aYes, you can. Even the prospect of being a daughter-in-law for forty-eight hours is better than trying to pretend that having Rosa in the flat isnat like trying to manoeuvre round an agitated double bed all the timea.

Kate said nothing.

aYou were in her room,a said Barney, pulling the car out into the street, auntil one oaclock this morninga.

aShe was miserablea"a aAnd then you canat sleep so youare miserable and then Iam miserablea. Kate beat lightly on her thighs with her fists. aBarney, we have had this conversationa. aBut then nothing happensa. aIt does. Sheas got a joba. aTempinga.

aItas a job. Sheas going to give us some renta. aHow much?a aDonat be so completely vilea.

Barney waited until he had negotiated a small roundabout, and then he said, aOK. That was out of order. Sorry. But we wouldnat be having this conversation, and I wouldnat be saying things like that, if it wasnat for Rosaa.

aI knowa.

aThe thing is, she doesnat know how not to be a huge presence. Sheas somehow all over the flat even when sheas in her room with the door shuta.

aBarney,a Kate said, looking straight ahead, athere are two weeks to goa.

aAnd then?a Kate said nothing.

Barney took a hand off the steering wheel and put it on one of Kateas.

He said, more gently, aAnd then?a aI donat knowa. aPromise me somethinga.

aOha"a aPromise me you wonat ask her to stay longera.

Kate said, aIall trya"a aNoa.

aBarneya"a aIf you do,a Barney said, aIall un-ask her. Not for my sake particularly but for yours. And oursa.

Kate put her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

aI just feel weave got so mucha"a aLook,a Barney said. aLook. Whatever weave got weave made ourselves. We havenat taken something of Rosaasa. Kate began, very quietly, to cry. Barney glanced at her.

aOh darlinga"a aItas nothinga"a He pulled the car quickly into the side of the road and put his arms clumsily round her.

aOh darling, donat cry, Iam so sorry, donat cry. Oh Katea"a aItas not you,a Kate said unsteadily. aItas me. And probably this babya.

Barney loosened his arms and slid down until his cheek and ear were resting against Kateas stomach.

aThis babya.

Kate sniffed. She looked down, at Barneyas head in her lap, at his hair, his hand on her thigh.

She said, aItas OK. Iall tell her. If she doesnat know alreadya"a aSheas not a foola"a aNo,a Kate said. She blotted her eyes on her sleeve. aNo, sheas not. Thatas part of the troublea.

Cleaning, Rosa thought, hunting for rubber gloves under Kateas sink, wasnat something she had exactly been brought up to do. Edie had been very strict about helping, had made sure that everyone a" with the frequent exception of Ben a" realised that the task of keeping a house going was a communal responsibility and that, just because she was the mother, it didnat automatically follow that she was also unpaid room service. But Edie was not the kind of woman for whom crushed cushions and unscaled kettles represented the first signs of domestic anarchy; washing the kitchen floor was never, for her, going to take priority over helping Matthew make a model or dancing with Rosa in front of the landing mirror. It was only staying over in schoolfriendsa houses that had revealed to Rosa that people a" some people a" bought vacuum cleaners for their efficiency and not solely because they had a jolly little face painted on the cylinder. Nothing she saw, no amount of gleaming bathrooms, made her feel Edieas attitude was wrong, but she did begin to see that the relief to be found in the small satisfactions of cleaning was very real and weirdly reliable. It was, in the end, living with Josh that had driven her to find the solid, if unglamorous, consolations of exercising control where you still could, in creating domestic order.

It was her intention, that Saturday, to create exactly that order in Kate and Barneyas flat. It was partly that she might find personal solace in burnishing surfaces and straightening rugs, but also because she might gain a form of unspoken forgiveness from Barney, in particular, and even a" this was a long shot but desperate situations required desperate measures a" prepare the way to asking if her month in the flat might be extended into two. She was keenly aware that she had not behaved well in the past fortnight, that she had conducted herself with the sort of sulky resentment associated with disaffected fourteen-year-olds, and that it looked to Kate as if she was motivated by no more than the most primitive and unattractive of envies.

