Leah went back to the house at half past eleven on Saturday.
She had slept for four broken hours and washed in Mira's tiny bathroom while her friend shouted that she needed to leave in six minutes. Mira had gone with a camera round her neck and two bags over her shoulder. Leah had stood at the window watching her load the borrowed car, then looked up rooms she might be able to afford.
There was one offering viewings that afternoon. She had written to ask. Another was too expensive, although the photograph made her want it badly. She had closed that page before she could begin bargaining with numbers.
Now she stood outside the house with empty hands.
Anna opened the door. She had taken the pencils out of her hair. Without them she looked like herself on a day off, although there was nothing relaxed about her.
‘Mum's in the sitting room,’ she said.
‘Are you ready?’
Anna looked towards the stairs. ‘Nearly.’
Her suitcase stood at the bottom. Beside it was the trunk with the blue lamp. Leah recognised the shoes she had seen inside. Anna had put them on.
In the sitting room, Ruth was arranging flowers beside the photograph. Daniel had moved a small table against the wall, leaving space for people to stand. There were more chairs than usual. The room already felt like a place where everyone would behave carefully.
‘You've come early,’ Ruth said.
‘I said I'd ask you to correct what you told people.’
Ruth put down a flower stem. ‘I'll correct it.’
‘Then do it when they arrive. The people you told.’
‘I can't remember every conversation.’
‘You don't have to remember every sentence. You know who you told I was abandoned without a reason.’
Ruth looked at Daniel. He was moving the last chair.
‘Some of them are Anna's friends too,’ she said.
‘I'll be here,’ Anna said from the doorway.
Leah looked at her sister. Anna came into the room and stood beside the flowers.
‘You can say I knew and didn't tell Leah,’ she said. ‘You don't have to make it sound like something I missed.’
Ruth's face changed slightly. ‘I wasn't going to.’
Leah did not argue about that. She went to look at the photograph.
She remembered the day now. They had stopped beside a field because her father wanted to examine a gate somebody had repaired badly. He had complained about the hinge, then stood against it smiling while Ruth took the picture. He had been happy because they were all there, and because there was still something in the world for him to explain with his hands.
Leah touched the bottom of the frame.
‘I liked that day,’ Ruth said.
‘So did I.’
They stood beside it for a few seconds. Her father had missed so much. Leah wished she could ask him things and knew she was remembering only the answers she wanted.
The first guests arrived at noon. Ruth went to the door and put on her familiar bright voice. Leah heard coats being taken off, remarks about the flowers and someone asking where to put a bag.
Three people came into the sitting room. One of Ruth's friends hugged Leah and asked if she was managing all right.
‘Some of the time,’ Leah said.
‘Your mum told us. Awful way for him to behave.’
Ruth stood beside the door, holding a coat.
Leah looked directly at her.
Her mother folded the coat over her arm.
‘I need to correct something I said about that,’ Ruth told her friend. ‘About Owen leaving.’
The room became quieter, but not silent. In the hall another guest was trying to shut an umbrella.
‘He did something wrong,’ Ruth said. ‘Anna and I knew before Leah did. We should have told her. I made it sound like he'd simply gone and nobody knew why. That wasn't true.’
The woman looked at Leah, then Anna. ‘Oh.’
Anna nodded. ‘I knew. I didn't tell her.’
Nobody asked for the amount or the envelope. Nobody had enough information to turn the room into a verdict. The awkwardness was smaller than Leah had feared and more uncomfortable than Ruth had hoped.
‘Are you getting married, then?’ another guest asked Leah.
‘No. The wedding's cancelled.’
The guest murmured something about being sorry. Then the umbrella finally closed with a loud click, and someone in the hall asked whether a chair could be moved. Daniel went to help.
Life did not pause until they agreed on what everyone deserved. Leah was glad of that.
Ruth repeated the correction to two people who arrived together a few minutes later. She said it more quickly the second time, but she said it. Leah did not require her to make a speech to the whole gathering.
Anna stood near the door, speaking to someone from the theatre. She could sound at ease in front of a group, even now. Leah saw the effort beneath it: one hand gripping the other at her waist, her eyes moving towards the hall where her suitcase waited.
At a quarter past twelve, Ruth took her phone out.
‘Before everyone gets scattered,’ she said. ‘Let's have a photograph.’
She began putting people beside the flowers. Two guests continued their conversation while shuffling into place. Daniel came back from the hall. Ruth beckoned to him.
‘There. And Leah, beside Daniel.’
Leah stayed where she was.
‘We need to make room for Anna at the other end,’ Ruth added.
Anna looked at her. Daniel's expression closed.
The arrangement could have meant nothing once. Her mother was good at arranging a photograph. She knew who was tall, who blinked and who looked happier from one side. Leah had always moved when Ruth pointed.
‘I'm not in this one,’ Leah said.
Ruth lowered the phone. ‘Just one photograph, love.’
‘I don't want one today.’
‘For your father.’
Leah glanced at the framed picture. She could love him without standing where her mother wanted her.
‘You have his photograph. I'm glad I came to see it.’
Ruth opened her mouth, then looked at the guests. A man at the end of the row was reading something on his own phone. The woman beside him was waiting with a patient, embarrassed smile.
‘She said no,’ Daniel said.
Ruth raised the phone again. ‘All right. Everyone look here.’
Leah left the room while the others tried to fit into the picture. Anna followed her as far as the hall.
‘My taxi's coming in ten minutes,’ she said.
Leah looked at the suitcase. ‘I'll wait outside.’
‘You don't have to.’
‘I want to.’
She went out and sat on the low wall by the gate. The sun had warmed the stone. Through the open window she could hear Ruth asking for one more picture because someone had looked away.
Leah put both feet on the pavement and waited for her sister.