‘I forgot,’ I muttered. ‘I forgot that today is the anniversary of my husband’s death.’ I raised my eyes again to meet hers, which were full of sympathy. ‘Oh, Marilise, how could I?’ My voice grew harsh with disgust at myself. ‘Look at me, barely into a new relationship and so preoccupied that I forgot Paulo.’
‘But this is natural,’ said Marilise. ‘You have not forgotten, but you were not, perhaps, dwelling as you have done in previous years. That, my dear, is something to celebrate, not berate yourself for. Life – and you – moves on, and that is the right order of things.’
How could I explain to her that ‘dwelling’ was what had sustained me for the past three years, that holding tightly to my feelings for Paulo and my grief at losing him had sometimes been the only way I could stop myself tumbling into an abyss of despair? Now that I had let go of that rope, would I go into freefall?
‘I’m not ready to move on,’ I said stubbornly. ‘And not as much as Nick seems to want me to, not so quickly. He wants to leave England and roam the world, but I don’t.’
I knew the words were unfair, but they brought me some sort of perverse comfort. Marilise frowned.
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘You saw that estate agent. Nick might not be going to do anything soon, but he’s getting his ducks in a row. I’m tired of trying to untangle it all. I’m making plans, too. I’m going to apply for that training today. Don’t worry,’ I said, seeing her anxious expression. ‘It won’t mean anything for us. I can do the training in the evenings, mostly, and then use it when I need to. I promise that I will stay with you for as long as you want me.’
‘I worry little for myself,’ said Marilise. ‘Although I would be very sorry if you were to go. I worry more for you. This seems a quick decision, one that you are making through your emotions. Please give it some time – maybe you will feel different soon.’
I shook my head. The truth was that making a plan was the only way I could alleviate the turbulent feelings that were churning around inside me. When my mind turned to Nick, I felt worse; I could soothe myself with a sensible plan, even if it might not be my dream life.
‘Very well, you must do what you think is right, but I hope you give Nick a chance, a real chance.’
‘I am,’ I said, hoping myself that I would be properly able to. I changed the subject. ‘Are you looking forward to the girls’ Christmas show tonight?’
She accepted this turnaround gracefully and did not bring up Nick or the maternity nurse training again that day. We had our usual swim and in the afternoon started a game of Monopoly.
‘I can see why you wanted to play,’ I said, regarding my thin collection of properties in comparison to her bulging portfolio. ‘You’re ruthless!’
‘But don’t give up, Laura,’ she urged me. ‘You can still come back, with courage and a little skill.’
‘I would love to,’ I said, glancing at my watch. ‘But it’s time I got to the school. I’m taking the girls for a snack before we have to go back and get ready for the performance. Maybe Angela could take over for me?’
‘I know better than to do that,’ said an amused voice from behind me. It was Angela. ‘I’ve played Monopoly against Marilise before, and I’ve only just recovered. You go, Laura, and we’ll see you at the school at seven.’
Sofia was excited to see me and bounced around, begging to go to a coffee shop that one of her friends had talked about. I didn’t know where it was, but India did, and soon we were all sipping large hot chocolates and eating white chocolate chip cookies. We returned to the school about an hour later, when India went to find her own costume and Sofia showed me where her classroom was, down a long, oak-lined corridor, which was unlike any school I’d ever seen.
‘It looks more like someone’s house,’ I said, as she pushed open a heavy wooden door.
‘It used to be,’ she said, as we entered the classroom, which had the desks and wall displays I would have expected, but also a large fireplace and marble mantelpiece behind the teacher’s desk. ‘It got made into a school about seventy years ago. It’smuchnicer than my usual school. Look, this is where I sit.’
I was given a guided tour of the desk’s contents as the room filled up with other small, chattering girls and slightly bemused adults, and then she skipped off to some pegs at the back of the room and returned with a carrier bag.
‘This is my costume. I need help doing up the ribbons and then my hair and stuff.’
She got changed as I folded the clothes she discarded, then tied up about seventeen sets of ribbons down the back of herdress, wondering what the school would do if parents or other adults weren’t available to help. I hadn’t met a teacher yet. I had laid out the clips and bands Astrid had given me and started brushing Sofia’s hair, when a woman with a startlingly smooth and immobile face glided over to us.
‘Eugenia Tytherington-Smythe,’ she said by way of introduction. ‘This is my daughter, Vienna.’ A child with dark blonde hair and a furious expression scowled at me as I stammered a greeting. ‘Are you the nanny?’ continued Eugenia.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘I’m, er, well, I…’
I tailed off, not exactly sure what to say without going into details of the family that were none of this woman’s business. As a nurse I am trained to be extremely discreet. Sofia had not got the memo.
‘She’s Great-Granny’s nurse and Uncle Nick’s girlfriend,’ she piped up. ‘And she’s very good at doing hair.’
Eugenia’s expression didn’t – couldn’t? – change, although she darted her eyes at me sharply.
‘I see. Well, please don’t usethose’ – she jabbed a finger at the things laid out on the desk – ‘in Sofia’s hair. We have decided to keep Vienna’s classic and tasteful, and the photographs and video will look all wrong if Sofia has all this. My other daughter, Camilla, has a very large speaking part, so we have professional videographers coming.’
I glanced at Sofia, who was looking worried. I know what a lovely day out she had spent with Astrid and India choosing the special hair accessories, and how much she was looking forward to wearing them.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘The school guidelines said they could have whatever they wanted in their hair, as long as it went with the costumes, which these do.’
