The Family Tree by Isla Evans

touring Australia. So his unit’s empty. And that’s it. Not terribly exciting, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜Not terribly exciting is exactly what I want.’ Kate took a sip of wine and watched Angie as she stirred the rice. ‘What about you? Is
exciting
what you’re after?’
    â€˜Not necessarily.’ Angie hesitated, as if in thought, and then began stirring again vigorously. ‘Melissa wants me to move over to England.’
    â€˜What!’
    â€˜Just for a year or so,’ added Angie quickly, still stirring. ‘She reckons I could afford to take a year off now that . . . you know.’
    â€˜I know.’ Kate waved a hand dismissively over that part of the equation. ‘But don’t tell me you’re thinking of it seriously? What about
Fully Booked
?’
    â€˜Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? There’s no way I’d find a manager I could trust enough for me to flit over to the other side of the world. Except maybe you, and you’re not interested.’
    This last was said almost as a question so Kate shook her head emphatically to lay the idea to rest. Then she looked at her cousin curiously. ‘But would you have considered it? If I’d been willing?’
    â€˜Not really,’ Angie shrugged, lifting the ladle out with a few grains of rice clinging to it. She blew on them lightly. ‘I’ve got to sort myself out here first.’
    â€˜Maybe you could go over on a holiday? A month or so?’
    â€˜Maybe. I’ll play it by ear.’
    â€˜And in the meantime, do find yourself a toy boy. Reclaim your youth.’
    â€˜Reclaim it? I don’t even remember it.’
    Kate ran her fingers through her damp hair to fluff it up, and then tucked it behind her ears. She took another sip of wine and smiled contentedly. It felt very strange to be sitting and watching someone else prepare a meal, with nothing to do but engage in light conversation. And every so often a stray thought would sidle away to wonder what was happening at home. She had left a casserole there also, but had anybody thought to put it in the oven? Had Jacob emerged from his room? Was Emma being strapped securely into her highchair? Was Sam just now getting home, tired and dirty, only to be confronted with the reality ofher absence? Would she ever find somewhere to store her residual guilt so that it was unable to seep out and infect her enjoyment?
    â€˜I suppose we should really work out something about cooking.’ Angie carried the pot of rice over to the sink and poured it into a colander. ‘I mean, it’s not fair that you should do it every day just because you’re home.’
    â€˜I don’t mind.’
    â€˜Well, you should. You’re supposed to be working, and you need to treat it just like you would if you were at an office.’
    Kate thought about this and then nodded. ‘You’re right. Well, what about taking it in turns?’
    â€˜Okay, but don’t forget I’m on a diet.’ Angie banged the colander sharply against the side of the sink and then spooned some rice onto two plates. She waved a hand dismissively at Kate, who had just started to rise. ‘Sit down. It’s under control.’
    â€˜You sure?’ Kate remained half out of her seat as she looked at her cousin questioningly. It wasn’t just that she felt she
should
help, but she actually
wanted
to. It wasn’t an altogether pleasant feeling merely sitting by.
    Angie waved her down again as she set the table briskly. ‘Anyway, so when does the masterpiece begin?’
    â€˜I wish you’d stop calling it a masterpiece. It makes me feel weighed down by expectations before I even begin.’ Kate smiled to lighten the words.
    Angie ladled chicken and thick honey-soya sauce over the rice and then brought the two plates over to the table. ‘Actually it’s a bit pretentious of you to assume I was serious. But no problem,