‘I hope you’ve had a wonderful day.’ Karin pulled the chair closer to the table and accepted the menu.

‘It’s been a busy day like any other.’

‘But now you’ve a chance to relax with your son. Family is everything, don’t you agree? But of course you do. Your party was founded on that core principle. I’ve always admired your staunchness, Mrs Saunders.’

‘Call me Eleanor, my dear. No sense standing on formalities. I’ve ordered Dover sole on the bone. It’s always delicious here. I recommend it.’

‘Then that’s exactly what I’ll have.’

‘How do you know Nadine?’

‘We were best friends in school. Quite inseparable, actually. But we lost touch over the years. You know the way it is. I was focused on my studies and Nadine…’ She glanced down at the menu. ‘Nadine was lucky enough to meet Jake.’

‘Indeed.’

‘I’m sorry you’ve had a difficult time with your party colleagues,’ Karin said when their food was served.

‘Are you interested in politics?’ Eleanor filleted the sole from the bone with a few deft flicks of her knife.

‘I can’t pretend to be an expert but I do understand the politics of control and leadership.’ Karin attended to her sole with the same precision. ‘I don’t believe the younger members like Lorna Mason will ever have the strength of character necessary to lead a party like First Affiliations. You are the party, Eleanor.’

Jake watched the yachts gliding towards the marina and remained on the sidelines of their conversation. He had never seen his mother engage with Nadine in that way, as if everything Karin said was stimulating, important.

‘My treat.’ When the meal ended Eleanor whisked out her credit card before Jake could protest. ‘It’s been a most enjoyable night. I’d like to see some samples of your work, Karin. We’re considering updating the image of First Affiliation. Do you have contact details?’

‘Of course.’ Karin removed a card from her wallet and handed it to her. ‘Perhaps we can meet some time and discuss this in more detail so that I can fully understand the aspirations of your party.’

‘An excellent idea. I’ll be in touch, my dear.’

‘I look forward to meeting you again.’ She stood up and kissed Eleanor on both cheeks before holding out her hand to Jake. ‘Remember me to Nadine.’

Her audacity astonished him but he was forced to admire her tactics. Unlike Nadine, and, indeed, himself, she knew the exact approach that would charm his mother.

‘What an interesting woman.’ Eleanor picked up the business card and stared at the kingfisher’s vivid plumage. ‘And so knowledgeable about politics. I’m looking forward to seeing her work.’

After he had dropped Eleanor off at her bungalow he drove to Karin’s apartment. He used the key she had given him and entered her bedroom. She was awake and waiting for him. Her certainty that he would come directly to her from Louisa’s Loft increased his annoyance. He ignored the folded back duvet and sat down on the edge of the bed.

‘Just what did you think you were doing?’ he asked.

‘Establishing my place in your life,’ she replied without hesitation. She lay back against the pillows and stared at him through narrowed eyelids. ‘You’re forty-three years old. Isn’t it time you stopped being afraid of your mother?’

‘I’m not afraid… I wanted to talk to her first, prepare her.’

‘It’s done now. Eleanor likes me, as I knew she would. She hasn’t got around to admitting it yet but she’s accepted the fact that you and Nadine are finished. This way, she’ll believe she instigated our relationship.’

‘You’re quite the little schemer.’

‘I’m a pragmatist, like Eleanor. What’s really bothering you? Are you still hoping Nadine will come back to you? She’s gone, Jake. But you’re here with me… in my bedroom. If that means nothing to you then I suggest you leave right now and close the door behind you.’

Perfume rose from the hollow in her throat, from the bend of her arms as she stretched them above her head. She enjoyed playing games, leading him on then resisting him until she saw something in his face, he never knew what brought about the instant of surrender, the moment he sank into the dark mystery of her desire, so violent and, at other times, so passive and teasing it was like making love to a different woman.

Chapter 34

Nadine

Stuart lied to me, lured me to Alaska on the pretence that he was a man on a reprieve. Instead, he was on borrowed time and had known that the span of life left to him could be measured in months. Pretence had no longer been possible when we returned to Juneau. Daveth drove us to the hospital where Stuart received a blood transfusion and underwent a series of scans.

‘Sinister,’ he told me when he was discharged from hospital and we’d settled into the lodge he has rented. ‘That’s what my oncologist in London called my cancer. I kept imagining it sliding through a dark street in a hoodie. So, I decided to outrun it.’ He paused. ‘Will you stay with me?’ he asked. ‘I need someone who won’t look away in disgust if things get…’ He hesitated, searching for the right words. ‘Hard to manage.’

‘You’d need a nurse… hospitalisation.’

‘In time, maybe. But that won’t be necessary until the end. This is my last photographic assignment. I’ve spoken to my agent. I always hated the thought of a posthumous exhibition but that’s what it will be. I’ve made peace with my death, Nadine. I know my work will be in safe hands.’ He smiled, forced me to smile back, which I did to hide my terror.

How does the mind process that kind of information? Probably in stages, in mood swings that veer from wildly optimistic to the darker reaches. Which is better? The slow acceptance of one’s death or the instant realisation that it’s all over, as Sara must have understood in that instant of collision. No time for terror or regret. No time to put her house in order. I dislike that euphemism, as if the approach of death requires a particularly strenuous bout of spring cleaning.

Stuart’s apartment on Canary Wharf is sold and he plans to end his days here. I listen as he tells me what must be done when I return to London with his photographic equipment and photographs, the framer and gallery owners I must contact.

I drive a jeep and learn to negotiate the roads around the lake. Stuart has worked out an itinerary of things we must do, places we must visit. Daveth has returned to sea and the photographs on his blog are of different voyagers leaning over the side of Eyebright to stare goggle-eyed at whales and calving icebergs.

Stuart, fiercely independent and proud, is still strong. We sit together on the glass fronted veranda and watch autumn die. Each day brings an added radiance to the forests. The leaves fall suddenly here, a breath and they are gone, says Daveth. Stuart, too, seems possessed by that same radiance. It shines through the grey pallor of his illness as he follows the flight of eagles with his binoculars, photographs a caribou glimpsed between trees, a moose swimming across the lake. Daveth, who lives nearby, calls to see us between cruises. Soon his season will be over and he will build his boats during the winter.

I take my breakfast and my laptop to the veranda this morning. There’s an email from Ali. She has a leading role in the next Barnstormer’s production. Brian had also emailed. His Willow Passion ceramic boxes have been shortlisted for a prestigious craft award. I’ll miss both events. How glibly I promised to be with them, Jake by my side, for all family celebrations. I’ve already missed the first one. Eleanor’s birthday celebration never changes. It’s nighttime in Dublin. She’s probably back in her bungalow now. I wonder how she and Jake sustained their conversation in Louisa’s Loft for the night.