‘Nineteen,’ she said, ‘well, nearly. It’s my birthday in February.’

  ‘Young,’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘God. I can’t imagine I was ever that young.’

  ‘Well, surely you’re not that much older than me?’

  ‘I’m thirty-one,’ she said, bracing herself for the customary blast of disbelief.

  ‘No!’ said Daisy, right on cue. ‘God. I thought you were much younger than that.’

  ‘Oh, yes. How old did you think I was?’

  ‘God, I don’t know, about twenty-three.’

  Ruby smiled. ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘you’re not the first person to think that.’

  The door opened then and Con appeared. He looked at Daisy, then at Ruby. A coldness passed across his face. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I didn’t realize you were down here.’

  ‘Just came down for a glass of water.’ She waved it at him.

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Me and Daisy have been chatting.’

  ‘Right,’ he said again.

  ‘I hear your cooking skills are quite impressive?’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, yeah. Toby helped. But it was pretty good.’

  ‘Wow. You’ll have to cook something for me some time. See if I’m as kind about your efforts in the kitchen as Daisy here.’

  ‘Yeah. Right. Anyway, we’re going back now.’ He put a hand gently around Daisy’s waist to guide her towards him. Ruby felt something bitter and acidic rise up in the back of her throat.

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ said Daisy.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ruby, ‘likewise.’

  The door began to close behind them. ‘Have fun,’ she called after them. But they didn’t hear. Ruby listened at the door for a moment, to see if they were talking about her, but the conversation passed seamlessly back to themselves, as if the encounter with Ruby had never happened. She saw Con’s hand on Daisy’s back like an imprint left on her retina by a flash of light. She heard them laughing together – Con’s rough estuary snigger; Daisy’s crystalline Chelsea chime. She caught sight of her reflection in the blackened glass of the kitchen window and stopped for a moment. Who was she? What was happening to her? She had now been rejected twice in a fortnight, in both instances for someone diametrically different to her. It wasn’t as if she wanted commitment; it wasn’t as if she was making any demands beyond sex and a bit of a laugh. What was wrong with men today? What did they want with flat-chested asthmatic girls and forty-two-year-old divorcées with stretch marks?

  Ruby poured herself a large glass of Toby’s vodka and took it to her bedroom, ‘accidentally’ spilling some on Daisy’s crocheted shawl on the way.

  34

  Con stared at the top of Daisy’s head. She had a double crown, her fine blonde hair spiralling out of two separate whorls, like horns. A spray of hair had fallen from her hairline across her cheek. He’d been resisting the temptation to move it for the past ten minutes, concerned that he might awaken her. She started to stir and Con quickly rearranged himself, to look a little less like he’d been staring at her while she slept.

  She looked around the room as her eyes opened. Con could see her checking out her surroundings, reminding herself where she was.

  ‘Morning,’ he said.

  She turned and smiled. ‘Morning.’ She pushed herself up onto her elbow and looked at him. ‘God, you’re handsome in the mornings,’ she said.

  He blushed. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘You look pretty good yourself.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ she said, pulling her hair away from her face. ‘Mornings are not my best time of day. What time is it, anyway?’

  He glanced at his radio alarm. ‘Nine-fifteen.’

  ‘Oh, God, really?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Oh, shit. I’d better get going.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. Chest stuff.’ She tapped her collarbone and began to cough. ‘Sorry,’ she said, turning away from him. ‘Mornings are worst. Mimi usually gets to work on me first thing. In fact, I’d better call her, let her know I’m on my way back.’ She pulled her handbag towards her, her thin back arching away from him as she lent across the floor, knuckles of bone protruding through her milky skin, a triangle of white down covering the base of her spine. She coughed again as she pulled her mobile from her bag. Her breathing was becoming laboured and heavy.

