On Saturday morning Mara found the L lying on its back, looking defeated before the day had begun.
The other three letters stood against the wall at the side of the party terrace. The E was taller than she'd remembered. The O was, unfortunately, large enough to encourage Bill's plans. Two people were lifting the L into place while Freya watched with a croissant in her hand.
“They've lost the will,” Freya said.
“It's Saturday. They've had a long week.”
“The V seems confident.”
Mara came to stand beside her. The terrace had changed overnight. White cloths covered the tables. Glasses waited in neat groups. Pale flowers stood in wide shallow bowls, not the little polite bottle she'd liked yesterday but a bright abundance she remembered choosing with the force of a person who would only get to do this once.
She still liked them.
The L rose, revealing that it had been waiting for a bracket rather than suffering a failure of conviction. The two workers stood it beside the O and began putting the remaining letters in their places. Mara watched the word become enormous.
“Subtle,” Freya said.
“I asked for a smaller font.”
“Did you?”
“Not with enough confidence.”
She laughed. Freya offered the croissant and Mara took a piece, getting flakes down the front of her dress. They brushed at them together, unsuccessfully.
“Good night?” Mara asked.
“Very.”
Freya smiled without volunteering a report. Mara brushed another flake from her dress.
“Good,” she said.
“Did you eat?”
“We ate magnificently.”
“I'm glad.”
“I gave Owen a speech.”
“That seems a mistake.”
“About Nina. There was a frog involved.”
Freya nodded as if she'd expected nothing less. “A fine choice of celebrant.”
Theo came across the terrace carrying two cold drinks. He gave one to Mara, having made no effort to identify himself before reaching her, and she had her hand out already. She disliked and loved the ease of it.
“Do we still own that?” he asked, looking at the word.
“Possibly not. I can't remember.”
“We could take it home one letter each.”
“You can have V and E. I've grown attached to LO.”
“A brief but welcoming statement.”
Freya finished her croissant. “I'm going to leave you to divide the alphabet.”
“You said you'd help,” Mara said.
“I am. What needs doing?”
Mara looked around the terrace. People were already doing the things which needed doing, with a competence she had paid for months ago and forgotten to anticipate. There was nothing to improve by putting Freya between them and a stack of glasses.
“You could tell me whether the flowers are too much.”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.”
“They look wonderful.”
Mara smiled. Freya touched her arm and went to find Kit, whose voice had reached them from the bar where he appeared to be conducting a survey of ice.
Elena saw Mara and Theo together and came over. She looked at the flowers with them, confirmed when the food would begin and asked whether they'd like to see the cake before it was moved into the cooler place awaiting evening.
Mara said yes with an enthusiasm which surprised her.
They followed her across the terrace and inside, to a room busy with trays, plates and people who had no interest in making their private life the central difficulty of Saturday. The cake stood on a table away from the door. It was three tiers, cream-colored, with fruit and small flowers climbing one side.
Mara had seen a photograph when they chose it. In person it looked too good to have been entrusted to people who might slice it.
“Oh,” she said.
Theo came beside her. “That's a serious cake.”
“I know.”
“We should apologize before cutting it.”
“You can. I'll be busy eating.”
A woman in an apron smiled and brought them a small plate with two pieces of cake from the same recipe. Mara accepted it. Theo took a fork.
The first mouthful was light, then rich, lemon bright beneath the cream. She shut her eyes briefly. When she opened them, Theo was looking at her instead of his own portion.
“You haven't tried it.”
“I was enjoying yours.”
She held the fork toward him. He leaned down and took the mouthful, his lips closing on the metal, and she watched with more attention than feeding a man cake required.
“Yes,” he said.
She ate the rest while he finished his piece. Elena said she was pleased they liked it. Mara thanked the woman, who took the empty plate and went back to what she'd been doing.
Outside again, Theo stopped to pick a small crumb from Mara's dress.
“There are several,” she said.
“I'm working on one.”
