Diane grinned. ‘You must meet George.’ She paused, wrinkling her forehead. ‘He’s your cousin. Or your half-cousin or half-second-cousin or something. Gareth is half-brother to both your mother and George’s father so you must be related, somehow.’ She beamed. ‘George is one of my favourite people.’
‘Oh.’ Tamzin felt suddenly flat. If Diane got chattering to this George about people Tamzin didn’t know, Tamzin would no longer have Diane’s attention. She glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll say hello before I leave.’
‘You’ll like George,’ said Diane, as if plucking Tamzin’s misgivings from the air. ‘Bryony adores him. They used to be in a band together, Jenneration. Do you like Indie Pop?’
‘Can’t bear it.’
She skulked downstairs behind Diane and hovered silently while Diane stood on her tiptoes to hug George. ‘You jumped my hedge.’
‘Gates are for boring dudes.’ George flipped off his baseball cap and threw it on the seat of a chair.
Tamzin felt her jaw drop.
George’s hair was the colour of a lion’s mane and clung around his head in quills, framing his eyes and pointing up his impressive cheekbones. Soft, youthful stubble defined the slant of his jaw. His eyes were brown-gold. They settled on Tamzin and she felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Then his lips curved slowly. ‘All right?’
She felt herself flush but she managed the accepted response. ‘Not bad. You?’
‘Yeah. Good.’ His gaze remained on her.
She was glad all over again for Alice’s dress. And that she’d washed her hair.
Diane began to explain. ‘This is Tamzin, who –’
‘Yeah, I get who she is. I’m still trying to get my head round Uncle Gareth having, like, this whole other family, though. Amazin’.’
‘I’m still getting my head around it myself. Sit down, you two.’
Tamzin forgot all about leaving after saying hello and chose a kitchen chair. Presently, lunch was set before her and she didn’t even realise what she’d eaten until the soup bowl was empty and all that was left of her roll was crumbs. But, apparently, this had happened while George attempted to explain the Jenner family tree on the inside cover of Diane’s address book, and Tamzin put in the missing family on the other half of the page, beginning with Pops and ending with herself, Natalia and Alice.
‘So my grandmother was naughty with your grandfather,’ observed George.
Facing one another over the kitchen table they talked non-stop whilst Diane cleared up and reflected on how it would reduce James’s stress levels if Tamzin had more days like this.
Much of his conversation over dinner, last night, had revolved around Tamzin. Parent’s Disease. Diane understood. She’d spent so many anxious years on tenterhooks over Bryony’s health.
The restaurant James had chosen backed onto Stamford’s water meadows and from the rear terrace they’d watched the ducks flying circuits and coming in to land as the sky turned purple and dark pink. ‘When one of your children is ill it’s like a spiky burden you carry around with you,’ he’d said. ‘I think about Tamzin all the time. I expect I talk about her all the time.’ His dark grey eyes crinkled. ‘But you’ve seen her on a bad day.’
‘It’s such a shame for her – for you all. Hasn’t she worked or studied since she left uni two years ago?’
‘Some days she won’t get out of bed.’
‘But she has nothing to get out of bed for. I thought that one of the symptoms of depression is feeling purposeless – isn’t that aggravated by her genuinely not having a purpose?’
‘The therapist said occupation can help some people. But it’s a vicious circle. She couldn’t hold down a job or attend a college because she’s too ill.’
They’d talked for hours: how excited Diane was about Bryony coming home – perhaps as early as next week – and how proud James was of Natalia and Alice. ‘Especially of how good they are with their little sister … And now I’ve brought the conversation back around to Tamzin.’
He’d driven her home at a reasonable hour, the journey in the soft black night seeming woefully short. Diane felt the back seat like a spectre and she almost expected it to rear up behind her booming: ‘You can’t ignore what happened here!’
But she had tried her best to, even when James kissed her goodnight. It had begun as such a quick kiss – his lips brushing briefly over hers. But then he’d gathered her up against him and let the kiss deepen, slowwww downnnn, sending goosebumps straight down her back. He was so warm. Her fingers had tangled themselves in his hair and she hadn’t wanted the kiss to stop.
And all day she’d nursed the memory of the evening like a happy secret.
‘How about we go down to one of the village pubs? Fancy a swift half at The Dragon, Diane?Diane?’
She jumped out of her daydream. ‘Not me today, George. Too much to do. I said I’d visit Gareth and I’ve just seen the time. Take Tamzin.’
