“Patrick has his fine new job now, you know…”

“Really? I’m so pleased. I didn’t know.”

“Yes, he’s office manager of a haulage company,” said Maeve, “and even better, he’s to be based in Reading, so that we can all see one another very much more easily, and Mary comes up most nearly every weekend at the moment, to help and to babysit, so that Patrick and I can go out for an hour or two now and again.”

“That sounds lovely. I’m so pleased. Look, I must go, Abi’s waving at me. I’ll come back later, promise.”

“Don’t worry too much, dear. You’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“I’m going down to find the boys,” said Maeve. “They’ll be sick if they have any more rides on that thing, on top of those burgers and the candy floss. Patrick has no idea how to refuse them anything. I won’t be long, Mary.”

“No hurry,” said Mary. “I’m very happy.”

And she was. She sat, looking down into the golden evening at the little families wandering about, smiling, holding hands; at the young couples, arms around one another; at the lights of the little roundabouts and the small old-fashioned carousel turning so tirelessly; at the stage with the small figures playing on it, beside their larger selves on the screens; at the hundreds of tents, snuggled down into the grass, barbecues smoking gently; at the lovely evening-blue July sky, a few clouds drifting across it streaked with the sunset; and she felt an immense gratitude all of a sudden, and thought how blessed she had been in her life, her long, mostly uneventful life, to have loved and been loved so much and known so much happiness, in spite of the sadness that she had had to bear. One could not ask more than this, she thought: to be in a beautiful place, on a beautiful evening, surrounded even now by people she loved and who cared for her, and with a head full of memories, wonderful, charmed memories, and not one of them bitter, or angry, or ugly in any way. If her two husbands-both of whom she had loved so much and been so happy with-could be aware of her happiness now, they would be well pleased. And somehow, this evening, looking at the sky and the dusk just beginning to appear above the sunset, she felt it was very possible they were.

Laura was sitting on the sofa with Daisy, watching the evening news, when the announcer suddenly said, “And now, as some properly seasonal weather seems finally to have arrived, and with more of the same promised for days to come, we take you over to one of those great icons of summer, a music festival. A rather special festival, one created for charity, in aid of the victims of the M 4 crash late last summer, and for the hospital that cared for them. The brainchild of two of the people involved, although not hurt, in the crash, Abi Grainger and Georgia Linley-you may remember Georgia from Moving Away, the haunting Channel Four drama early this spring-they conceived it, nurtured it, and brought it to life today. It is being held, indeed, on the farm of William Grainger, on whose land the air ambulance landed that day, and who, incidentally, married Abi just three months ago. Isn’t that right, Abi?”

And there she was, Laura thought, waiting to feel all the ugly, angry things for this girl, this beautiful, sexy girl, in spite of her generosity towards her in the courtroom, this girl, smiling at the camera, laughing, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and hugging the arm of her husband and saying, “Yes, that’s right, and none of this could have happened without the generosity of William and his parents in allowing it to be held on their land.”

“I imagine it could all have been pretty alarming to someone not used to these things,” said the interviewer, a rather uneasy-looking young man, dressed for some reason all in black.

“Oh, it was pretty alarming to all of us, used to them or not. Including William’s cows. But it’s all turned out brilliantly; we’ve earned shi-huge loads of money for the charity, and any minute now one of the newest, most exciting bands in the country is going to play So… go, BroadBand, go. And anyone in the vicinity, it’s not too late; come on down and join us. Thanks. Thank you so much.”

And funnily enough, Laura didn’t feel anything ugly at all, just a wave of relief that it was all finally over, the sadness and the bitterness, and a certain admiration for the new young Mrs. Grainger, who could so successfully turn tragedy into at least some kind of triumph.

“That looks fun,” said Daisy, looking rather wistfully at the camera, which was weaving now among the crowds, the bizarrely dressed young, fairies, nuns, angels, all dancing in the semidarkness, the children dancing too in circles, in and out of the tents and the barbecues, holding hands, and, “Look, there’s a whole family dancing there, and they’ve got sparklers, see? I wish we could go to a festival, Mummy; I’d really love that.”

“We will go, darling. Together. I’d like it too.”

It was Jonathan; he had come into the room and was standing beside the sofa, one hand on Laura’s shoulder. “If Mummy would like that.”

“Mummy would like it,” said Laura, not looking at him. “Maybe not that one, but…”

“No,” he said, “not that one,” and bent and kissed the top of her head. “All right?”

“Yes, I’m all right,” said Laura. And realised that at last she was.

“You did a grand job with this, Abi.”

Abi turned; it was Jazz, Merlin’s hugely sexy friend. How they could be friends, she wasn’t sure; she couldn’t imagine two people more different, but then, people still kept saying that about her and William…

“Thank you. Yes, I’m pretty pleased. It was Georgia’s idea in the first place, you know.”

“I do know. Now, there’s a sweetheart. Too good for Merlin, I keep telling her.”

“Really?”

“Well, you know. He’s seriously in love with himself. I’m well fond of him-I’d say he’s one of my best friends-but a little of him goes a long way; know what I mean?”

“I… think so,” said Abi carefully. “But he’s awfully sweet.”

“Course he is. Just… knows it, that’s all. But he’s all right.”

“Um… is the recording OK?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, darling. Sid, me little brother, he’s keeping an eye on it. Or rather an ear. Better go and check on him, I s’pose. See you later.”

“Shit. Look at that.” It was Georgia, her small face near to tears.

“Now what?”

“Look at that. Merlin and Lila. They’ve been dancing for ages…”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so? He’s my boyfriend.”

“So?” said Abi again. “You’ve been complaining about him for weeks. And he’s only dancing with her, for God’s sake.”

“Oh, I know. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just… confused. We do squabble an awful lot these days. It’s so sad.” She sighed. “Abi, what’s wrong with me? I can’t get it together properly with anyone. Even someone as lovely as Merlin.”

“I don’t know why you want to,” said Abi. “Half the country’s in love with you.”

“Oh, don’t be so ridiculous.”

“Yes. They are. You’re famous. What you’ve always wanted. You’ve got an incredible time ahead of you; you’ll probably be in Hollywood next…”

“Oh, right…”

“You will. You know what it is with you, Georgia? You just want so much. Fame, success, all that stuff. And you’re beginning to get it. Why don’t you just settle for that for a bit? Forget about lurve. You don’t have to marry Merlin, for God’s sake; you can just enjoy him. And then… well, let ‘then’ take care of itself. I would.”

“I s’pose you’re right,” said Georgia slowly. She sighed. “I do feel I’ve come rather a long way. Since I first set eyes on Merlin, fell in love with him.”