  She spoke to her sister. Con could hear the concern in Mimi’s voice from the other end of the line. It was clear that Daisy didn’t do this sort of thing very often. ‘It’s not that late!’ protested Daisy. ‘Yes. I’m leaving now. I don’t know. The Tube. OK, then, a cab. No, he hasn’t got a car. I don’t know, OK. Look, Meems, I’m really sorry, OK. I didn’t realize you were going out today. I’ll be there as soon as possible. I’ll call you when I’m in a cab.’ She switched off her phone and smiled apologetically. ‘Not impressed,’ she said.

  ‘I could tell.’

  ‘I don’t blame her. It’s a real bind for her, you know, having to do my physio every morning. It’s not fun and it means she can’t go away without arranging a nurse for me or do anything, you know, spontaneous. She always has to think about me.’

  ‘The physio,’ he said, ‘what your sister does for you? Is it difficult? I mean, could someone else do it for you?’

  She shrugged. ‘I suppose so. It’s just lots of hitting me on the back, hitting me on the chest, moving me round in different positions.’

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘As long as it takes to loosen me up.’

  ‘Could I do it for you?’

  Daisy turned and gazed at him.

  ‘That way you wouldn’t have to rush off. That way you could stay. If you wanted.’ He gulped.

  She smiled and brought the crown of his head to her lips. She kissed his head deeply. Con could hear the machinations of her broken lungs through her ribcage. ‘You are so lovely, Connor McNulty. You are so good. I knew you were, the first time I saw you. But it’s not that simple. You’d have to be trained. Mimi would have to show you what to do. And besides,’ she said, ‘it’sa bit like going to the loo with the door open, isn’t it? Not very romantic.’

  Con smiled and kissed her on the mouth. And then he picked up his own mobile phone and switched it on.

  ‘I’ll call you a cab,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Daisy. ‘Thank you.’

  35

  Leah pulled open the Yellow Pages and flicked through it until she found the number for the Central School of Speech and Drama. She dialled the number and spoke to three different people before she was finally put through to someone who was able to help her.

  ‘I’m looking for information,’ she said, ‘about an ex-alumni. Her name is Joanne Fish.’

  ‘What exactly did you want to know?’

  ‘Well, I’m a casting assistant and we’re thinking of calling her in for an audition, but we wanted a bit of background on her first. So, you know, anything really, anything you’re allowed to tell me.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘that would really depend on how much information she let us have, whether she kept in touch. Hold on and I’ll see if I can find her file.’

  Leah stared through the window while she waited, feeling her heart racing under her ribcage with the excitement of lying.

  ‘Right,’ said the woman on the other end of the line, ‘I’ve got her file. Let’s have a look. Aah, yes, well, she graduated in 1993.’

  ‘What about marital status, family? Any information like that?’

  ‘No, but her emergency contact is given as a man called Nicholas Sturgess.’

  ‘Oh, great, do you have a telephone number for him?’

  ‘Well, yes, but bear in mind this is out-of-date information. The number still has the old code.’

  ‘Can I have it?’

  ‘I don’t see why not. Have you got a pen?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘OK – the number is 081 334 9090.’

  ‘Great, thank you. Anything else?’

  ‘Not really,’ said the woman. ‘There’s no record of any work after graduation. But that could be because she didn’t stay in touch. A lot of students just disappear. But, ahm, she does seem to have given us some information about, well, I hope this doesn’t have a negative impact on your casting decisions, but according to my records she got her first acting qualification at, er, Holloway.’

  ‘Holloway?’

  ‘Yes, HM’s Prison.’

  ‘She was in prison?!’

  ‘Well, yes, it would appear so. She took a foundation course there, in acting. I assume that that must have been while she was, er, incarcerated.’

  ‘God, does it say what she was in for?’

  ‘No. That’s all it says. Gosh, how fascinating.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Leah, ‘that really, really is. Thank you so much. You’ve been incredibly helpful.’

