“What?”
“You’ve caught the sun. Just a bit. It’s nice to see you, anyway. I didn’t expect to see you so soon. You must be tired.”
Cat raised an arm to brush the hair off her brow. She is very beautiful, thought Isabel. That’s why all these men fall for her. It’s something to do with her profile, her nose. How strange that a nose can be the determinant of happiness or unhappiness; a few centimetres more gristle in the wrong place, just that, and Cat might have battled to find one man, let alone…how many boyfriends had there been over the last five years? Five?
“I slept on the plane,” said Cat. “Somehow. The woman sitting next to me was tiny, and the aisle was on the other side, and so I was able to sleep.” She closed her eyes and exposed her brow to the sun. Isabel watched her.
Charlie had stopped looking at the bees and was now crawling towards Cat. He was distracted, though, by a small stuffed dog which was lying on the blanket. He reached for it and began to suck one of its legs.
“Thank you for your message,” said Isabel. “You obviously enjoyed Sri Lanka.”
“Loved it,” said Cat. “I want to go back. The people. The place. Everything. I want to go back to Galle. It’s a place down in the south. An old fort.”
Isabel visualised a map of Sri Lanka. It was tear-shaped, was it not? The tear off the coast of India. “Well,” she said. “That’s next year’s trip sorted out for you.”
Cat opened her eyes. “Not next year. Sooner. Really soon.”
For a moment Isabel was silent as she contemplated the implications of this. Who would be in charge of the delicatessen while Cat was away? Then she asked, “Really soon means when? Next month?”
“Maybe,” said Cat. “But don’t worry. I won’t expect you to look after the shop. I’m going to advertise for somebody. A manager.”
Isabel looked surprised. From time to time Cat had extra people working in the delicatessen—there had been that Australian girl who had been so friendly with Eddie—but she had always maintained that another full-time salary would push the business into loss.
“I thought that margins were too tight,” said Isabel. “A manager?”
Cat did not look at her when she replied. “Change of plans. I think that I might be spending more time in Sri Lanka. I’ll need somebody who can run the shop full-time. Somebody who can supervise Eddie.” She let this sink in before continuing: “Actually, I’ve met somebody there. He’s an artist. He’s done up one of those houses in the Old Fort. It was a Dutch merchant’s house—a lovely place.”
Isabel listened attentively. “I’ve seen pictures of the town. I looked it up after you went. It looks…”
Cat did not give her time to finish. “He’s an Australian. From Melbourne. He’s lived in Sri Lanka for six years now. Quite a few foreigners live in Galle, you know. It’s the…the most gorgeous place. Courtyards. Frangipani trees. It’s so beautiful.”
Isabel kept her voice even. She had her differences with Cat, but she did not want to lose her. “You make me want to go there.”
“You’d love it,” said Cat.
“I’m sure I would.” Isabel let a few moments pass. “When will you go?”
Cat shrugged. “In six weeks’ time. Maybe two months’. It depends on who I find for the job and when that person can start.”
“And will you…” The question was left unfinished, but its meaning was clear.
“Forever? No, I don’t think so. Simon likes it there, but he likes to travel. He thought that he might spend some time here in Edinburgh. He’s never been to Scotland, but his father was Scottish, and he said that he always wanted to see it.”
Charlie had now abandoned the stuffed dog and started to crawl back towards Isabel. She reached out and put him on her knee. Cat watched idly; she was still in Sri Lanka.
Suddenly Isabel said something that she had not intended to say. She did that from time to time, as we all do, the words coming out unbidden. “Wouldn’t you like to settle down, Cat? Wouldn’t you like a baby? Just like Charlie?”
Cat froze. Isabel, realising what she had said, busied herself with Charlie, adjusting his hat, which had fallen down over his eyes. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“Oh, I suppose I’ve been worried about you. I want you to be happy, obviously I do. And, well, look at me. I’ve got Charlie now…” She was making it worse.
“I can settle down when I want,” said Cat. “Any time.”
Isabel was placatory. “Of course you could.”
“And you don’t need to have a baby to settle down. Some men may not want one, you know. We don’t have to tie them down with babies.”
Isabel said nothing. Cat’s meaning was clear. She—Isabel—was being accused of tying Jamie down; exactly the thing that she had tried not to do. “Is that how it looks to you?” she asked quietly. “Do you think that I’ve tied Jamie down?”
Cat hesitated. “Maybe. Maybe, a bit. After all, he’s much younger, isn’t he?”
“Do you think I’m not aware of that?”
Cat rose to her feet. “Look, I’m tired. And I don’t think this is getting us anywhere. I came to thank you for looking after the shop. I’m really grateful. And I’ve brought you something from Sri Lanka.” She fished in a bag that she had brought with her and extricated a box of tea. “White tea,” she said. “It’s a great delicacy. It comes from