His fingers brushed the fabric beneath her breast. She looked down at his hand and then away, toward the letters which now stood upright and offensively clear.
“Very professional,” she said.
He let his hand fall. “I have references.”
She laughed, but the touch remained after the laughter had finished. Last night she'd taken the bedroom again, Theo the daybed, neither announcing what the arrangements meant. At breakfast she'd heard him move in the sitting room and wanted to call him back before he went to make coffee. She hadn't. Now a hand removing a cake crumb seemed capable of undoing the entire careful silence.
The band began trying something on the far side of the terrace. A few drum beats, a line of bass, then a bright burst from the saxophone which made Mara turn and grin before she recognized it as only a test.
Theo looked toward the musicians.
“He's on a chair,” he said.
“Already?”
The saxophonist stood on a low sturdy seat while somebody adjusted a cable below him. From a distance the whole arrangement looked like a man refusing to let practical preparation limit his height.
“We chose well,” Mara said.
“Ambitiously.”
They sat at a table which would belong to guests later. The band played part of a song Mara knew, then stopped, spoke to one another and began again from somewhere in the middle. Theo tapped the tabletop with two fingers. She watched him do it, then rested her foot against his under the cloth.
He kept tapping. His ankle moved nearer hers.
For a little while she could anticipate the whole evening without encountering any of the things they hadn't said: Leah in a dress she hadn't borrowed, Daniel watching her, Freya dancing with whoever she liked, Theo's mother in blue, Bill inside a giant letter until somebody intervened. She wanted the food she'd chosen for them. She wanted the good song and the terrible one. She wanted Theo to look for her in a crowd and find her pleased.
Her phone rang. Leah, asking where she was.
“Cake inspection,” Mara said.
“A useful profession. Are you available for lunch?”
“You've returned to public life?”
“Briefly. Daniel's going to swim first. I thought you might want company.”
Mara looked at Theo's fingers, still making their small rhythm.
“I'd like that.”
They agreed a place. When she ended the call, Theo looked at her.
“Leah?”
She nodded. “A table I won't have to choose.”
“Novel.”
“Very.”
He smiled. She could go to her sister, get dressed later and keep moving until Sunday arrived. She put her thumb against the phone, nearly calling Leah back.
She put her phone on the table.
“We need to talk before tonight,” she said.
His fingers stopped.
“Yes.”
She wanted to retract the sentence simply because he had agreed so quickly. If he'd made a joke, she might have followed it out of the conversation. He looked at her instead.
“After lunch?” he asked.
“Before we get dressed.”
He nodded. The band stopped again. In the sudden quieter space, she could hear glasses being moved on a table behind them.
“I really like the cake,” she said.
“I know.”
“I'm glad we're having this.”
“So am I.”
She stayed seated another moment, then stood. Theo got up with her. He touched the back of her arm while she picked up her phone.
Leah waited at lunch in a clean dress, hair still holding some of yesterday's rebellion. Mara kissed her, sat and asked about the evening she'd missed. Her sister told her about a drink, a very long conversation with Daniel, a song they both disliked and danced to anyway. There were things she didn't include. Mara enjoyed those too, the shape of a night which had not needed her.
They ordered. Leah asked whether she was all right.
“I love this place,” Mara said.
“Yes.”
“I'm having a wonderful time.”
Leah looked at her, then reached for the water bottle and filled both glasses.
“Have some lunch,” she said softly.
Mara did. It tasted good. She told Leah about the cake and her sister laughed when she described feeding Theo from her fork. Mara went on, describing the saxophonist's chair while Leah reached for more bread.
Afterward they walked together part of the way. Leah went to find Daniel. Mara continued toward the villa, feeling the warmth of the path through her sandals.
Theo was on the terrace when she arrived, the two cups he'd brought back from breakfast beside him. He looked up from his phone and put it down.
She stopped at the gate. The daybed stood beyond the open sitting-room doors, its pillow crooked. The room, the terrace, the next morning he had bought: everything was still available.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello.”
She came in and closed the gate behind her.