‘I just love his family,’ Grace told Angelica. They were drinking tea sitting in the window seat by the open window. Grace was smoking.

‘Do you never feel the need for fresh air?’ Angelica complained. ‘And what about him? Forget his family, do you love him?’

Questions, always questions. Grace had questioned to death a great many relationships in the past ten years. She knew too that once there had been a love to which she knew all the answers, but she did not expect ever to find that kind again.

‘You really love that boy?’

‘I love him so.’

‘Would you like tea or coffee?’

‘I don’t mind; I love him so.’

‘So what’s your view of the US withdrawal from Vietnam?’

‘Thank God he’s safe; I love him so.’

‘Left or right?’

‘He lives just to the left of here. I love him so.’

‘And animal rights; where do you stand on the issue?’

‘Animals just adore Jefferson and he adores them; and me, I love him so.’

‘So what are your thoughts on the future of mankind?’

‘Well, his grandparents are all alive and fit although in their eighties, so if genes are anything to go by he should be around for a long time yet, and I love him so.’

‘Do you believe in God?’

‘God, I love him so.’

‘So do you love him?’ Angelica insisted.

Grace turned her face from the window. ‘Who? Oh silly me, Andrew; of course I … It’s so … soft. Andrew, his family, it’s this soft place to land and, Angelica, I need one. You know those photographs of big happy families gathered round the table or the open fire, the kind of families we wanted when we were children in our neat little nuclear pockets? Well, with him, with them, it’s like I’ve stepped into one of those photos.’ She put her hand on Angelica’s arm, a little embarrassed. ‘I’m tired, Angelica. I’m thinking, why should I be the one shouldering all the burden of living with myself? Let someone else try it for a change. And how nice it would be to know that if I died, something other than the increasingly unpleasant smell seeping out from under my front door would alert the world to my fate. The last time I was away I forgot to cancel the milk. Each day there was another bottle standing on my doorstep. By the time I got back there were nine. How many bottles would there have to be before anyone noticed or cared that I was gone?’

‘Grace, do you love him?’

‘What is all this talk of love? People didn’t go on and on about love in the old days.’

‘Remind me to write a note to John Donne about that,’ Angelica said.

‘I mean … what is love?’

‘At least you’re asking that before you’re engaged,’ Angelica said. ‘Anyway, as far as I see it, if you felt it – love – you wouldn’t have to ask. If you need to ask … well, brainy; draw your own conclusion.’

‘Do you love Tom?’

‘I know what you think about him.’ She raised her hand. ‘No, don’t protest. And yes, I do love him. I’d have to … wouldn’t I, to still be there?’ Angelica turned wide blue eyes on her. Grace held her gaze, wanting to take her friend’s hand but lighting another cigarette instead. ‘Anyway,’ Angelica said, ‘don’t change the subject. Andrew?’

‘I believe I can make him happy.’

‘Virtue does not become you.’

‘All right, so I believe we can make each other happy.’

‘Silly ass.’