‘That sounds crazy, right?’ Amy continued, straightening. ‘I’m sounding totally bat-shit crazy. It’s just I get these ideas, you know? About how we’re all on this planet in our separate little bubbles and it could all be so much nicer if we shared stuff. And . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway.’
I sipped my tea and swallowed with difficulty. Something in her words, something about the separate bubbles had reached me, but I couldn’t think of a sensible way to respond.
‘Look, even I can hear how crazy I sound,’ Amy said. ‘So don’t worry. I am aware.’
‘Look, it doesn’t sound crazy,’ I said. ‘Well, not completely. And I know what you mean, in a way. But, well, it’s not going to . . . to fly, as you say.’
‘It’s not, is it?’ Amy said, wrinkling her nose. ‘And now I feel a bit dumb, so . . .’
‘Please, don’t,’ I said. ‘It’s a sweet idea. And I’d love to go to Spain some day. But . . .’
‘Maybe you’d like to discuss it with your husband?’ Amy suggested. ‘Just in case?’
‘With Ant?’ I laughed. ‘No, look . . . I don’t want to be rude, Amy . . .’
Amy raised her palms and made a quiet ‘Ouch!’ noise, which made me laugh.
‘But the thing is, well, we don’t know you, do we? We don’t really know you at all.’
‘God, that British reserve,’ Amy said. ‘I mean, I’m half British, but I never quite get used to it.’
‘I don’t think that’s really what this is,’ I said. ‘I think this is more—’
‘That the idea’s just insane?’ Amy said.
‘Not insane, but, well . . . It is a bit unusual,’ I offered, squinting at her in a kindly manner.
‘OK,’ Amy said. ‘I just thought, you know . . . But OK.’
‘It’s really nice of you,’ I said. ‘But . . .’ I shrugged.
‘No worries,’ Amy said, standing. ‘I should probably go.’
‘Please don’t rush off,’ I said. Despite her madcap idea, there was something I rather liked about her. Plus, it was so rare to have someone to talk to in the house. ‘At least drink your tea,’ I added.
Amy glanced at the mug of tea, still untouched. ‘Um, this is gonna sound even crazier,’ she said. ‘But I don’t actually drink tea.’
‘You don’t?’
‘No. I gave up coffee and alcohol too, but I have to admit to caving in on the alcohol front.’
I laughed. ‘Would you rather have a glass of wine or something?’
‘Oh no,’ Amy said. ‘No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that I don’t drink tea.’
‘Why didn’t you say, though?’ I asked her. ‘I could have made you something else.’
Amy shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I was trying not to be rude, I guess.’
If there was one feeling I knew well, it was that of not saying what you want in order to avoid conflict. Strangely, it made me like her even more. ‘Please have something else,’ I said. ‘I have juice. Or beer. Or wine. Or—’
‘No. Thank you. Really,’ Amy interrupted. ‘I just want to go home and lick my wounds, I think.’
I followed her to the base of the stairs, where she shouted Ben’s name in an impressively loud voice. He appeared, running down the stairs, seconds later. ‘Are we going already?’ he asked breathlessly.
‘I’m afraid so,’ Amy said as Lucy appeared on the landing above. ‘But maybe you two can play together again some other time.’
‘And Spain?’ Ben asked.
‘Sorry,’ Amy said, ruffling his hair, and then pushing him towards the front door. ‘But your dad was right. It’s not going to work.’
‘But why?’ Ben asked.
‘I’ll explain later,’ Amy said.
Just as I reached out for the latch, a shadow appeared on the other side of the window. I opened the door to find Anthony on the doorstep, key in hand.
‘Oh, hello!’ he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Ah, so you’re Lucy’s dad,’ Amy said.
‘And I’m guessing you’re Ben’s mum?’ Ant replied.
‘You two know each other?’ I asked hesitantly.
‘Yeah,’ Ant said slowly, without dragging his eyes from Amy’s face. ‘Yeah, um, Joe, Amy’s partner? Husband?’
‘Husband,’ Amy replied.
‘He did the kitchens out at Powell’s flats. Did a good job, too.’
‘Oh,’ I said, glancing between the two of them. ‘Right.’
‘Um, I should go,’ Amy said, sounding a bit flustered as she glanced over Ant’s shoulder towards her car.
‘Sure, yeah,’ Ant said, stepping aside so that they could shuffle around each other on the doorstep. ‘Bye then. And, um, give my regards to Joe.’
‘Yes, I’ll do that,’ Amy said.
‘Bye, Ben,’ Lucy, now glued to my leg, called out.
Once Ant had closed the front door and walked through to the kitchen, I went into the lounge. Through the bay window, I watched as the little sports car turned around and then pulled away down the drive. And I wondered what had just happened. Because something had. Of that much I was sure.
I watched the car vanish and then joined Ant in the kitchen. He had hung his jacket on the back of a chair and was crouching down to listen to Lucy’s chatter.
‘Where’s Sarah?’ I asked. ‘Lucy, where’s Sarah?’
Lucy shrugged. The shrugging was a new thing and she did it awkwardly, as if she hadn’t quite mastered the gesture yet.
‘Then go and find her, please. Make sure she’s OK.’
She huffed and then ran from the kitchen, shrieking ‘Sarah, Saraaah! Are you OK?’ as she climbed the stairs.
Ant moved to the sink, where he stared at the soup bowl and mugs. ‘Dishwasher broken?’ he asked.
Because I knew that this wasn’t an actual question, merely a reproach about the dirty items sitting in the sink, I ignored it and began emptying the dishwasher. As I did so, I considered the fact that Ant hadn’t initiated a conversation about Amy being here and how strange that seemed.
‘So how do you know Amy?’ I asked casually.
Ant had sat
