aSorry,a Russell said, abut youave blown ita.

aOh!a Maeve said into the intercom with pleasure. aOh, itas you! Come up!a Russell put his hand over the mouthpiece of his telephone. His heart had lifted a little.

aWho, Maeve? Edie?a Maeveas face appeared briefly round the door. aNo,a she mouthed, aRosaa. Russell took his hand away.

aGo away and think about it, Greg. Go away and think about how you are going to live until you are noticed by Anthony Minghella. Then we might have another conversationa. He took the telephone away from his ear, listened for a few more seconds to Gregoryas aggrieved voice, and replaced it softly on his desk.

There were footsteps running up the last flight of stairs.

He heard Maeve open the door.

aWell, thereas a cheerful sight. What a wonderful colour, nobody but youa"a aNobody but me,a Rosa said. aAnybody else would have had more sense and bought blacka.

aIam sick to death of black,a Maeve said. aLeave it to the beetles, I saya"a Rosa appeared in the doorway of Russellas office.

aDad?a He got up and leaned across the desk to kiss her.

aLovely surprisea"a aWell,a she said, apassinga"a aAt lunchtimea.

aWell a Actually Iam not hungrya.

aEven,a Russell said, aif Iam paying?a She glanced down. Her shoulders drooped a little. Then she straightened up, shook her hair back and gave him a familiarly full-on smile.

aThat would be great. Because a" well, because thereas something Iad like to ask youa.

Russell looked at her over his reading spectacles.

aIs there?a aYes,a she said. aPleasea. And then she smiled again, aDaddya.

Rosa looked at her fatheras plate. Hers was empty, but his still bore a good half of his order of gnocchi.

She raised her fork, questioningly.

aCan I?a Russell gave his plate a little nudge. aHelp yourselfa.

Rosa speared two gnocchi and put them in her mouth.

Then she said, round them, aI mean, Iam not worried about finding another job. And Iam not at all concerned by what Bill Moreton thinks of me. I know I was doing a good job. I know ita.

aHmm,a Russell said. He had ordered a bottle of wine and was now wondering if Rosaas share was giving her a fleeting and unreliable confidence.

aIt wasnat as if I was earning a fortune there anyway,a Rosa said, spearing more gnocchi. aLots of my friends are earning well over twenty by nowa.

aHave you ever worked out,a Russell said, awhat you need to earn?a Rosa stopped chewing. She gave him a quick, direct look and dropped her gaze.

aNoa.

aDonat you thinka"a aDid you?a Rosa demanded. aDid you? At my age?a aI was marrieda"a aSo?a aTwo incomesa"a aAnd a babya. Rosa gave a little snort. aIad love a babya.

Russell picked his plate up and exchanged it for Rosaas empty one. Rosa looked down. aI couldnat eat all thata"a aRosa,a Russell said, aIave listened to you. Iave listened to you very patiently and I quite agree with you that Bill Moreton was a second-rate boss who behaved accordingly. But youad been in that job eight months. He didnat exactly owe you a pension and a gold watcha.

Rosa said nothing. It seemed to her that she was behaving exactly as she always vowed she would never behave again when with a parent. She could hear in her voice an undertone of whining and cajoling that reminded her of raging nights, when she was seven, or nine, or eleven, and had prayed fervently to be an orphan. She swallowed hard, against the plaintiveness.

aItas a very nasty thing to have done to you,a Russell said, visualising Edie listening to him, aespecially when it so plainly wasnat justified and you were made a scapegoat. But it was just a job, wasnat it? Not a vocation. Not even a careera.

Rosa pushed her fatheras plate aside.

aIt isnat thata.

Russell sighed.

aNoa.

aYou see,a Rosa said, aIam in debta.

aAha.

aI owe nearly six thousand on my credit cardsa.

Russell leaned back. It occurred to him to ask how the situation had arisen, but then it struck him forcibly that he did not, somehow, want to become involved in the reasons because that would mean reaction and, even, responsibility. He loved Rosa. He loved her dearly, but she was twenty-six.

He said, as gently as he could, aThat will take a while to pay backa.

She nodded.

aHave you thought of that?a Russell said. aHave you made any plans?a She said, in a small voice, aIam beginning toa.

aEconomies,a Russell said. He picked up his wine glass and put it down again. aMy mother loved economies. If she could make one haddock fillet feed four she was triumphant. She thrived on economiesa.

