Sleight of Hand by Nick Alexander

London?” I ask again.
    â€œSearch me,” Jenny says, pulling a circumspect face.
    When we get back to the house, I open the front door and Sarah runs straight upstairs. Jenny, for her part, hovers on the doorstep.
    â€œAre you OK?” I ask. “You look a bit pale.”
    â€œYeah,” she says.
    â€œActually, you’ve gone green. You’re not going to faint are you? You’re not having another fit?”
    Jenny scrunches up her nose. “No. It’s just … Look. I haven’t been in the house actually. Not since, you know … Not since Mum died.”
    â€œOh,” I say thinking back to the funeral and realising that she stayed in the garden the entire time. “God.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œDo you want to go down the pub or something, have a pint first?”
    â€œI’m not allowed to drink.”
    â€œOh. OK. You could go back to the hotel for the night maybe?”
    Sarah comes back downstairs carrying Polly Pocket. “What are you doing?” she asks as she reaches the porch.
    â€œNothing,” Jenny says.
    â€œAre we going out again?”
    Jenny puts one foot upon the doorstep. Her eyes flick down at the hall floor. “No,” she says.
    I step up beside her and take her hand. “I’ve been here for the last two days. It’s fine,” I say.
    â€œRight. On three,” Jenny says.
    â€œOn three.”
    â€œOne, two, three, go …” She shakes my hand free and strides along the hall straight into the kitchen where she instantly busies herself filling the kettle and putting teabags in cups. But I catch a glimpse of her face and see that her eyes have a glassy shine to them.
    When Sarah heads out into the back garden, Jenny asks, “So what are we telling madam?”
    â€œAbout?”
    â€œAbout Mum.”
    â€œOh. Um – that she’s in heaven.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t know what you wanted to say.”
    â€œIt’s fine. I just need to know. So we both say the same thing.”
    â€œShe’s in heaven. And they have lots of chocolate but no phones.”
    â€œOh yeah. I remember now. You told me yesterday. If only, eh?”
    â€œSorry?”
    Jenny shrugs. “I’m not, you know … a great believer in heaven.”
    â€œNo,” I say. “But then again, who actually knows? Maybe it’ll turn out to be the best description anyone ever stumbled upon. A land of endless chocolate.”
    â€œI should have told her. I should have just said. But I thought she’d be too upset,” Jenny says, fishing out the teabags and adding milk. “Sugar?”
    â€œNo thanks. I thought she’d freak out too, but she seems to accept pretty much anything. She’s a great kid.”
    â€œShe is.”
    Jenny carries the two cups of tea to the kitchen table and we sit face to face. “So,” she says.
    â€œSo.”
    â€œI’m going to have to go and have a kip once I’ve had this.”
    â€œRight. I can make dinner, so …”
    â€œI’m ever so grateful for, you know … And I’m sorry I was a bitch.”
    I shrug. “I deserve it. It’s karma,” I say.
    Tears are clearly visible in Jenny’s eyes now and after a few sips of tea, I say, “I’m so sorry about your mum.”
    She sips her tea and flicks away a tear with one finger. “It’s not that,” she says. “I haven’t even had time to think about it. That’s the worst thing. Not having the time to think about anything.”
    I nod. “Sure. What with the hospital and everything. Still, you can have some time-out now. Just rest and think about everything. Get it all into perspective.”
    â€œYes,” Jenny says. “Get it all into perspective. Right.”

In a Sombre Landscape
    Jenny’s life imposes its own new rhythm upon mine. In the mornings, Jenny gets up and gives