“What about your mother?” Alice asked, wanting to change the subject. “You rarely talk about your parents.”

“What of them? I told you they banished me to London after I had too much fun at college. Besides, Oxford is too far to travel on my one day off. And there’s enough excitement to be had in this fine city.” She looked up and smiled, but Alice sensed a sadness behind the mask.

Early in their friendship and after too many drinks, Ursula had confided that she wasn’t prepared to hide who she was from her family or pretend she was ever going to change; consequently, they never got in touch. At the time Alice hadn’t been sure what she’d meant, but with more life experience, and having met all sorts through publishing, she was now fairly certain that Ursula was a lesbian.

“When was the last time you saw them?” Alice asked.

“A few Christmases ago.”

“Why don’t you visit them? It’s nearly that time of year.”

“Oh no, you won’t be here for the Christmas party!” Ursula said, taking her turn to change the topic. “How will you survive the season without listening to George’s speech or watching Emily fawn over Tommy?”

Alice’s heart sank again. It perhaps seemed silly in light of everything else that she faced, but these communal events had taken on more importance in recent years; surviving to another Christmas was a significant achievement for which she was grateful.

“I can live without that, but I will definitely miss our nights out,” she said, thinking about their regular drinks in Soho.

Ursula laid her hand on Alice’s, and Alice gazed down at the pale skin and bright red fingernails. “You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if anything was wrong?”

“I’m fine, really. Everything’s fine.”

“You know I’m here, though, don’t you? You must tell me if you ever need help.”

Alice looked at her and smiled. “I will, and thank you,” she said, patting Ursula’s hand.

“I suppose at least you won’t have to put up with Tommy prattling on,” Ursula said as she pulled her hand away.

“And Emily’s whining,” Alice said, rolling her eyes.

“And what about the interminable boredom of one of Patricia Reece’s lunches! That’s why you’re leaving, isn’t it?” Ursula narrowed her eyes. “It’s just a ploy to get out of seeing her. Really, Alice, that’s a bit extreme, if you don’t mind me saying!”

“Yes, I know, extreme but understandable.”

They grinned. Patricia Reece was one of their most established authors, and her distinctive style of cozy thriller had generated a strong following, but she subjected Ursula and Alice to long formal lunches while avoiding discussion of her edits.

Ursula finished her cigarette and ground the stub into the gravel.