Tapestry by Fiona McIntosh

unconscious, or there unconscious. It doesn’t bring him back to you, keeping him in London. Besides, I imagine you can afford to hold his hand in either country.’
    ‘Whatever makes you say that?’ she asked, her tone brittle, ever touchy about her family’s financial position.
    ‘If you were only wearing a vintage Chanel coat, Jane, I’d allow that it might have been something you’d saved up for, or perhaps something given to you. The fact that you shrug it off so carelessly along with your Hermès scarf, and barely cast a backward glance at either, suggests you are used to wearing fine, thoroughly expensive clothes. The jewelled, harlequin leather Chanel hobo slouch, however, is a dead giveaway.’ She could feel the blush rising from her neck. ‘No one carries that sort of thing around London, unless she’s some sort of celebrity with lots of minders, or someone like you with access to money that she cares little for. Those three items alone amount to thousands of pounds and most people couldn’t hope to afford them.’
    She had the grace to show her embarrassment by looking down at her hands. How curious it was that he could recognise her styling choices.
    ‘Yes, all right.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I could sit by his bedside in London or in America.’
    ‘Nevertheless, how thoroughly pointless,’ he said, flicking away a piece of lint from his thin, sea-green V-neck. She’d thought his eyes were blue when they met, but she realised now they were green, echoing the soft, woven Italian yarn sweater. He touched the knot of his multi-coloured silk tie. It was a Paul Smith, so maybe she shouldn’t be surprised he recognised Chanel when he saw it. She’d bought Will the identical tie, but hadn’t given it to him yet. She didn’t want it to be the tie he wore to his own funeral.
    ‘So, what?’
    He blinked. ‘That’s up to you. You can either accept, or you can act.’
    ‘Robin, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    He grinned. ‘Irritating, isn’t it? But that’s my role. As I say, I can only show you the paths.’
    ‘I don’t see any.’
    ‘I’ve already given you a clue. Consider where Will would most like to be right now.’ He winked at her. ‘Apart from awake and in your arms.’
    ‘I can’t imagine,’ she said, frustrated. ‘Anywhere but where he is. I don’t know.’
    ‘Think about it.’ He handed her a card; she didn’t even know he’d been holding one. Then he stood up. Clearly the free session was over.
    ‘You haven’t shown me the path,’ she said, as he went off to fetch her belongings.
    He slipped the coat onto her shoulders. ‘When you arrive back at your hotel, your mind will feel clear, I promise. It will allow you to go back over what we’ve discussed and realise that I have given you the information you need to see a clear path. A straight line,’ he said meaningfully. ‘Trust your instincts, Jane.’
    She turned to face Robin as she knotted her scarf and slung her bag over her shoulder. She held out her hand. ‘Well, thank you … for your time. It has been interesting.’
    ‘Enlightening, I hope.’
    She smiled. ‘We’ll see.’
    Robin shook her hand. ‘You came to see me. Use what you learned. Use what you know. I promise, you alone have the capacity to keep William safe.’
    William . Jane never called him by his full name. She could feel the ball of emotion rising through her throat. ‘I … I wish I knew how.’
    He held her hand between both of his. ‘Search within. The answers are there, and even though you don’t feel it, I promise you I have shown you the path forward. And I know you need that self-assurance, that control. It’s up to you now to walk that track. It won’t be easy. One more thing to bear in mind: there’s a push and pull in life always.’ So did he. Jane gave a perplexed shrug. ‘For every action there’s a consequence,’ he said.
    ‘Yes,’ she replied, trying to show him she was following his line of