Nia's green case stood beside the hotel door.
Lena saw it before she saw either of them. She could have gone in through the restaurant entrance and found Bea in the reception room. Instead she walked towards the steps, holding the hardware-shop bag against her stomach.
Nia stood under the porch with her coat over one arm. She had put on a dark dress, and small gold earrings which moved when she turned her head. Kit faced her, hands in his pockets.
'It wasn't a kiss,' he was saying.
'You have told me that three times.'
He took his hands out. 'I don't want you thinking—'
'I know what happened. You explained it.' Nia pulled her coat on, catching one cuff inside the sleeve. She tugged it free. 'It's not only that she tried. You wanted her to.'
Kit looked past her and saw Lena.
Nia followed his glance. She didn't look surprised. Lena climbed the last step.
'I'm sorry,' she said.
Nia waited.
'I knew you were here together. I shouldn't have done it.'
'No,' Nia said. 'You shouldn't.'
There was no useful next sentence. Lena stayed where she was while Nia zipped the side pocket of her case.
Kit reached for the handle. 'Let me take that down.'
'It's got wheels.'
'I know. I can still—'
'I can manage it.'
He let go.
Inside, someone laughed. One of the guests passed behind the glass with flowers in both hands, then disappeared towards the stairs. Nia looked at the flowers, and Lena wondered whether she was thinking of the morning she'd just spent getting ready.
'You told me it was finished,' Nia said to Kit.
'We finished four years ago.'
She gave him a tired look. 'You know what I mean.'
He nodded.
'I asked you at breakfast. Not because I wanted a whole account of your past. Because I could see something was happening.'
'I should have been clearer.'
'You said it was awkward seeing her. That's different.'
He looked down. 'Yes.'
Lena's face burnt. She was standing close enough to touch him, the same distance as at the sea wall, but she couldn't look at his mouth now. Nia had made the journey, bought the dress or chosen it from her wardrobe, expected an entire day. There was just this woman in the porch, waiting for a car.
Kit shifted towards her. 'We could talk somewhere else. Have some lunch.'
'I'm going home.'
'It's a long way.'
'I'll take the train after the taxi. I've looked it up.'
A car slowed beside the kerb. Nia lifted one hand to the driver, then turned back to Kit.
'I like you. I was enjoying myself. That's the annoying part.'
'I was too.'
'Fine. We enjoyed ourselves.' She took the handle of the case. 'But I'm not spending the rest of the weekend watching you watch each other.'
Lena moved aside so she could pass.
'I'll pay for the taxi,' Kit said.
Nia stopped. 'You can pay me back for the hotel. My half. Send it when you've got home.'
'I will.'
'Good.'
She wheeled the case to the steps, then lifted it down one at a time. At the last she stopped, struggling with the weight. Kit reached for it again. This time she let him carry it to the car, but she got in without waiting for him to open the door.
Lena stood in the porch. She didn't call goodbye. Nia would have to answer, and she had already had to do enough.
The taxi pulled away. Kit remained at the kerb until it turned the corner.
When he came back, he looked at the paper bag in Lena's hands.
'Did you get what you needed?'
It was such a wrong question that she almost laughed. She nodded instead.
Bea came through the lobby behind her. Her hair was pinned up now, her dressing gown exchanged for a white shirt and leggings.
'Where is everyone? I've been looking for you.' She saw the taxi disappearing and stopped. 'Was that Nia?'
'She's gone home,' Kit said.
'Why?'
'I let her down.'
Bea glanced at Lena. The bag crinkled under her fingers.
'You can explain later,' Bea said. 'I need the wire. They've finished the outside bit but it won't stay up.'
Lena held it out. Bea took it, then touched her elbow.
'Please,' she said quietly. 'Just today. Whatever's happening, can it wait until tonight?'
Lena looked towards Kit. He was already moving away, through the lobby towards the stairs. He didn't look back for her.
'I'll fix the leaves,' Lena said.
Bea exhaled, relieved, and led her inside.
At the reception-room doors, Lena opened the bag of pegs. She clipped the first strand in place, tested it with her hand, and clipped the next. Her fingers knew how to do the job. She was grateful for that, even while Bea stood behind her explaining how long they had before the photographs.