‘God no,’ Teddy nods, ‘because she’s not a fifty-seven-year-old man who’s compensating for being too embarrassed to approach the pharmacy counter in Boots to buy Viagra.’
‘Of course,’ Francesca nods, unfazed by Teddy’s long-winded analogy. ‘If you’d like to join me in the office, we can go through everything.’
‘I want it in sky blue,’ Paula tells the group. ‘I’ve always wanted a sky-blue car.’
She turns to follow Francesca, when her handbag starts to ring. She pulls out her phone. ‘It’s Tilly,’ she says conversationally.
‘Your daughter,’ Audrey says and it’s not a question. She seems to know everything about everyone. She seems to know all their stories before they’ve even entered a room. She’s probably hugged them all already, too.
‘Hello, Tills, are you OK?’ Paula answers and even she can hear the weird, fake tone in her voice.
‘Mum? Where are you?’
Paula tenses. ‘Has something happened?’ She’s suddenly picturing Craig and his friend going to her daughter’s house, grabbing her and Misha, hurting them.
Tilly makes an apologetic noise. ‘No, no! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just . . . I’m at the house, and Seb doesn’t know where you are.’
‘No,’ Paula agrees, feeling unsure. She doesn’t want to explain.
‘Well?’ Tilly’s using her worried voice. ‘Where are you?’
Paula pauses before answering carefully. ‘I’m in London.’
‘London?’
‘Yes, I’m . . . shopping.’
‘You’reshopping?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh.’ Tilly sounds nonplussed. ‘Well, I suppose that’s good. I’ve been telling you to spend some of that money, haven’t I? Have you bought anything nice? You could do with a new shower curtain in the bathroom, y’know. If you’re near John Lewis or anything.’
Paula swallows. ‘Yes, that’s a very good thought, Tilly. I’ll get on that. And maybe a new bath mat, too.’
‘Great!’ Tilly pauses. ‘You should get something fun, too,’ she tells her encouragingly. ‘Maybe a new handbag or a fancy coat! You deserve it!’ There is a long silence before her daughter continues, ‘Um, Mum? You know you’re acting a bit weirdly, don’t you?’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK.’
There is another heavy pause on the line between them and Paula waits anxiously. At last, Tilly sighs heavily. ‘You’re coming to the next session tomorrow with Gerald, aren’t you?’
‘Gerald?’
‘The grief counsellor! Our next family session is tomorrow. It’s every Tuesday, remember?’
‘If that’s what you want, then of course, Tilly.’
‘WhatIwant?’ Tilly sighs again. ‘OK, whatever, yes, I want us to continue with the family grief counselling.’ Paula doesn’t reply, and when Tilly speaks next, there is hurt in her voice.‘Right. I guess I’ll speak to you soon then. Enjoy . . . London or whatever.’
‘Thanks, Tills.’
Her daughter hangs up and Paula feels a beat of worry pulse through her. She knows her children are concerned. They have every right to be, but she doesn’t want to share any of this just yet. She doesn’t want to share The Lottery Winner Widows Club. She’s not quite sure what to make of it herself yet.
As she puts her phone away, she notices she has a text. She doesn’t know the number but opens it anyway. The message is only five words long.
