in front of her, was a photograph of a luxury nursery in Kensington with a delicate, hand-painted mural of fairies on the wall. A pink muslin canopy was draped over the white wicker crib and an antique rocking chair was filled with cuddly toys. Arabella wasn’t sure if Jane had submitted the feature specifically to annoy her. She wondered if perhaps Jane had overheard her and Emily discussing the disastrous IVF appointment all those months ago. Could Jane really be that callous towards her? she wondered. Or had she just photographed this nursery because of the lovely antique rocking chair? Perhaps it was all just an unfortunate coincidence? But whatever the reason for it, the damage was done now, and Arabella’s wounded heart finally constricted to the size of an apple pip.
She closed the folder and went out on to the fire escape for a sulk and a cigarette.
‘Emily, are you sure you want to go on seeing me?’ Dylan asked gently.
‘Yes, I’m having a lovely time,’ Emily replied, smiling up at him.
They were having lunch in the shop again – Brie and tomato sandwiches from the deli on the next street. Emily was sitting at the counter, sipping her coffee. Dylan was up a ladder, fixing one of the ceiling lights. Sylvia had gone back to the stables to care for a lame horse, so Dylan was in charge of the shop for another few days. He was hardly ever away from it these days, even though the initial agreement had only been for a couple of days a week – and, of course, the new shelving.
‘You’re very good at fixing things,’ Emily said approvingly as the new light flashed into life. An entire wall of shoes and belts began to sparkle under its starry glow.
‘Ah well, you pick up the odd little trick as you go along,’ Dylan said modestly. ‘In my younger days I once spent a summer as an electrician’s apprentice. And then during another summer I worked with a carpenter friend of my dad’s.’
‘What a useful man you are.’
‘I suppose I have my talents,’ he laughed. ‘Now, regarding my previous question, are you okay with things as they are? We haven’t been out much this last fortnight,’ he added.
‘That’s okay, I’ve been so busy at work,’ she smiled.
‘Yes, me too. But is everything really okay?’ he persisted.
‘Yes, of course it is. I do love the peacock-blue walls in here, by the way. They really show off the clothes beautifully, and the shoes too. It does feel just like a boutique.’
Clearly Emily wanted to change the subject, but Dylan needed to make sure things were fine between him and Emily before he could let it go.
‘Emily, can I ask you something personal?’ he said tenderly, getting down from the ladder and throwing the broken spotlight in the bin.
‘Sure. Fire away.’
‘Is there something else on your mind apart from us?’
‘No.’
‘Only I’m getting a feeling there’s something bothering you.’
‘No, really.’
‘Look, I’ll just say it straight out. Do you remember those things you donated a while back – the baptism gown and all the children’s books? Well, Sylvia showed them to me. She’s a bit concerned about you giving away such personal things. Were they your things when you were a little girl?’
‘Yes, they were. Have you sold them yet?’
‘No, they’re still in the storeroom. Are you sure you don’t want to keep them?’
‘No, it’s fine. I’ve really no room in the flat for a lot of stuff.’
‘But surely you could make room for a small box of books and keepsakes?’
‘I don’t want them any more,’ she said, still smiling firmly.
‘Tell me why?’ Dylan asked, sitting down and holding Emily’s hand gently. ‘Why don’t you want to keep precious things like that?’
Emily looked out of the window at the traffic going by. Two young girls came walking down the street, wearing woolly hats and scarves over their denim jackets and embroidered jeans. They looked like sisters; they were laughing at some private joke.
She closed the folder and went out on to the fire escape for a sulk and a cigarette.
‘Emily, are you sure you want to go on seeing me?’ Dylan asked gently.
‘Yes, I’m having a lovely time,’ Emily replied, smiling up at him.
They were having lunch in the shop again – Brie and tomato sandwiches from the deli on the next street. Emily was sitting at the counter, sipping her coffee. Dylan was up a ladder, fixing one of the ceiling lights. Sylvia had gone back to the stables to care for a lame horse, so Dylan was in charge of the shop for another few days. He was hardly ever away from it these days, even though the initial agreement had only been for a couple of days a week – and, of course, the new shelving.
‘You’re very good at fixing things,’ Emily said approvingly as the new light flashed into life. An entire wall of shoes and belts began to sparkle under its starry glow.
‘Ah well, you pick up the odd little trick as you go along,’ Dylan said modestly. ‘In my younger days I once spent a summer as an electrician’s apprentice. And then during another summer I worked with a carpenter friend of my dad’s.’
‘What a useful man you are.’
‘I suppose I have my talents,’ he laughed. ‘Now, regarding my previous question, are you okay with things as they are? We haven’t been out much this last fortnight,’ he added.
‘That’s okay, I’ve been so busy at work,’ she smiled.
‘Yes, me too. But is everything really okay?’ he persisted.
‘Yes, of course it is. I do love the peacock-blue walls in here, by the way. They really show off the clothes beautifully, and the shoes too. It does feel just like a boutique.’
Clearly Emily wanted to change the subject, but Dylan needed to make sure things were fine between him and Emily before he could let it go.
‘Emily, can I ask you something personal?’ he said tenderly, getting down from the ladder and throwing the broken spotlight in the bin.
‘Sure. Fire away.’
‘Is there something else on your mind apart from us?’
‘No.’
‘Only I’m getting a feeling there’s something bothering you.’
‘No, really.’
‘Look, I’ll just say it straight out. Do you remember those things you donated a while back – the baptism gown and all the children’s books? Well, Sylvia showed them to me. She’s a bit concerned about you giving away such personal things. Were they your things when you were a little girl?’
‘Yes, they were. Have you sold them yet?’
‘No, they’re still in the storeroom. Are you sure you don’t want to keep them?’
‘No, it’s fine. I’ve really no room in the flat for a lot of stuff.’
‘But surely you could make room for a small box of books and keepsakes?’
‘I don’t want them any more,’ she said, still smiling firmly.
‘Tell me why?’ Dylan asked, sitting down and holding Emily’s hand gently. ‘Why don’t you want to keep precious things like that?’
Emily looked out of the window at the traffic going by. Two young girls came walking down the street, wearing woolly hats and scarves over their denim jackets and embroidered jeans. They looked like sisters; they were laughing at some private joke.
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