‘Where’s Iris?’ Olly asks without so much as a greeting. ‘She didn’t come running.’
‘She’s having a nap on the sofa.’ As I say that, I marvel that she was able to fall asleep. I’d have expected Josh’s death to prey on her mind too much for her to do that. But perhaps she just feels utterly exhausted by it all.
I watch Olly from the living room doorway as he tiptoes to the sofa and looks down at his sister. He has his back to me and I can’t see the expression on his face. Once upon a time he might have shouted ‘boo’ in Iris’s ear or drawn whiskers on her face or something. But we’ve all kept Iris wrapped in cotton wool since the beginning of last December and, instead, Olly takes the blanket from the back of the armchair and puts it over her, pulling it up to her chin and then tucking it around her. So, Olly knows about Joshua, too.
Olly goes upstairs to get showered and changed. Margo gives me an overly detailed account of her day. We usually snuggle up on the sofa to do her reading – we aim for at least two chapters a day – but because Iris is asleep, we sit down at the kitchen table. By the time Olly comes back downstairs, Margo and I have finished reading for this evening and Ash has arrived, armed with bags of curry. Olly lets him in and I wake up Iris.
Ash must have had time to pop home – he’s ditched the suit and is wearing jeans and a faded R.E.M. T-shirt. And socks – Daniel doesn’t allow anyone to wear shoes in the house, including our guests, especially Ash.
‘I’ve got chicken tikka masala, biryani and beef vindaloo,’ he says as I get out plates and cutlery.
He smells good – clearly, he’s had time to take a shower, too. I notice he has also brought a bottle of white wine.
He turns to Margo and adds, ‘Oh, and for you, young lady, saag paneer and aloo gobi.’ She brightens and I throw Ash a grateful smile for remembering that my stepdaughter is a vegetarian. ‘With lots of rice and naan for everyone, of course.’
There’s so much food that there will be enough for us to heat up again tomorrow. The day after that, when Daniel comes home, I’ll make the effort to cook another of the few meals I can master.
I send Margo into the living room to choose a film on Netflix. ‘Find something that everyone will enjoy,’ I say.
‘I’ll take in the popcorn,’ she says, skipping off happily before I can change my mind.
We don’t usually watch TV in the week when the kids are at school. In fact, it doesn’t even happen that often at the weekends as Iris and Olly tend to beat a retreat upstairs in the evenings after dinner and I don’t see them again until I poke my head round their bedroom doors to say goodnight.
Olly helps clear up without having to be asked. Another rare event. I remember him dropping his bowl yesterday morning, but I bite back a warning to be careful with the plates.
‘Iris knows about Joshua,’ I say to Ash.
‘How are you feeling, Iris?’ Ash asks. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Not you, too!’ she replies, clearly trying to pretend it’s no big deal and she’s OK.
I must say, Iris is taking this better than I thought she would. But perhaps the shock hasn’t kicked in yet. I leave her with her father in the kitchen and usher Olly into the living room, carrying the bottle of wine in one hand and my glass in the other. Ash has had one glass and I know he won’t drink any more. He’s a good driver, although a slightly overcautious one – he can be a bit heavy-footed on the brake. I’ve never known him to have bouts of road rage or to drink-drive.
‘Does everyone in school know about Joshua?’ I ask Olly, careful to keep my voice low so Margo doesn’t hear.
‘Dunno,’ he says.
‘Who told you?’
But he doesn’t get to answer as Margo asks, ‘Olly, can you hand me a bowl for the popcorn?’ She points at the sideboard on which a handful of birthday cards still stand from Olly’s eighteenth. Was that really only the day before yesterday? It seems like weeks ago.
He does as she asks. She has plopped down on the sofa and pats the seat to one side of her for Olly and to the other side for me. Iris and Ash join us in the living room.
‘What film have you decided on, Maggot?’ Olly asks, taking the bag of popcorn from Margo’s hands and opening it.
‘Don’t call me that,’ she says, but it’s a half-hearted protest. Margo’s big stepbrother can do no wrong in her eyes. ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love,’ she says.
‘Good choice.’
Margo beams.
Margo, Iris and I have watched the film before, but it makes us all laugh. I almost forget for a moment that Joshua has been murdered. Almost.
I remember, too late, that in the film Jessica takes nude photos of herself for Cal. Very awkward. And, far more importantly, potentially triggering. I glance at Iris and see that her jaw is set in a determined line. Olly chooses this moment to pass her the popcorn. If there’s one good thing that has come out of this mess, it’s how close the two of them have become. A few moments later, I hear Iris laugh, just a little, but it’s enough for me to breathe normally again.
I notice that Ash has topped up my wine and, as I lean forwards to pick up the glass from the coffee table with one hand and grab a handful of popcorn with the other, my attention is drawn to the plaster on my finger.
Josh was stabbed. Those words come to me, in Ash’s voice. When he told me that earlier, I didn’t make the connection. But now … I try to dismiss the suspicion that’s corkscrewing its way into my head before it can twist in any deeper. No. What on earth am I thinking? There’s no way. There’s no connection. It’s a coincidence. I mustn’t go there.
