Page 58 of All Our Missing Pieces

Their scrabbly claws. She winced at the thought. And their tails – ugh!

Ugh, I agreed.

We looked at each other, grimacing, united in our distaste, and then we both laughed. It’s the first time I think I have shared a laugh with Beatrice and it felt good – it felt healing.

Anyway, she said. I was going to buy you some flowers, to say sorry. But I thought of something better.

Shyly, she turned around the sketchbook she was holding so I could see the page that had been pressed against her chest. It was a painting of the roses that grow in the garden square. Late in their season now, they are overblown and fading but still beautiful, all the shades of a sunrise in their delicate petals. She’d captured them perfectly, and in watercolour – my favourite medium.

The painting is exquisite, and I told her so.

You have real talent, I said. Have you always painted?

I don’t think I’m very good at it. My dad always tells me I am, but he loves me so of course he says nice things.

I laughed. That’s what fathers are for, isn’t it? But he is right. He’s not just being kind.

She said, Thank you, Orla. It means a lot.

In return, I thanked her for the gift, told her I would treasure it, and that I appreciated her coming here tonight.

We said goodnight after that and she went off to bed. I hope she has slept well. I hope she understands that I’ve forgiven her and that whatever made her want to pry through my belongings has passed. I don’t want to have to be angry with her again – I want to protect her.

THIRTY-SEVEN

‘Something to wear to a Halloween party?’ Orla smiled delightedly. ‘Sure we can find something for you. What were you thinking? Are we talking sexy witch here or giant pumpkin?’

‘Well, it’s a month away so I’ve got lots of time to decide. But I’m definitely not leaning towards giant pumpkin – Luke’s ex is going to be there,’ I told her.

‘Oh, she is? Well, in that case we’re definitely on the sexy side of witchy, aren’t we? Not too sexy, mind.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I’m guessing these are Luke’s friends you’ll be meeting? And you don’t know them.’

‘Well, no, I don’t. But…’ I was surprised. I wouldn’t have expected Orla to suggest I tone down my sexiness level – which would have reduced it to practically negative figures – just because I was going to be meeting Luke’s friends.

‘Remember Bridget Jones in the movie?’ Orla folded her arms. ‘When she turns up at the tarts and vicars party only no one else is a tart or a vicar? You don’t know them, so you don’t know how seriously they’ll be taking this Halloween lark.’

‘Oh. Yes, I see what you mean.’

‘And if you’re all got up as a sexy spider and they’re in jeans, you’d feel just a bit foolish.’

‘God – I’d be mortified.’

‘You would. So you want to aim for something that could be a Halloween costume but could also be your normal clothes.’

‘But how are they to know I don’t go to work every day dressed as a sexy spider?’

Orla laughed and I saw a glimpse of what she must have been like when she was younger – a beautiful girl, full of silliness and fun. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘You have. And I think you’re right. I could just wear a black dress and do some zombie make-up or something.’

‘A black dress?’ She looked at me, her head on one side. ‘You know, I think I might have just the thing for you.’

She glanced over her shoulder, silent for a moment as if she was listening. But she must have known – as I knew – that she and I were the only ones in the house. It was a Friday evening; Beatrice wouldn’t be back from work for at least another half hour, and Luke had gone to see his mother in Leicester for the weekend.

‘Hold on while I get my keys,’ she said.