remember it that wel . I’d invented what it’d be like. In my mind, you know? I thought it was palaces, very elegant people in tea dresses. Instead, it rained al the time, like this—’ She gestures out of the window, at the faint patter that has started to sound on the conservatory roof. ‘Dog mess everywhere, cracked pavements, no one friendly. The old lady next to me, she was from Delhi, she would go to the shops in her shabby old duffel coat, covering up her beautiful sari. At home she wouldn’t have had to put her coat on and cover up her lovely colours, be drab. That’s what I remember most of al .’
Jay looks at her. ‘I didn’t realise that, Mum,’ he says. ‘Oh, yes,’ Sameena says, pushing a bowl of dhal towards me. ‘But you know, these things pass. And then I was very happy. It’s my home, now. My home is with you. Al of you,’ she adds hurriedly, looking at me. ‘You and your mother too, Natasha.’
There’s a silence. We al eat some more. Sameena glances at her husband.
‘Are you looking forward to going back for the launch of the foundation, Natasha?’ she asks. ‘It sounds like a wonderful day. You know, they’re cal ing people up about it already. And everyone’s saying yes.’
‘I don’t real y know much about it,’ I say. ‘Mum hasn’t told me a lot, and – wel , Guy’s the other trustee. I don’t real y know him either.’ I look down at my plate.
‘We’ve been contacting people about it al week,’ Archie says. ‘Very notable people.’ He sighs. ‘It’s going to be impressive, I think. Only two weeks to go.’
‘Do I need to do anything?’ I say. ‘Oh, no,’ he says. ‘Louisa’s got it al under control.’
I take a spoonful of sauce from the fish curry. It is delicious. The chil i puckers my tongue. ‘I guess I stil don’t know why it’s been so fast,’ I say.
‘Our mother wanted it that way,’ Archie says. ‘Wanted it to start as soon as she died.’ He shrugs his shoulders. ‘She spent a lot of time planning for it. And you know, the Tate Gal ery had already scheduled a major exhibition of her work, in 2011. Before she died. I don’t think she wanted it to go ahead. It’s strange.’
‘Why did she plan it out so much?’ I say. I remembered how pleased she was, but also a little agitated. She won’t be here for it now.
He sighs again. ‘I think she liked the idea that after she was gone, people could start to appreciate her paintings again, without her there. And you know, the foundation wil help young artists too, like she and Arvind were helped. He was funded to come over to Cambridge, she had patrons when she was younger. People looked after them. I think she wants to help others, now – now she’s gone.’
Sameena nods. ‘Very noble. It’s wonderful.’
‘Of course, that’s where most of the money’s going,’ Archie says. ‘We shal see.’ He looks at me, and at Jay. ‘Her children, we get very little.
That is what distresses me, on your mother’s behalf. The solicitors say—’ He stops, as if he’s gone too far. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says formal y. ‘Not suitable.’
‘No, go on,’ I urge. He frowns. ‘Natasha, it’s not your concern.’ I feel as though I’ve been slapped for being naughty. ‘She wanted you involved, she had her reasons, I’m sure. But for the moment you don’t need to do anything. When the estate is settled, and we know what the money is, we’l be able to consider applications, and you’l be involved then, vetting the applicants, their suitability. Perhaps talking to people, visiting their studios .
. . I don’t know.’
‘How ironic,’ I say. ‘Can I apply for some money?’ I’m joking.
Archie doesn’t smile. ‘You’re going?’ I ask him then. ‘Next month, back to Cornwal ?’
‘Yes, of course,’ he says. ‘Have you seen Arvind?’
Jay shoots me a glance.
‘I have not, no,’ Archie says. ‘We are going next week.’
‘Louisa’s been down there,’ Sameena says, and I’m sure it’s an innocent remark but Archie obviously doesn’t want to hear it.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘She’s been wonderful.’
‘She has,’ Archie says. ‘We are lucky.’
Suddenly I can’t resist. ‘Archie, can I ask you something?’
‘Yes, Natasha?’ Archie breaks another poppadom between his fingers.
‘Why – wel , why doesn’t Mum get on with her? Louisa’s been wonderful through this, organising the funeral, getting Arvind sorted, the foundation . . .’ My voice is loud in the silent dining room. ‘I don’t know what we’d al have done without her. And Mum – she thinks Louisa’s after her in some way.’
I know this is dangerous, but it is as close as I can get to asking Archie about the diary, about what happened to Cecily, and I don’t want to, here in front of Sameena and Jay, these people I love. I don’t want to start throwing accusations around about my mother when I have no real evidence myself.
Archie breaks the poppadom piece in half again. ‘You just said it. Louisa and your mother don’t get on. Never have done. That is al .’
I want to laugh, inappropriate as it seems. That’s only the beginning of it, I want to say.
But then he goes on: ‘Look, when we were growing up . . . it was a long time ago. We don’t real y talk about it much, because of the tragedy of my sister.’ He raises his head, and a lock of careful y combed hair fal s in his face, making him look much younger al of a sudden. ‘The truth is –
they were very different. You know? Louisa was – wel , I found her rather insufferable at times. Always offering to help. Much better behaved than us, our parents loved her. Always doing wel in her exams, good at sports.’ He stops and rubs his arms. He seems surprised he’s saying al this, and then he ploughs on. ‘I was fascinated by her. So was your mother. She was everything we weren’t. We weren’t good at anything in particular. No artistic prowess, we weren’t intel ectual. No good at sports. We weren’t blond, hearty. My mother was . . . disappointed
