aAnd youall have wild mushrooms and guinea fowla.

aOr ducka.

aOh yes, duck. I havenat cooked a duck for four yearsa. Max glanced at her over the menu. aWe should rectify thata.

aI cook girlsa food now,a Vivien said. aFish and salads and pasta. Rosaas on a dieta. aI hope you arenat joining hera.

aWell, I thought of ita"a aDonat,a Max said, ayou donat need to. Youarea"a He stopped and grinned. Then he said, aWhat was I going to say, Vivi?a aI have no ideaa.

aWhat did you hope Iad say?a aStop it,a Vivien said. aBut you like ita. She lifted her chin. aNot any morea.

aWeall seea.

aNo, we wonata. Max leaned forward.

He said, aActually I am going to say somethinga.

aOh?a aI was going to say it later, but I think Iall say it nowa. He put the menu down and leaned towards Vivien across the table.

aWe had a good time last week, didnat we?a aYesa"a aAnd you arenat exactly miserable nowa"a aNot exactlya.

aLook,a Max said, alook, Vivi. Things have changed, havenat they? Iave had a bit of freedom, youave had a bit of time to sort yourself out, Eliotas grown up and gonea"a He paused and looked at her. aI was just wondering, Vivi, if youad let me try again?a While she was in the shower, Ruth played Mozart. It was a recording of Don Giovanni, and she turned it up very loud, so that she could hear it above the water, and the music and the water could combine in a way that would be briefly overwhelming and stop her thinking. Her mother had once said to her, when she was about fourteen, that it didnat do to think too much, that you could think yourself out of being able to cope with ordinary life, which Ruth had then considered to be her motheras excuse for ceaseless practical activity. She now thought her motheras theory had possibly a certain truth to it, and that her motheras passion for organisation and committees and busyness had been a way of dealing with not being able to use her capacities to the full. It was a case, perhaps, of accommodating yourself to what was permitted, as long as a" crucial, this a" you didnat start raging against whoever did the permitting in the first place and why theyad got the power.

Ruth turned off the shower and stepped out into the bathroom and a wall of singing. Shead keep it that loud, she thought, until somebody from a neighbouring flat either complained or played something she hated at equal volume. She picked up a towel and wound herself into it, like a sarong, then went barefoot across the smooth, pale wood floor of her sitting room to her desk. She bent over her computer. There would be nothing in her inbox, just as there were no messages on her answerphone, no texts on her mobile. Apart from work, theread been a sudden cessation of all communication, as if someone had shut a soundproof door on a party.

There was one new message on her email. She sat down in her bath towel and clicked her mouse.

The message was from Laura.

aDear Ruth,a it said. aJust ring him!a Ruth looked up at the ceiling high above her and closed her eyes. There was a lump in her throat.

aJust ring him!a

Chapter Eleven.

aAre you sure?a Lazlo said.

Edie pushed the sugar towards him across the caf table.

aOh yesa.

aBut it would be your sonas rooma"a aOr my daughteras. Weave had lots of actors there, over the last few years, on and offa"a aReallya aOh yesa.

aWhat about,a Lazlo said, taking two packets of white sugar, ayour husband?a aHeas called Russella.

aI know,a Lazlo said. aI just felt a bit shya.

aShy?a aI donat know my own father very wella. aRussell isnat at all alarming. Russell is very used to actor lodgersa.

aHave you told him?a aWhat?a aThat,a Lazlo said, ayou were going to offer a room to mea.

Edie watched him tear the sugar packets across and pour the contents into the cushion of milky foam on the top of his coffee.

aLazlo dear, I donat need to ask hima.

aI said tella"a aI donat need to tell him either. He likes having the house full. He likes having it useda. Lazlo began to stir his coffee.

aI must say, it would be wonderful. It would make me feela"a He stopped, and then he said, aDifferenta.

aGooda.

He looked at her and then he looked away.

aI would try a" not to be a nuisancea.

aIf you were,a Edie said, aI probably wouldnat notice. My children, with the possible exception of Matthew, are usually a nuisance. If you donat have any nuisance in your life, Iave discovered, something dies in you. It all gets very bland and boringa. She leaned across the table. aWhen I was a child, I shared a bedroom with my sister, Vivien, and we fought all the time because she was very tidy and I was very messy, extra messy, probably, to annoy her, and when our mother said we could have separate rooms, I was miserable. There was no point in being messy on my owna. She looked across at Lazlo and smiled at him. aThere still isnata.

He said, aIs that the sister that Rosa lives with?a aYesa.

aAre you still fighting?a aCertainly,a Edie said.

aI never fight with my sister. I wouldnat risk it. You have to have enough family to take that kind of riska.

aGoodness,a Edie said, awhat a dramatic view of family. You sound like a Russian novel. If thatas what youare expecting, youall find us very dulla.

aI donat think soa.

