By half past two, Eva had a serving plan and a message from Jo.
Still coming tonight? I've bought enough potatoes for an evacuation.
Monday supper at Jo's had been on the calendar before Eva's trip. Ben was supposed to carry the pudding because he claimed carrying a pudding made a man popular. Eva had bought the chocolate for it on Wednesday and left it in the fridge.
She typed, Did Ben tell you?
Jo rang before she could put the phone down.
“He did,” Jo said. “Eva. How are you?”
“I'm at work.”
“Yes, but how are you?”
“I'm at work with Nora.”
There was a pause.
“Right. That's horrible.”
Eva could see Nora through the glass kitchen door. She was showing Will that two trays would fit side by side if he turned one round. He tried it, then held up both hands in surrender.
“Who's coming tonight?” Eva asked.
“You, I hope.”
“Jo.”
“Ben. And Nora.”
Eva pressed the phone against her ear.
“I invited her last week,” Jo said quickly. “When you were still away. You said I could include her sometime.”
Eva had said that. Jo worked in an office and liked anyone who could talk cheerfully about something other than an office. Nora had met her at the café. There had been no reason not to ask her.
“I didn't know then,” Jo added.
“And now?”
“Now I thought you might not want to come. I didn't want to decide for you.”
“You haven't uninvited him.”
“He's my friend too.”
Eva looked at the brown ring a coffee mug had left on her serving plan.
“Fine. I'll come.”
“You don't have to prove anything.”
“I'm coming for my potatoes.”
She hung up before Jo could make that sad.
At six she went home, showered and put on the green dress Ben liked. She took it off again. Then she put it back on because she liked it too and was running out of time.
The chocolate was still in the fridge. He had left that, and half a jar of mustard, and the comfortable old version of himself she kept finding in stupid places.
She took the chocolate to Jo's.
Nora opened the door.
For one second Eva thought she had got the house wrong.
“Jo's draining the potatoes,” Nora said. “She's told us all to leave her alone.”
Eva stepped past her. Ben was in the sitting room, holding a beer in the hand he hadn't raised to greet her.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hello.”
Jo came out of the kitchen carrying a colander that steamed against her chin. “Chocolate! You brought chocolate.”
“It's not a pudding.”
“Everything is a pudding if you lower your standards.”
That was one of Jo's usual jokes. Eva was grateful enough to want to hug her and furious enough not to.
She followed Jo into the kitchen. There were four places at the table, glasses already filled with water. Ben's place and Nora's were on the side facing the window. Eva's faced the cupboards.
“I thought I'd put you here,” Jo said. “You like watching me cook.”
“Usually I sit over there.”
“I know. I just thought—”
Jo set the colander down. She looked tired. Eva had known her since they were twenty-one, and knew that Monday always looked like this on her: an office day still hanging round her shoulders, supper done in the gap before she had to iron something.
“They're together now,” Jo said softly. “Splitting them up would make it awkward.”
Eva pulled out the chair facing the cupboards.
“Wouldn't want that.”
Jo's mouth tightened. Then Nora came in carrying the bread, and nobody said anything more about chairs.
The potatoes were slightly burnt at the edges. Eva ate six. If she couldn't have a nice evening, she could at least have an evening with butter.
Nora asked Jo about a seagull that had got into her office on Friday. Jo had told Eva about it on the phone, but the second telling was better. Ben wanted to know whether the bird had attended the meeting.
“It left when we mentioned targets,” Jo said.
“Management material,” Nora said. “You should put it on salary.”
Eva laughed before she could stop herself.
Nora glanced at her. She looked pleased, then cautious. That made it worse. Eva didn't want Nora to be grateful for a laugh as though Eva were being generous.
Ben reached for the bread and touched Nora's wrist on the way. Not much. Enough.
Eva put another potato on her plate.
“How's Saturday coming?” Jo asked her.
“Nearly full. I finished the serving plan today.”
“Nora worked out the trays,” Ben said.
“I didn't invent trays,” Nora said.
“Still.”
Eva could hear the pride in his voice. She had liked that voice when it was for her.
“Has Will confirmed what you're doing after the reopening?” he asked Nora. “Properly?”
Nora put down her knife. “We talked on Friday.”
“What are you doing after the reopening?” Eva asked.
“There'll be evening work,” Nora said. “If the suppers keep going.”
“I'm doing the rota. We haven't fixed that yet.”
“I know.” Nora reached for her water. “Will and I were talking about staying.”
“He needs to talk to me too.”
“I'm sure he will,” Ben said.
Eva looked at him. “You seem sure about a lot of things at my work.”
“I was asking her. She's had six weeks of not knowing where her next shift's coming from. You can't plan what you can afford like that.”
Nora's face had gone pink. Jo offered everyone more chicken.
Eva said yes, although she wasn't hungry any more. She had a question for Will now. She couldn't ask him here, and she wasn't going to give Ben another chance to explain her own café to her.
For pudding they broke the chocolate into four unequal pieces. Ben pushed the biggest towards Eva out of habit, then looked down at his hand.
She took it.
Afterwards Jo mentioned the harbour outing on Wednesday. A walk, food from the stalls, nothing to arrange if the weather held. Ben and Eva had planned it before she went away.
“We'll be there,” Ben said.
He meant Nora.
Eva bit through her piece of chocolate. The green dress was tight across her stomach now. She was tired of sitting carefully.
“So will I,” she said.
On the way home Jo's warm kitchen stayed with her: Ben's hand on Nora's wrist, the four water glasses, Jo giving her the place opposite the cupboards.
She had gone because she refused to disappear. Somehow, being there had felt worse.