Rosa said sadly, aThen I donat take after hera.

aFrugality was rather encouraged in the fifties,a Russell said. aPost-war and all that. Now, it just looks as if you are crabbed of spirit and letting life pass you bya.

Rosa leaned forward.

aI think it was trying not to let it pass me by that got me into this messa.

aJosh,a Russell said, without meaning to.

aOh, Dada"a aNo,a he said, hastily. aNo. I shouldnat have mentioned him. We must focus on what is rather than what wasa. She gave a faint smile. aI knew youad helpa"a aIt dependsa"a aOn what?a aOn what form you see that help takinga. Rosa said quickly, aIam not asking for moneya.

Russell gave a little sigh.

aI donat want money,a Rosa said, aI want to straighten myself out. I want to find another job and work hard and meet new people and make a plan and change the way I do thingsa.

aMmma.

aDonat you think thatas right? Donat you think I sound like youad like me to sound?a aOh I doa"a aWell, then?a aIam just waiting,a Russell said. aPatiently, fondly even, but wearily and warily, to see what it is you are working up to saya.

Rosa fiddled a bit with the cutlery left on the table. aIam not very proud of myselfa.

aNoa.

aI hate having to ask thisa"a aYesa.

aBut can I come home?a Russell closed his eyes for a fleeting second.

aI know itas not what you want,a Rosa said. aI donat want it either, really, if you see what I mean, but it wouldnat be for long, probably only a few months, but if Iam not paying rent, the rent money can go towards the credit-card debt, and it would make such a difference, it would make all the differencea"a She stopped. Then she said, much more slowly, aPlease, Dada.

Russell looked at her.

He said sadly, aIam so sorry, darling, but noa. She stared at him.

aNo!a aI want to help you,a Russell said. aI will help you. But you canat come back home to livea.

Rosa said, stunned, aBut itas my home!a aWell, yes, in a way. It was your childhood home, your growing-up home. But youare grown-up now. You need your own homea.

aOf course!a Rosa cried. aIn an ideal world, thatas exactly what Iad have by now! But I canat, can I? I canat have what I ought to have because of whatas happened!a She glared at him. aI cannot believe you said noa.

Russell sighed.

aIt isnat about you. Itas about us, Mum and me. Itas -well, itas our homea. aYour family homea. aYes, when children are dependenta"a aBen was allowed to stay, Ben was alwaysa"a aBen has gone,a Russell said. aSo thereas room for mea.

aRosa,a Russell said with sudden force, aitas not about room, itas about distraction. Itas about Mum and me having time to be married again, itas about us, having time and space for thata.

aWhat?a aYou heard mea.

aBut,a Rosa said, gesturing wildly, aIam not going to stop you! Iam not going to get in the way of your a" rediscovering each other, if thatas what you wanta"a Russell said carefully, aYou may not mean toa.

There was a pause.

Then Rosa said, in a quite different voice, aI seea.

aGooda.

aI see that you donat want Mumas attention diverted from you for one little single, baby instanta.

aNoa"a Rosa stood up clumsily, shaking the table. aFool yourself if you like, Dad,a she said, abut donat try fooling mea.

aRosa. Rosa, I really would like to help you, I really wanta"a aDonat bother,a Rosa said. She gathered up her bag and scarf and telephone. aJust forget I said anything. Just forget I even askeda. She twitched her bag on to her shoulder and glared at him again. aLuckily for me, I have friends who carea.

Chapter Three.

Edie watched the cat make a nest for himself in a basket of clean laundry. It wasnat ironed a" Edie had never been able to see ironing as other than faintly neurotic -but it was clean, or had been. The cat had dug about in the basket, tossing small items contemptuously aside, and rearranged pillowcases and shirts until there was a deep well in the centre, with comfortable, cushioned edges to rest his chin upon. Then he sank down fluidly into it and closed his eyes.

aArsieas missing you,a Edie said to Ben on the telephone.

