine was a second-floor bedroom at the front of the house, large and sparsely furnished, with two sash windows that overlooked the sea. There was a four-poster bed without any curtains, and a wooden chair where I’d draped my wet things. That was all. It was eerily close to the room I’d created in my imagination, albeit without the dusty shafts of sunlight. At first I sat politely on the edge of the mattress, waiting for Cory to return with sheets and blankets—but he didn’t come.

My stomach rumbled as I paced the room, the floorboards wobbling and yielding against my bare feet. It must have been over an hour since he’d gone. I’d changed into a dry sundress, but I could still smell the rain in my hair and on my arms.

Hi Tom, hope you’re OK. I read Dad’s review before I left and spent most of the morning feeling cross with him and worrying about you.

I clicked my tongue impatiently and pressed delete. I couldn’t think what to say to Tom—how to act and sound—a problem I’d never experienced before. It hurt to think of him being hurt, and why should I put up with that? There ought to be a way of deleting awkward conversations from your mind. There ought to be a way of erasing the memory of particular people, and starting life all over again without them.

If my life were to begin right here, right now, I would make it a thing of such simplicity and promise. Such coherence.

I opened the blinds and wished Cory would come. The ragged edges of the sky had merged darkly with the sea, and it looked later than it was. I sat on the chair for a while, leafing through my notebooks, but my old poems were as exhausted as my thoughts. I wished my breath didn’t smell stale. I got my sponge bag out and smeared a blob of toothpaste round the inside of my mouth, though I wasn’t convinced it would help.

The corridor was entirely dark. I hesitated, but Cory had been gone for ages and there was nothing wrong with going to find him. I wasn’t being nosy. He might need a hand, carrying pillows and things.

I felt my way along the landing in what I thought was the direction of the stairs, but I wasn’t sure. I turned back after a moment, but couldn’t remember which was my room, so I changed my mind again and carried on.