If she was honest, she thought, spraying cleaning fluid lavishly across the kitchen surfaces, she was envious of Kate. Not envious of Kate having Barney, but envious of Kate and Barney wanting to be together, and having the unspeakable luxury of a future to look forward to. At the same time, however, she knew that this kind of envy was a bitter, destructive thing, as well as a disgrace in any commendable personality. And even, Rosa thought, scrubbing at a stain, if my personality is not commendable, and certainly hasnat been recently, I would like it to be; I would like it, really, to be in charge of itself.

She straightened up. A pleasing sort of calm was beginning to overtake the kitchen. She thought of extending her efforts to the contents of the cupboards and then it occurred to her that to move so much as a box of lentils could be construed as criticism, which was, in her present shaky state, the last thing she wanted to convey. She wanted, rather, to make the flat look, by the time Barney and Kate returned, like a humble but unmistakable token of gratitude. She wanted, she acknowledged with difficulty, to appear sorry without actually having to say so.

From the sitting room, her mobile rang. Rosa went slowly to answer it, pulling off the rubber gloves and saying to herself, under her breath, as she seemed to have been saying for years every time the phone rang, aMake it a surprise, make it something nice, make ita"a aDarling?a Edie said.

aMum, hia"a aAre you all right? What are you doing?a aActually,a Rosa said, acleaninga. aCleaning? Why?a aI want to. I like it. Itas Saturday morning. Cleaning timea.

aNot in this house,a Edie said. aI remembera.

aRosa, whatas happening?a aHappening?a aYes. We havenat spoken for weeksa"a aFive daysa.

aI want to know if youare OKa. Rosa stood a little taller.

aI ama.

aAre you?a aYes, Mum. Thank youa. aHave you found a job?a aYesa.

aWhata"a aNot a good job. But a job. In a travel agencya.

aRosaa"a aDonat starta.

aYouare so bright and beautiful,a Edie said, aI donat want you wasting yourselfa.

aNor do Ia. aDarlinga"a aMum,a Rosa said, interrupting. aWhatas going on with you?a aOh, thata.

aYes, that. I can tell thereas somethinga. aWell,a Edie said, aI got the parta. aMum! The Ibsen?a aYes. Isnat it odd?a aOdd?a aYes. To get a part you donat want when you werenat tryinga.

aYou do want ita.

aMaybea.

aI think itas wonderful,a Rosa said. Her throat hurt, as if she were about to cry. aCongratulations. Itas brillianta.

aWeall see,a Edie said. aRead-through on Tuesday. I get to meet my stage son. Have you heard from Matthew?a aNoa"a aWhat about this flat he and Ruth are buying?a Rosa put her hand to her throat. aIt sounds all very hip young professionala"a aDarling, I wisha"a aI donat want an urban loft, Mum. Or a job in the Citya. aHave you spoken to Ben?a aI havenat spoken to anyonea. aRose, are you all right?a Rosa shut her eyes. She mouthed, aDonat keep askinga at the ceiling. Then she said loudly, aFinea. aIf youare not OKa"a aI am. Ring me and tell me how Tuesday goesa.

aOh,a Edie said, aOKa.

aHow is Dad?a aIn his sheda. aYouare jokinga.

aWould I?a aGive him my love,a Rosa said.

aDarlinga"a aBack to Mr Sheen!a Rosa called. She held the phone away from her ear.

