I stare at him, feeling hurt. I was rather proud of my pattern theory. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Elinor retreating toward the door. She’s not trying to escape, is she?
“Where are you going?” I grab her. “Tell him about the cottage.”
“Cottage?” Luke manages to make the word “cottage” sound highly suspicious and sinister. I nudge Elinor to speak. Honestly, these two really don’t help themselves.
“Dirk Greggory has died,” says Elinor. “You were fond of his cottage, I think. It will be possible for us to visit one last time before his daughter sells it. But I will have to let the family know.”
“Oh.” Luke sounds taken aback. “I see.”
“I have a photograph of you there,” says Elinor to my surprise, and opens her bag.
She produces an ancient-looking crocodile case, and snaps open the stiff clasps. I immediately see an old black-and-white print of some gorgeous-looking man, which Elinor bundles out of view. She leafs past about five more pictures, then removes a photo and hands it to Luke.
“You remember this?”
I peer at the photograph with curiosity and see a younger-looking Luke standing on a wide, sandy beach, dressed in a polo shirt and rolled-up cotton trousers, with bare feet. He’s holding a wooden spade and laughing. His hair is longer than it is today, and it’s rumpled in the wind. I feel a tiny stab of jealousy. I wish I’d known him then.
Luke gives the photo the barest glance. “That was a long time ago.”
“You were twenty-three. It feels like only a year or two ago.” Elinor places a different photo on top, without saying anything. This time, Elinor is in the shot too. She’s wearing such a hideous-looking mustard-colored halter-neck and slacks combo, I nearly gasp. But her sunglasses are quite cool, and the setting is amazing. The pair of them are standing on a boat, with nothing but ocean in the background.
“You carry photographs around with you?” I can’t help saying incredulously. Elinor immediately looks as though I’ve tapped into her secret source of weakness.
“A few,” she says, her face closing up. “On occasion.”
She’s like a snail, I think, in fascination. Every time you touch her, she retreats. But the point is, snails can be tamed.
Actually, can snails be tamed? OK, she’s not a snail, she’s a … tortoise. No. A meerkat? No. Oh, fuck knows what she is. The point is, this picture seems to have gripped Luke. I can’t tell if he’s gazing at the sea or the boat or Elinor’s revolting outfit, but something has got to him.
“Minnie would love it there.” He glances up at me. “So would you. It’s a magical place. The sand, the sea … You wouldn’t believe it.”
“You could easily charter a boat,” puts in Elinor.
“Minnie should learn to sail.” Luke has that gleamy, distant look he gets when he’s making plans. “Becky, you need to learn to sail too.”
Luke’s mentioned the whole sailing thing quite a few times in our marriage, and so far I’ve managed to avoid it.
“Can’t wait!” I say brightly.
The oven pings and we all jump. It’s as though we’ve come back to life. For an awful moment I think Luke’s going to snap back to his cold, angry self and tell Elinor to leave. But instead he looks up from the photo and surveys each of us in turn. He walks over to the window, heaves a deep sigh, and rubs his face with the flat of his hands.
I know it’s all going on inside his head. He hates to be rushed; we just have to let him get there. Elinor is following my lead. She’s standing absolutely still, barely even breathing.
“Look … maybe this has gone on long enough,” Luke says at last. “I’d like to … start again.”
As the words leave his mouth, I practically collapse in relief. Elinor doesn’t move very much at all, but I’ve learned to read her too. The two lines at her jaw have relaxed, which is the equivalent of her going Phew!
“I would like that,” she says in a low voice. “I meant what I said.”
“I know. And I didn’t mean what I said.” Luke smiles, a rueful boyish smile that makes my heart constrict. It hasn’t been easy for him, losing one mother and loathing the other. “Come here.” He pecks Elinor on the cheek. “You’ll stay for supper?”
“Well …” Elinor shoots a questioning look at me, and I nod.
“May I have the key back now?” Luke says to me.
“I suppose so,” I say teasingly, and hand it to him.
“And you must meet Minnie,” he adds to Elinor. “She won’t be asleep yet; I’ll get her up. Minnie!” he calls, unlocking the kitchen door. “There’s someone for you to meet! You haven’t seen her since she was a baby,” he adds to Elinor as he strides out. “You’ll get such a shock.”
Minnie.
Shit. Minnie. As far as Luke is concerned, Minnie and Elinor are strangers. Elinor and I meet eyes, and I can tell we’ve had exactly the same thought.
OK. Don’t panic. It’ll be fine. I just need to think quickly. I need to head this off. Think … think …
I can hear Minnie pattering down the stairs, and Luke following her and saying, “Now, Minnie, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Surprise!” replies Minnie. “Present?”
“No, not a present, a person, and here she is.…”
The kitchen door opens and Minnie stands in the doorway, a tiny figure in her frilled white nightdress and rabbit slippers. “Ladeeeeee!” she cries joyously.