  36

  Damian Ridgeley was a medium-sized man, about thirty years old, with hair the colour of Lucozade and a grey French Connection T-shirt on. He had an accent of some description, a lazy Hicksville twang, could have been West Country, could have been East Anglian, flattened out, either way, by a few years in London. He wore a ring on his wedding finger and a chain round his neck. On his forearm there was a tattoo of a mermaid. He was standing on Toby’s doorstep, but Toby had no idea why.

  ‘Leah sent me,’ he said.

  ‘Leah?’

  ‘Yes, you know, Leah. From over the road. She said you had a job for me.’

  ‘She did?’

  ‘Yes. Didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘Well, no. But then I haven’t seen her for a few days.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘do you? Have a job?’

  ‘Well, that depends, really. What sort of job are you qualified to do?’

  ‘I’m a project manager. I renovate old houses.’

  ‘And you’re a friend of Leah’s?’

  ‘I’m her second cousin. Or her half cousin. Or something like that.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Right, well, then, why don’t you come in?’

  Damian perched himself on the edge of the Conran sofa and sipped a cup of peppermint tea (Toby liked that he’d asked for peppermint tea).

  ‘So,’ he said. ‘What do you think? Is it the sort of job you’d want to take on?’

  Damian nodded, slowly. Damian did everything slowly. There was something a bit Zen about him, Toby thought. It wouldn’t have surprised him to find that he meditated in his spare time, did a spot of Tai Chi in the mornings. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Sure. There’s no restructuring, no building work. I mean, essentially you’re just looking for a facelift, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Cool.’ He pulled a notebook and an expensive-looking pen from the inside pocket of his denim jacket and made some notes. ‘I’ve just had a cancellation, a pretty big job, so I’ve got some guys at a loose end. I could get some people in next week. When are the bathrooms and kitchen coming?’

  ‘Well, I haven’t actually bought them yet.’

  ‘Cool. No worries. We can crack on with the plumbing, the roof. Get on with the kitchen and stuff once you’ve chosen them. I can get you what you want at trade if you’d like.’

  ‘You can?’

  ‘Sure. You go shopping, tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. I can get you all your white goods, too. Whatever it is you need, just let me know. I’ll charge you for my time, but it’ll still work out much cheaper.’

  ‘God, that would be great. I seem to have got into a bit of a habit of overspending on things for the house, so it would be great to save a bit of money.’

  ‘Make up for the extra you’ll be spending on me, then.’ Damian smiled and Toby breathed a sigh of relief. Damian was clearly from a different school of tradesmanship. Damian was clearly a professional.

  ‘Will you require a deposit? Something up front before you start?’

  ‘I’ll put a quote together, put it through your door later on today. If you approve, I’ll let you have a schedule of works. Once the boys are in and we’re all happy, I’ll ask for 20 per cent of the invoice. Total payable at the end of the project. Simple. Easy. No room for complications. Just how I like it.’

  He took Damian’s hand at the door a few minutes later and shook it warmly and strongly, and perhaps for a split second too long. He felt like a man who’d just met the girl of his dreams and was already feeling paranoid that she wasn’t really interested and that he’d never see her again. He carried Damian’s mug through to the kitchen, tenderly, trying to prolong the sense of connection to him. He balanced Damian’s beautifully designed business card against the kettle and stared at it, wistfully. Then he went upstairs and slowly, deliberately and, he hoped, not prematurely ran a line through items 6, 7 and 8 on his to-do list.

  37

  Toby saw Leah come home a few hours later. He gave her half an hour to make herself at home, get into her pyjamas, do whatever it was she usually did when she got home from work, then he headed downstairs. He stopped in the hallway to check his reflection. He had a bit of cobweb attached to his hair. He didn’t know where it had come from or how it had got there, but he was glad that he’d thought to check before he left the house.

  He felt a sudden surge of nerves as he stepped across the road to Leah’s house and stood outside her front door for a full five minutes, trying to work up the courage to ring on her doorbell, but she looked happy to see him when she came to the door. She was wearing faded jeans with an embossed nubuck belt and a black cashmere sweater. Her hair was down and she was wearing glasses.