Edieas voice came faintly from it, thin and small.

aBye, Mum!a She went slowly into the kitchen, and leaned against the sink. Edie in her kitchen, herself in Kateas, Matt and Ruth no doubt buying Alessi-inspired kettles for theirs, Ben and Naomi blissfully not giving kitchens a thought. She sighed. She had not given her mother what she wanted, on the telephone. She knew that she hadnat given it because she couldnat, for all the tired old reasons of loyalty and disloyalty that bedevil family life, the kind of reasons that made her mother and her motheras sister ring each other and bitch about each other daily in equal measure. She leaned against the sink and folded her arms. It struck her, with a small ray of dawning hopefulness, that this thought of her aunt coming into her head might not be totally arbitrary and that, beyond fathers and mothers in the leaky support system provided by families, there could sometimes also be aunts. Rosa stood straighter and laid the rubber gloves down on the now gleaming draining board. Then she went thoughtfully back towards the sitting room, and her mobile phone.

aIam playing Osvald,a the young man said. Edie smiled at him. aI guesseda.

He gave a small snort of laughter.

aNot difficult, with a cast of fivea"a He had fine features and the slight build Edie had always somehow associated with First World War poets.

He said, aWell, weare the same colouring, anyway. Mother and sona.

She gave him an appraising glance.

aI expect you got your height from your fathera"a He grinned.

aAmong other thingsa.

aI know,a Edie said. aWhat a playa.

aNot much light reliefa"a aThat means rehearsals will be hilarious. They always are, if the play is darka. The young man said, aMy nameas Lazloa. aI know. Very exotica. aMy sisteras called Ottoliea. aIs she an actor?a Lazlo shook his head.

aSheas almost a doctora. He made a little gesture. aIave never played Ibsen beforea.

aNor me. Not reallya.

aI didnat think I had a hopea"a aNor mea.

aIt was an awful castinga"a aHorriblea.

He smiled at her.

aBut here we are, Mamaa.

aI think,a Edie said, smiling back, ayou call me Mother dear. At least, in this versiona. He bowed a little. aMother deara.

She looked across the room. A dark girl with her curls tied on top of her head with an orange scarf was standing in an extravagant danceras pose, feet and hips sharply angled, talking to the director.

aWhat do you think of Regina?a He turned his head.

aScarya.

aYou get to kiss hera. aDouble scarya.

aIn two weeksa time,a Edie said, ayou wonat be thinking that for an instanta.

He said, almost eagerly, aIave only been out of drama school a year, you seea"a She looked at him, full in the face. Then she smiled and took his hand.

aHow absolutely lovely,a Edie said.

Barney had insisted that Kate take a taxi to work. It was her first Monday morning, after all, after feeling too terrible to leave the flat for three weeks, and he was taking no chances. He had booked the cab himself, and left a twenty-pound note weighted with an orange on the kitchen table, to pay for it. aJust this once,a Kate said.

She had looked at the note and wished that he hadnat left it. Solicitousness was all very well but the imposition of will implied by paying for something was rather different. She was extremely grateful for the thought, but not at all grateful for the money. She was still earning, after all: she would pay for her own taxi. She had picked up the orange and replaced it in the fruit bowl, and then wedged the money against it like a flag.

Sitting in the taxi, Kate felt an unmistakable rush of relief, relief at not wishing to die with such vehemence, relief at being out of the flat, relief at the prospect of the a" compared to home a" impersonality of work. Work was full of complications, and intractable people, but as she didnat love them she didnat have to take responsibility for them. Nor did she have to thank them, fervently, every time they did something properly that they were paid to do properly in the first place.

It was lovely of Rosa to have made such an effort in the flat. They had returned from a weekend in Dorset with Barneyas parents a" too much food, Kate thought, too much kindness, too many cushions and anxious questions a" to find the flat smelling strongly of bleach, and every room wearing a startled aspect, as if a violent upheaval had taken place without having, exactly, come to a settled conclusion afterwards. Rosa could start things and carry them energetically part of the way forward, but finishing them, calming them, tidying up tedious, final details was something she was unable to achieve because she couldnat see that it was necessary. Her essays at university had been like that, Kate remembered, full of initial energy and enterprise and then simply stopping, some way from the end, as if a fuel supply had been cut off. Barney had looked at the sitting room.

aItas like someone left the window open, and a hurricane blew througha.