She reached across the table and grasped his wrist. aWeall like having you. Reallya.

He shook his head and gave her a quick glance, and in the course of it, she saw he had tears in his eyes.

aHeavens, Lazlo,a Edie said, laughing. aHeavens, itas only a rooma.

The evening paper had two columns advertising rooms and flats to let. They varied in monthly price by several hundred pounds and also in tone of advertisement, some being baldly commercial and some more haphazard, personal offers of flat sharing. Ben was certain that Naomi, even if she could be persuaded to leave her motheras flat, would be adamant about not sharing any accommodation with anyone other than Ben. It had been an eye-opener for Ben, living with Naomi and her mother, to see the fierceness with which privacy and possessions were not just owned, but guarded. Naomias mother didnat refer to athea kettle or athea bathroom: both were amya. For Ben, growing up in a house where ownership of anything that wasnat intensely personal seemed comfortably communal, this domestic demarcation and pride had been very surprising.

aFeet off my coffee table,a Naomias mother had said to him on his first evening. aAnd the way I like my toilet seat is downa.

Ben had felt little resentment about this. Faced with a rigidly organised kitchen and a tremendous expectation of conformity, he had, rather to his surprise, felt more an awed respect. Naomias mother spoke to him in exactly the same way that she spoke to Naomi after all, and as Naomi plainly thought her motheras standards and requirements were as natural as breathing, Ben was, at least for a while, prepared to pick up his bath towel and replace the ironing board a" ironing was a bit of a revelation a" on its specially designated hooks behind the kitchen door. Only once, in his first few weeks, did he say to Naomi, watching her while she made an extremely neat cheese sandwich, aHas your mum always been like this?a Naomi didnat even glance at him.

She shook her long blonde hair back over her shoulders and said evenly, aItas how she likes ita.

Living the way you liked, even Ben could see, was what you were entitled to if you owned a house or paid the rent. Indeed, one of the reasons he had left home, besides the consuming desire to spend the nights in the same bed as Naomi, was a strong, if unarticulated, understanding that he wanted to live in a way that didnat coincide with the way his parents were living but, as it was their house, their entitlement in the matter came before his. Living with Naomias mother was, especially at the beginning, no problem at all because of Naomi herself and because her mother, for all her insistence on her own particular rule of law, was someone whose palpable industry and independence required a" and got -Benas deference. In addition, and to Benas abiding and grateful amazement, she seemed to find his presence in her flat and her daughteras bed perfectly natural. There hadnat been a syllable uttered, or even implied, that Ben could construe as an enquiry about their relationship, let alone a criticism.

All this, for some time, made Ben amenable to making his large male presence in a small female flat as invisible as possible. Indeed, it was only gradually, and not in any way triggered by a particular incident, that he began to feel a sense of being both watched and stifled. The setting down of his coffee mug or beer can, once a matter of discovery and trial and error, became insidiously more of an issue, as did the placing a" or even presence a" of his boots in the narrow hallway. Naomias mother didnat operate by correcting her daughter or her daughteras boyfriend more than once. After that, she took matters into her own hands and effected the changes she wanted, in silence, but in the kind of silence that made Ben, rather to his surprise, think wistfully of his own motheras approach to domestic management. He had absolutely no desire to confront or displease Naomias mother, but it had begun to occur to him, several times a day, that he was on a hiding to nothing because she was, in fact, constantly changing the goalposts. That morning, the hunt for his boots had ended in discovering them in a plastic carrier bag hanging on a hook under his overcoat.

Head said nothing to Naomi about moving out with him. With the newly hatched confidence of having had his older brother recently take his advice, he had decided that the best course of action was to identify some flats, or even rooms in flats, and choose one or two to show her so that she would have something to visualise and also have to make a choice. If he just said to her, aWhat about a place of our own?a shead look at him as if he wasnat in his right mind and say, aWhat for?a But if he had a key to a door, and opened it, and showed her the possibilities of a way of living that lay beyond it, she might be persuaded. Or at least, he thought, staring hard at a photograph in the window in front of him, she might hesitate a little before she said, aWhat for?a aIall have tomato juice,a Kate said. Rosa paused on her way to the bar. aAre you sure? Iam payinga"a aI only half feel like adrinka drink,a Kate said, aand I donat like the way people look at me when I drink ita.

aDo they?a aWell, I think they doa.

aRight,a Rosa said, atomato juice it isa.

aShould you be paying?a aYesa.

aCan youa"a aI got a bonus this month,a Rosa said. aSlovenia will be overflowing this summer, thanks to mea.

Kate said, smiling, aSo youare making headway on the money?a Rosa shook her hair back.

aWell, I can afford the interest on the interesta.

aRosaa"a aI can afford to buy you a tomato juicea. aI donat want youa"a aI do,a Rosa said and went away to the bar.

