I picked a collapsed chair off my stack and hit its seat smartly with my hand, unfolding it and starting a new row in front of the one Eilidh had already begun.
'Looks to me like you’re the one doing all the work.'
Eilidh paused; she looked straight at me to give her words emphasis.
'I’m not put upon.'
I placed a new seat next to the last.
'I never said you were.'
'You had that look, poor Eilidh all on her own again.'
I set another seat on the ground and held up my hands.
'Eilidh, I hardly know you and before I met you both in the pub that night it was years since I’d last seen John. I’m in no position to make assumptions.'
We worked without talking for a while, the only sound the scraping of chairs against the rough wooden floor until Eilidh said, 'The last time I saw you I said that every time we meet someone behaves badly. I guess I just proved my own point, sorry.'
I set up another chair.
'You must lead a pretty sheltered existence if you call that bad behaviour.'
'Perhaps I do.'
Eilidh unfastened another chair and wiped a hand across her face.
I hesitated then asked, 'Are you OK?'
'Yes, just a bit tired.'
'And staying up all night with fuck-ups like me probably doesn’t help.'
'It’s my job. Anyway, it’s only part-time.'
'I was hoping you’d say I wasn’t a fuck-up.'
She laughed.
'Well, you’re looking a whole lot better than you were a week or so ago.'
'I’m trying.'
It was my turn to look away.
Eilidh put her hand on my arm.
'What I mean is I don’t think you’re a fuck-up. Far from it.'
I asked softly, 'What do you think I am?'
'I think you’re a bit of a chancer.'
Our eyes met. My lips tingled with the thought of what would happen if I kissed her. I thought of Johnny. Then there was a sound from the back of the building. I looked round and saw Eilidh’s mother come through the door with a small child in her arms.
'Mum, you should have buzzed my mobile. I would have come down and got her.
William, this is my mother, Margaret.'
Margaret’s voice was on the edge of politeness.
'We’ve already met.'
'I was just giving Eilidh a hand with the chairs. Is this Grace?' Suddenly I felt awkward.
'I’ve not seen her yet.'
Margaret cradled the child close, her hand supporting its head.
'She’s just dropped off.'
'Give her here, Mum, she’s getting too big to carry any distance.'
Margaret kissed her granddaughter’s crown and for a moment I thought she was going to refuse, but then she passed Grace to Eilidh.
'There was no way I could manage that buggy up the stairs, I told you when you bought it that it was too heavy.'
'I wanted something sturdy.'
The two women had the same strained look round the eyes and the same sharp defiant chins. There was no doubting they were mother and daughter. I said, 'I’ll nip down and get the buggy for you.'
Margaret looked like she’d rather reject my offer, but Eilidh smiled gratefully.
'Would you mind, William? Then I can put her down in it.'
'No problem.'
When I returned, Margaret was sitting in one of the far rows of chairs with the baby on her lap.