  She took them off as she led him inside and placed them on top of an open paperback. He tried to see what book she was reading, but didn’t recognize the name of the author.

  Leah’s flat was very neat, very modern. She had a big grey sofa, a black coffee table and a TV in a cabinet. There were a few Pink Hummingbird–style lamps and mirrors around the place to soften it up, but essentially it was a masculine flat.

  ‘I’m so glad you came over,’ she said, hooking a shank of blonde hair behind her ear. ‘I’ve been meaning to come and see you, actually, but then I see you up there, in your window and you always look so… engrossed. I hate the thought that I might accidentally disturb you in the middle of writing a poem and ruin the whole thing.’

  ‘Oh, no, you must never worry about that. I am eminently disturbable, I can assure you. Any excuse to get away from my computer. The two of us spend far too much time together as it is.’ He grinned and put his hands in his pockets.

  ‘Can I get you a coffee? A tea?’

  ‘Tea would be great. Thank you.’ He watched her move to the kitchen and fill the kettle. ‘I saw Damian today.’

  ‘You did. Excellent. I’m so glad. How did it go?’

  ‘I think I’m in love.’

  ‘He’s brilliant, isn’t he?’

  ‘He is. And he’s starting work next week.’

  ‘Fantastic!’

  ‘Thank you so much, for organizing that for me. I’m incredibly grateful.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so relieved. I was really worried that you might think I was being a bit meddlesome.’

  ‘Meddlesome? No, why would I think that?’

  ‘Well, you said you’d changed your mind about selling the house.’

  ‘Well, yes, but that was mainly because I couldn’t stomach finding someone to do the work when everyone I came into contact with was a complete cowboy. But now I’ve met the venerable Damian…’

  ‘You’ve changed your mind?’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose I have. Although the problem of extracting my deep-rooted tenants is still no closer to a resolution.’

  ‘Ah, right. That’s another thing I have to confess to having taken into my own hands.’

  ‘It is?’

  ‘Uh-huh. I invited Joanne to a party at the shop last week.’

  ‘You did?! My God – did she come?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, that’s quite remarkable. You obviously have great powers of persuasion. Did you manage to uncover any interesting facts about her?’

  ‘I found out that she trained at the Central School of Drama. So I phoned them and asked them loads of questions about her and guess what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She’s been in prison.’

  ‘No way! What for?’

  Leah shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But it was years ago, when she was young. And guess what else?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I have a phone number for her next of kin. A man called Nicholas.’

  ‘Wow! And who is he?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve tried calling about fifty times, but there’s never a reply and there’s no answer phone, so I’m just going to keep trying. But he’s obviously someone significant. And that’s not all.’

  ‘It isn’t?’

  ‘No. I’ve found a man. For Melinda. A big, handsome Italian with a huge house in Muswell Hill who’s sweet and lonely and loves English blondes. They’re made for each other. We’ll have to set them up on a blind date.’

  ‘My God, Leah. You’re a marvel.’

  ‘I know!’ she smiled.

  ‘You know something,’ he said as he took a mug of tea from her outstretched hand, ‘I’m so glad it was you who found Gus on the pavement. I don’t know you very well – in fact, I don’t really know you at all – but it’s obvious that you’re a good person and not just a good person but a truly special person.’

  ‘Oh, well…’ Leah shrugged, awkwardly.

  ‘No, really. You’re so confident and uncomplicated. You’re the sort of person who one might look at and think, what would it be like to be someone like that just for a day, to see life in such a clear and intelligent way, to know who you are, to understand other people, what makes them tick, how to make them happy? And frankly, your boyfriend, that nurse chap, I mean, I’m not sure what he was thinking. I can only imagine he must have been threatened by your overall… greatness, and that’s why he didn’t want to marry you, but really, by any measure, you are entirely eligible and really very… desirable.’