‘Do you want me to—’
‘No. I do not want you to make that phone call. Without being rude, you’ve done quite enough.’
‘It is actually quite rude. I only went on a date.’
‘Yes, well, anyway,’ Clara said. And then, clearly remembering something Lucy had said moments ago. ‘Hang on – Will helped get rid of him? Shouty neighbour Will?’
Lucy nodded with wide eyes. ‘I know. He’s turning into a bit of an asset. Fixes gates, gets rid of strange men I really shouldn’t have brought back to the house.’ Lucy wasn’t sure what kind of reaction that was going to receive and braced herself.
But Clara became quiet and then said, ‘Is he good-looking?’
Lucy looked away from her sister. ‘Um, yes, I suppose.’
‘How are you getting on at the house?’ Clara said, abruptly changing direction – thank God.
‘Today I’m going to buy paint. And then later I’ll start on the house. May rip up some of the old carpets, expose some of the original wood flooring, especially in the bedrooms. Then it will look so much more attractive for when the estate agent sends the photographer.’
‘Look,’ Clara said, putting her cup down and eyeing Lucy with concern. ‘You being here is helping no end. All the little odds and ends that need sorting at the house. But do you think all this is to put off something?’
‘Put off what?’ Lucy asked with genuine confusion.
Clara shrugged. ‘A real job? One you love. Or settling down? You tell me.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Lucy said but now she didn’t know. Clara was making her feel unsure of herself.
‘Well, first you didn’t want to be here and now you don’t seem too eager to leave. Why is that?’
‘I’m not, actually, desperate to leave,’ she said, although she hadn’t realised it until this point.
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It’s a holiday, isn’t it, all this? At the end, I’ll pack up and go home.’
‘But eventually, once Deux Tourelles sells, you’ll actually have … dare I admit this … quite a lot of money,’ Clara said.
‘It might not sell for ages. These house sales take on a life of their own in the end,’ Lucy reasoned. This conversation had changed direction into a more positive space and so Lucy steeled herself. They had to talk about the slap. She took a deep breath. It was going to have to be Lucy who started.
‘Have you thought about what you might want to do, after?’ Clara continued.
Deflated, Lucy answered. ‘The same as now.’ She knew it wasn’t quite true. Why wasn’t it quite true? What had actually changed – perspective perhaps?
‘Really? OK,’ Clara conceded. ‘We’ll leave it there.’
‘Are you attempting to give me some quick-fire therapy?’
‘No,’ Clara said. ‘As long as you’re happy.’
‘I am … I mean … well … I am.’
‘All right. I’ll ring and sort the estate agent out,’ Clara said, changing the subject back to safer ground. ‘And I’ll buzz you later and see if you need help painting, if you’re in.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be in?’
‘Seeing Will at all today?’ Clara suggested, seemingly out of nowhere.
Lucy felt herself blush, which wasn’t her style at all usually. ‘Well, he did suggest we go to a museum together.’
‘Did he?’ Clara sipped her coffee and looked at Lucy with a knowing expression.
