Tess came into the shop with sand in one shoe.
She took it off beside the counter, tipped it over the waste bin and examined what remained.
“Lovely place,” Rachel said.
“The place was lovely. The shoe disagrees.”
“Did you sleep?”
“Some.”
Tess looked tired and pleased, her hair pulled back badly, one eye creased from leaning against a train window. Rachel could imagine giving her lunch, putting a cup in her hands, hearing enough of the trip to make the time apart feel brief.
“I can make toast.”
“I ate.”
“Tea?”
“Yes.”
Rachel went to the back. Tess came after her and put the garment bag on the table.
“The top worked.”
“Good.”
“Not one mark. Well, no new marks.”
“Did anybody notice?”
“Jo. She wants you to stop her jacket falling apart.”
“Tell her to bring it.”
“She might.”
Rachel filled the kettle. Tess put the drum case beside the chair and bent to straighten a strap.
“Where are the others?”
“Ruby's gone to see her brother. Eli's working. Jo's going home to change before work and complain that she still has work.”
“And Anna?”
“Home. Back to her room. She works later.”
Rachel put tea in the pot.
“How was the food?”
“A structural failure.”
“I gathered.”
“You should have seen her trying to keep the cheese attached. She said there ought to be regulations.”
Rachel laughed. Tess sat on the stool, relaxed enough to put one elbow on the table.
“The picture was very good.”
“She didn't think so.”
“Did she mind?”
“No. She said she'd put it on my wedding cake if I ever got married.”
Rachel looked up.
“She said that?”
“Not married to the cheese. I think she'd approve of that more readily.”
They laughed together. Rachel wanted the joke to contain all three of them. Tess was still looking at the picture on her phone.
“Mum thought she couldn't drink on the sofa.”
“Why?”
“Because of the dog. The painting. Bea said nothing matters except not putting a glass on her keyboard. So Mum kept asking the dog if he minded things.”
Rachel smiled. Another room, another joke, the woman who left with Tess beginning to occupy more of the story than the woman who made her top.
“Did you enjoy having her?”
Tess looked at her.
“I enjoyed it.”
“Yes.”
“Not having her. She's not a case to carry.”
Rachel accepted the rebuke.
“I know. Bad choice.”
“No, it's all right.”
Tess turned the phone over. Rachel poured tea.
Tess took the cup, drank too soon, pulled it away.
“Still capable of doing that,” Rachel said.
“I'm very consistent.”
Tess smiled and leaned back. For a little while she told Rachel about the set: Ruby losing a pick, the man trying to fix the sound, the audience which talked until one of the songs became interesting enough to compete. Tess was proud of the moment they made people listen.
Rachel asked about the top again, then heard herself doing it.
“I'm sorry. You said.”
“It was good. You can ask twice.”
She offered the forgiveness casually. Rachel hated that she needed it.
“What did Anna think?”
“She heard things.”
“What things?”
“The bit in 'Harbour Mouth'. The space we changed. She liked it.”
“She would.”
Tess's face altered.
“What?”
“She would like your music.”
“She didn't just say that. She noticed it. That's different.”
Rachel glanced at the case beneath the table.
“Of course.”
Tess took another sip. The room had shifted a little, something Rachel couldn't move back simply by becoming more tactful.
“I didn't know you were changing the song,” she said.
“We change things all the time.”
“I thought that one was finished.”
“It is. It isn't. Both.”
Tess laughed. Rachel wanted the answer to feel easy and could hear how hard she was working at it.
“I don't know enough.”
“You don't have to. It's nice when you come.”
Tess placed the cup on the table. The warmth in her voice was real, the invitation limited. Rachel heard the possibility of being a person who came sometimes instead of a person Tess returned to.
“Will you ask Anna to another one?”
“Maybe.”
“A tour date?”
“Maybe.”
“Is she expecting it?”
Tess looked up.
“Expecting what?”
“To go along. More than one.”
Tess rubbed a little dark mark from her wrist.
“She talked about it.”
“And?”
“I told her there's no room in the van.”
Rachel kept her hands around her own cup.
“Did that upset her?”
“A bit.”