Yeah,a he said, apoor old Arse. But I canat have him herea.

aNo, I wasnat suggesting thata.

aNaomias mum has allergiesa.

aDoes she?a aAnd our room is only about big enough for the beda. aIt doesnat,a Edie said lightly, asound very comfortablea"a aItas ace,a Ben said. aItas fine. Brilliant. Look, Iave got to goa.

aWhy donat you come to supper one night?a aWella"a aBring Naomi, of course. And her mother, if youad like toa"a aMum,a Ben said, aIam latea. aJust suppera.

aGoing!a Ben called. Head taken the phone from his ear. aGoing. Take care, Mum. Gone!a Edie stepped over the washing basket and began to sift restlessly through papers on the kitchen table. Russell had produced catalogues in an uncharacteristic manner, catalogues about garden furniture and modern lighting and city-weekend breaks in Europe. Head also brought flowers, a bunch of anemones that drank a jug of water a day, and a novel that had won a literary prize, and a bottle of oil to put in her bath scented with something shead never heard of called neroli. It was touching, all this, Edie thought, shuffling items about, but it was also mildly irritating. As conduct, it reminded her of a dog her sister, Vivien, had once had, a small spaniel-ish dog, which always wanted to sit on your knee and gaze into your face with an intensity that required you to give something in return. Not only did Edie not want, particularly, to be given flowers and bath oil and weekends in Ghent, but she also, most particularly, did not want the accompanying obligation.

aIt isnat very grateful of you,a Vivi said, on the telephone.

aIad be able to be grateful,a Edie said, aif there werenat strings attached. But I canat go from longing for Ben to be back to playing being just married all over again in a single seamless movementa.

aPoor Russella"a aPoor?a aPerhaps heas been waiting, all these years, to be other than on the edge of your peripheral visiona.

aHe liked family life, you know. He liked the children. He adores Rosaa.

aMen love women,a Vivi said. aWomen love children. Children love hamstersa.

aOh, I know. I knowa.

aYou just donat know how lucky you area. aDonat starta"a aI have to remind you sometimesa. Edie leaned against the wall. aRosaas lost her joba. aNo! Poor girla"a aShe sounded completely matter of fact. Wouldnat let me sympathise, really. I said come back homea"a aI bet you dida"a aAnd she said no, no, she was fine, shead got friends who were helpinga. Edie paused, and then she said, aI do find that hard. Friends, not familya.

aFriends are the new familya.

aSometimes I wonder why I bother to turn to you for consolationa.

aI know,a Vivi said. aI wonat do drama, will I? I wonat do it because, compared to mine, your life isnat drama. Speaking of whicha"a aYes?a aWhat about drama? What about work?a Edie sighed.

aNothing much. I must be turned down twenty times for every part I get. Thereas a casting for an Ibsen next weeka"a aYes?a aMrs Alving. In Ghosts. I wonat get ita. aEdie. Why not?a aBecause I wonat. Because I canat feel about it at the moment. Because Iam all jangled up and rawa"a aAnd cross with Russell for being romantica.

aYesa.

aEdie,a Vivi said, aIall ring you again when you have the manners, never mind the empathy, to remember to ask me a single question about mea.

Edie sat down at the kitchen table now and made space for her elbows among the papers. It was not like her, she told herself, to be so hopeless, to feel herself drifting, to be miserable and a" Benas favourite word when he was small a" grumpy. Head say stressy, now, Edie thought, if he was still seven, and Rosa was eleven and Matt was thirteen, and there were still school mornings, with their inevitable chaos of uneaten things and forgotten things and unbrushed things. Shead imagined those times were timeless somehow, that either they would never end, or that she would change, gradually and peacefully, as they changed, so that she would be ready for the difference, ready to face a new chapter, ready, even, to confront herself.

She brought her hands up to her face and held it. That was the problem, really, that was the element that was proving so difficult, this business of knowing how to arrange oneself. For years, almost thirty of them, she had known what she was for, what she was supposed to do. Sure, shead been passionate about the theatre at school a" still couldnat, with complete equanimity, replay those scenes with her parents in which she had insisted on applying for drama school rather than university -passionate enough to appear unmoved at being turned down by the National Youth Theatre, and to persist until she gained a place at RADA. But, if she was honest, it had all been a bit sketchy since: stints in regional repertory companies, stand-in presenter on childrenas television, advertisements, short runs in strange plays in tiny theatres. Nothing a" nothing to boast about exactly.

aIam a jobbing actress,a shead said for years, holding a child, carrying groceries, clutching dirty bedlinen. aIam up for anything. As long as itall fit round the childrena.