Kate shrugged off her jacket and pushed her shoes off, under the table. She hadnat told Barney she was meeting Rosa for a drink because, for some reason, Barney had assumed that not having Rosa in their flat meant not having Rosa in their life, either. He maintained that this was not because he didnat like Rosa, but only that he didnat think Rosa was good for Kate: too demanding, he said, too exhausting, too needy. Kate, who had declined, in the course of their lavish and traditional wedding, to promise to obey him, wondered if that was, in fact, exactly what she was doing. What was it, in an emotional relationship, that constituted a loving and generous action, and what a" only apparently differentiated by a whisker a" an act of submission instead?

Rosa came back and put two glasses on the table. Kateas tomato juice had a stick of celery planted in it and a wedge of lemon balanced on the rim. She took the celery out and laid it, dripping, across the ashtray on the table.

Then she said, licking tomato juice off her fingers, aI saw Rutha.

Rosa looked up from her drink. aWhy did you?a aIt was chance,a Kate said. aWe were both buying fruit in Borough Marketa.

aAnd?a aShe looked awful. And was sort of agitated. I think she thinks everyone disapproves of hera. aI do,a Rosa said.

Kate leaned back, adjusting her T-shirt round her belly. aDo you now?a aUh huha.

aFor hurting Matthew? Or for being very good at what she does and earning a lot of money?a Rosa eyed her.

aFor hurting Matthew, of coursea.

aReallya.

aYes, reallya.

aI donat believe you,a Kate said. aI think you canat handle her being ambitiousa. aWell, you arenat ambitiousa"a aYes, I am,a Kate said. aI didnat think about it before I got pregnant, but I think about it a lot now and I know that I donat just like my job, I want ita.

Rosa picked up her drink.

aI donat think I ama"a aMaybe not. And thatas fine. Whatas not fine is thinking badly of poor Ruth because she isa. aPoor Ruth, is it?a aYes,a Kate said, apoor Ruth. She looked to me like she misses Matthew like anythinga.

aWell, she chose to go ahead with this flata"a aAnd he chosea"a aHe had to,a Rosa said. aOh, Rosaa"a aIt was humiliation or get outa.

aBut she wasnat doing the humiliating,a Kate said. aOr do you think she should have taken a lesser job and earned less just to make him feel better? How humiliating is that?a Rosa closed her eyes.

aHeas my brothera.

aAbout whom,a Kate said, ayou are often very rude. Of course you should be sorry for him but donat load all the blame on Ruth just because sheas doing what a man would be praised for doinga. She leaned forward again and said, aWhat does your mother say?a aSheas thrilled Mattas gone homea.

aIs that all?a aWhat dayou mean?a aIs your motheras only reaction being pleased to have Matthew back again?a Rosa sighed.

aOf course not. She likes Ruth but she doesnat understand why sheas done what sheas done. It wasnat the way she did things, it was always family first with Muma.

aThatas generationala.

aKate,a Rosa said, aI thought we were going to have a quiet drink and be pleased to see each other, but all you do is want to arguea.

Kate took a swallow of tomato juice.

She said, aYou need arguing witha.

aWhy, thank youa"a aYou need jolting and galvanising. You need to use that brain of yours, you need to stop just drifting alonga"a aOh, shut up,a Rosa said.

aRose, Iam your friend, Iama"a aSorted and organised and married and interestingly employed and pregnant and insufferablea.

Kate picked up the stick of celery and jabbed it into the ashtray for emphasis.

aWhen did you last do anything decisive?a Rosa said, without looking at her, aLast weeka.

aAnd what was it, precisely?a aI helped,a Rosa said deliberately, asomeone I donat really like find somewhere to livea.

aOh?a aAn actor. In Mumas company. Heas going to rent my rooma.

aWhat?a aHeas going to rent my bedroom. Mum offered it to him. So sheas got two bedrooms full now and Dad is not happya.

Kate stared at her.

aThis is bizarrea.

aIsnat it justa.

aAnd you living with your aunta"a aYes. So donat go on at me about drifting and being hopelessa.

Kate put the celery down and reached across to grasp Rosaas hand. aSorrya.

aThatas OKa.

aItas probably hormones,a Kate said. aEverything I do at the moment seems to be hormones. I have this enormous urge to get everything sorteda.

Rosa turned her hand over to give Kateas a squeeze, and then took it away.

aI hope itas catchinga"a Kate grinned at her.

aWhatas it like, living with your aunt?a Very comfortable and very restricting. Itas so funny, sheas datinga"a aShe isnat!a aWell, itas only my uncle, who sheas separated from. She keeps skipping out on Saturday nights, all kitten heels and chandelier earringsa.

aSweet or sickening?a aOh, sweet mostly,a Rosa said. aItad only be sickening if Uncle Max was anything other than a jokea.