“You've only just started seeing her.”
“I know.”
“And eight weeks—”
“I know.”
Tess sat straighter. Rachel had found the place where she could be useful and was losing it as she spoke.
“I mean it's a lot for both of you.”
“It is. I don't need you to make it sound more.”
“I wasn't trying to.”
Tess looked toward the shop entrance. Someone passed the glass and paused, then moved on.
“I'm tired,” she said. “I'm going to say it badly.”
“Then don't say it.”
“I want to.”
Rachel waited.
“I liked having her there. I don't want her in the van. Those are two things. Everybody acts as if one has to be the answer to the other.”
Rachel couldn't have put it better herself. She disliked how much Tess's words sounded like a place she no longer needed Rachel to find.
“I understand.”
“Good.”
“Leonard may worry about her wanting to go.”
Tess's face tightened.
“Granddad can worry about the van. Ruby's dealing with the van. I haven't asked him to deal with Mum.”
Rachel set her cup down.
“All right.”
Tess looked at her for another moment, then leaned forward to take the top from the bag. She hung it on the rail to air, as Rachel told her yesterday. The binding Rachel had sewn moved softly as Tess lifted the hanger.
“I want to show you something,” Rachel said.
She reached beneath the counter for the fabric samples she'd been keeping. A soft dark blue cloth, another in a warm grey. She thought Tess might like to learn on a piece big enough to become something she could wear.
“For after you come back,” she said.
Tess put out a hand and touched the blue.
“That's nice.”
“You could make a top. Nothing difficult.”
“With you?”
“If you wanted.”
Tess smiled.
“I'd like that.”
Rachel breathed more easily. She could hear the relief in the answer she didn't say. Tess would come back. There could be afternoons after October, the machine, something Rachel knew and a young woman pleased to need it.
“We can put it aside.”
“Not yet,” Tess said.
“Why?”
“I haven't come back yet.”
“I know.”
“I mean don't start doing the whole thing. I'd like to. That's all I know.”
Rachel put the cloth down.
“All right.”
Tess touched the edge again before leaving it.
“It really is nice.”
She gathered the case and the top. There was no reason for her to stay at the shop today. The extra shifts were money for touring; she wasn't obliged to bring every free hour to Rachel.
At the door she said, “Thank you for the tea.”
Rachel nodded.
“Get some sleep.”
“I'm going to.”
Tess left. Rachel watched her walk more slowly than usual, the weight of the case pulling one shoulder low. Anna could have carried it to the house. Rachel could have driven her. Tess hadn't asked either one.
She took the fabric samples to the back and put them on a shelf. The blue went beneath the grey so it wouldn't be the first thing she saw.
In the afternoon Leonard called to ask if Tess had reached town. Rachel said she'd been in.
“Did she seem all right?”
“Tired.”
“They are. At that age.”
“She enjoyed herself.”
“Good.”
He didn't sound certain enough to let the word remain there. Rachel asked about the van.
“Ruby collected the papers Monday,” he said. “Or Tess did. Ruby's got them.”
“And it's all arranged?”
“Near enough.”
“She seems very organized.”
“She does.”
Rachel turned a pencil against the counter.
“Anna wanted to go on part of the tour.”
He was quiet.
“With them?”
“It's not arranged. Tess said there isn't space.”
“There's enough in that van already.”
“I know.”
He said nothing for a moment. Rachel could hear something running in the kitchen, water or a fan.
“Anna only just got out,” he said.
“Yes.”
“She isn't going to like another goodbye.”
“No.”
The pencil stopped.
“I worry about Tess,” Rachel said.
“So do I.”
They stayed on the telephone a few seconds after the conversation finished having anything useful in it. Rachel said she would let him know if Tess came in again, then put the phone down.
She hadn't told him anything untrue.
Anna sent a message a little before three. Can I come in for a minute before work? I want to ask you something.
Rachel looked at the name and felt the relief of being needed return with an edge she hadn't felt yesterday.
Of course, she wrote.
She put the kettle on, then turned it off. Anna might only have a minute. The third chair was still at the back, exactly where Rachel knew how to put it.