Page 101 of The Way We Are Now

‘Mum, when do I have time for dating, hot or otherwise?’

‘I bet you’re on that there Tinsel like a good ’un.’

‘Tinder, Mum. And no, can you imagine any man swiping left or right – or whichever way you swipe – on the Secretary of State for Justice?’

‘Well, you look pretty dolled up for a bit of shopping in M&S.’

‘I’m off. Won’t be long.’

Wandsworth to Holland Park is only a twenty-minute drive but as I hit the Christmas shopping traffic on Wandsworth Bridge, I wish I’d taken the Tube. Mind you, the close protection I’ve lately been assigned has advised against using public transport. I miss it. I often feel I’m being watched, even followed, and that’s one aspect of the new job I really can do without.

I’m feeling sick with nerves and at a red light I scrabble in my bag for chewing gum and, as I wait, practise the deep-breathing I remember from my yoga classes – something else, now I’m more in the public eye, I’ve had to forego. Maybe I’ll have to consider private sessions.

It’s almost 1.15 by the time I reach Holland Park Avenue and navigate to the house. Making films must make money, I think, seeing the front door newly painted in British Racing Green, the woodwork of the many windows gleaming white. Such a handsome house; a house so full of memories and love.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I exit the car and walk up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting.

‘Anna.’ Theo opens the door almost immediately, standing while gazing down at me from the hallway. We face each other, our eyes locked for what seems an eternity until Theo breaks the spell. ‘Come on in. How are you?’

It’s been ten years since I last saw him. He still has a full head of hair and, being fair, it hasn’t turned to that iron grey I know, at some stage mine, being dark, will become. But I know this, having seen photographs of him in Tatler and in the Yorkshire Post magazine. Tracy, Les’s wife, still up in Rothersley, posts the latter on to me.

‘You look well.’

‘Thank you,’ I say, taking off my hat. ‘I am. How did you know my email address?’

‘It’s the same as you’ve always had. Your personal one, I mean. I took a gamble that you’d still have it. If you’d changed it, I’d have had to somehow contact you through your office. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way. How are you finding it?’

‘Nerve-racking. Exciting. Imposter syndrome. You name it, I’ve been through every damned emotion.’

‘Tea?’

‘Lovely. Thank you.’ I follow him into the kitchen and it’s really quite different, certainly from forty years ago, but also from twenty. ‘Ah, you’ve an Aga? I always said this kitchen needed one.’

‘You did say that. It’s why I had one put in.’

I smile. ‘Surely not?’

‘Of course.’

We say nothing further until he’s made tea. There’s one of those Quooker taps and the whole thing takes no more than a few minutes.

‘Let’s go into the sitting room.’

‘OK,’ I say, taking off my coat and sitting down on the Chesterfield. ‘What is it, Theo?’

Theo looks at me, places the mug that he’s brought to his lips but not touched back down onto the exquisite little Chippendale table in front of him. ‘Did you know Noah and Immi are seeing each other?’

‘Sorry?’ My pulse races and for a moment I can’t breathe. And then I manage a few deep inhalations and say, ‘What do you mean, seeing each other?’

‘What do you think I mean, Anna? According to Immi, she’s fallen in love with Noah.’

I bring a hand up to my mouth, find that it’s shaking.

‘She’d have confided in me at some stage of her being home – she’s a lot closer to me and Angus than she is to either Miles or her mother – but she’d only been back an hour or two, we were having dinner, and Miles teased her about her seeing rather a lot of the son of the new Secretary of State for Justice. She didn’t appear to know that Noah was your son.’

‘Well, to be honest, Noah rarely tells people that both his father and I are in government. Finds it all a bit embarrassing, I think. And again, I’ve only been in the role a couple of weeks.’

Theo nods and then pulls a hand through his still thick hair. ‘Anna, they could be brother and sister.’