Kate had been very grateful a" most grateful in fact -for Rosaas not being there when they got back. Shead left a jug of pale supermarket tulips, all curved and clamped together, on the kitchen table and a note saying shead gone away for the night. Kate, feeling treacherous, had opened Rosaas bedroom door and looked inside. The bed was made, roughly speaking, and the floor was clear because all Rosaas clothes had been mounded up in one corner, and covered, with its arms outstretched in a sort of bizarre embrace, by her orange tweed jacket. Kate swallowed. There was a mug and a glass on the upended wine carton Rosa was using as a bedside table. Kate resisted the urge to go and pick them up and closed the door again.

It was easier, the next morning, and with the unquestioned freedom of a working day ahead, to feel a simpler reaction to Rosaas efforts. Losing a job, Kate reflected, was in some ways similar to the end of a relationship, even if it was a job you hadnat exactly valued in the first place. When you were faced with rejection, in whatever situation and however deserved or undeserved, it wasnat just your confidence that suffered, it was your faith in the future, your ability to see that any effort you might make could be a tiny investment in what would happen to you thereafter. I have to remember that, Kate thought, I have to remember how pointless daily life seems when you canat see where youare going. I have to remember what it must feel like when there isnat even any wreckage to cling to.

The taxi drew into the kerb. Across a broad stretch of pavement rose the eccentric glass-and-steel faade of the broadcasting company where Kate had worked as a researcher for three interesting and purposeful years. It was the sort of job she had hoped for, all the time she was at university, all the time after university when she couldnat find what she wanted, couldnat seem to settle. It was, in fact, the sort of job Rosa should have had too.

Kate leaned forward and pushed a note through the glass screen in the taxi. How astonishing it was, how pleasurable, to be going back to work. She got out of the cab and stood for a moment on the pavement, her face tilted towards the sky. Married, she said to herself, pregnant, working. Go, girl.

In the coffee shop after the read-through, Lazlo said he was starving.

aI was so nervousa"a aIt didnat showa.

aI kept thinking, this isnat how Iam going to play it, this is wrong. I made him far more petulant than I want him to be. I donat want to sound so sorry for myself. Would you like a bagel?a aIall get you a bagel,a Edie said.

aNo, really, I asked you to have a coffee with mea.

aAnd I am your mother,a Edie said. aDonat forget thata.

He regarded her. He said soberly, aI thought you were wonderfula.

Edieas chin went up a little.

aNot really. Donat forget Iave been doing this since you were in your prama. aI donat think soa.

She took her wallet out of her bag.

aHow old are you?a aTwenty-foura.

She looked satisfied.

aIave been doing this since you were in your pram.

What kind of bagel?a aToasted, please. Would two bagels be out of the question?a aCertainly not. And cream cheese?a aHow did you know?a aMother stuff,a Edie said.

She threaded her way between the small metal tables to the counter. Behind it, a huge mirror reflected the room and she could see that Lazlo was watching her and that he looked as her children had looked after school examinations in subjects they were good at, exhilarated and exhausted. He was going, she thought, to be a good Osvald, just the right blend of intensity and youthful spirit, frightened enough to arouse sympathy, self-absorbed enough to be maddening. As for her a" well, there was a lot to think about in Mrs Alving and most of it about lies. Watching Lazlo in the glass made her consider how rich it was going to be making those lies form the central core of violent maternal protectiveness in the way she played Mrs Alving. She could see, from where she was, how hungry Lazlo was. She could see he was watching her in admiration, certainly, but also he was watching because she would be returning to him with a tray of coffee and bagels, and something in the simplicity of that, the neediness of that, made her heart rejoice.

She went back to their table and put the tray down. aCan I ask you something?a Lazlo said.

aYesa.

aI want you to be honesta"a aOh, I am excellent at that,a Edie said, unloading the tray, putting the bagels down in front of him. aI have a diploma in honest. Ask my familya.

He picked up a knife.