The Other Family

looks lovely. Tal and slim. Long, dark hair. A skirt, you’l be pleased to hear. What there is of it. But I can’t see any luggage.’ He turned and glanced at Margaret. ‘I think your guest has come to stay in what she stands up in.’

Amy had never been anywhere like the dining room of the Grand Hotel. It had upholstered chairs, and ornately draped curtains at the huge high windows, and the wal s were decorated with long, narrow panels of stylized fruit and flowers. The carpet was very thick, patterned with medal ions in russet and green, and so were the tablecloths and the napkins, which sat like smal icebergs in a forest of glassware. The tablecloths even had undercloths, which went right down to the floor, which was just as wel since they enabled Scott to stick his feet right out of sight so that they didn’t offend his mother.

Amy wasn’t quite sure what other things might offend his mother. They had, the previous afternoon when she got back from North Shields, gone shopping to buy her a skirt, and it hadn’t struck either of them, til they saw Margaret’s eyes on Amy’s legs, that the length of the skirt might signify as much as its existence in the first place. Margaret looked OK to Amy, because she was as Amy was expecting her to be, but she also looked a bit unpredictable, as if she might suddenly object to something that had never previously occurred to anyone as a potential flashpoint. Amy thought of catching Scott’s eye, and winking, but then she remembered that Margaret was Scott’s mother, and therefore not an appropriate subject for complicity, and refrained.

The other man, the sort of grandfather man, was fine. He’d told Amy he was an agent, that he’d known her father as a boy and as a young man, and he mentioned several names, people he represented, whom Amy had heard of. He seemed very easy and friendly, and Amy wondered if he was a kind of boyfriend, if that was the right word when you got as old as that, and he teased Scott about his appearance and Scott, who looked perfectly normal to Amy, didn’t seem to mind and just said cheerful y, ‘Places like this need a bit of shaking up, Mr Harrison,’ and Mr Harrison said,

‘Oh for God’s sake, lad. Bernie.’ And Scott had laughed and shaken his head and said, ‘Can’t do it, sir. Sorry.’

The menu was enormous. Margaret watched Amy reading it and then she said, in a voice with far more warmth in it than it had had before,

‘Choose whatever you like, pet. You must be hungry. They never give you anything but rubbish on the train.’

Scott shot Amy a warning look.

‘Thank you,’ Amy said politely.

‘Was it a good journey?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘And was Scott on the platform to meet you?’

‘Yes,’ Amy said. ‘Yes, he was.’

‘And what,’ Bernie Harrison said in a jocular voice, ‘do you think of the Frozen North so far?’

Amy put her huge menu down. She turned to look straight at him.

‘I think it’s wonderful.’

He said, laughing, ‘Wel , the station’s wonderful—’

‘ It’s nice of you, dear,’ Margaret said, ‘ but you’ve only seen that and Scott’s flat.’

‘I love Scott’s flat,’ Amy said.

‘Thank you,’ Scott said.

‘And,’ Amy said, deliberately ignoring him, and now looking straight at Margaret, ‘I love North Shields and the river and the metro and the bridges.’

She stopped. There was a brief silence.

‘Excuse me?’ Margaret said.

‘We went to a folk club on Friday,’ Amy said. ‘It was amazing. I – I just loved it. I loved the music. I can’t stop thinking about the music. I think it’s –

it’s so, so great. Up here.’

‘You came up on Friday?’ Margaret said.

‘Yes.’

Margaret looked at Scott.

‘You told me—’

‘Stop it,’ Bernie Harrison said.

‘No,’ Scott said to his mother, ‘you wouldn’t be told.’

‘I promised your mother—’

‘This isn’t about my mother,’ Amy said. ‘It isn’t about any mothers. It’s about us – us children.’

Bernie Harrison reached out and took Margaret’s nearest wrist.

‘There you go—’

Amy said, ‘I’m real y sorry if you thought I was staying with you but I’m not. I’m staying with Scott. I’ve had an amazing time, the best time. I’ve had the best time I’ve had since Dad died. I real y have.’

Margaret was looking at the tablecloth. Scott tried to catch Amy’s eye but she was stil looking at Margaret. So was Bernie Harrison.