Leonard had put the album beside the kettle.
It wasn't the old one Anna remembered, thick brown pages and little corners which came unstuck if you touched them. This had clear sleeves and a cover showing a sunset nobody in the family had witnessed.
“There's some on the phone,” he said. “But your mother printed these.”
Anna took off her jacket.
She hadn't told him she was coming until the morning. She'd rung to ask for a picture of Tess playing when she was younger. He said there must be one somewhere. She could hear him moving things while they spoke.
Now he reached for the album before she could.
“Tea?”
“Yes.”
He put it down again.
The kitchen still had the current photograph by the cooker, Tess in the green dress at her leavers' dinner. Anna pointed.
“I asked for one of those.”
“I know.”
“You didn't give it to me.”
“I'll do it.”
She sat at the table.
Leonard made tea slowly. He used the pot, although Anna was fairly sure he normally put a bag in his mug. She watched him warm it with hot water and pour that away, and wanted to say she hadn't come as a guest.
The album opened stiffly.
Tess at a beach, front teeth missing. Tess in school uniform beside a hedge. Leonard appeared in one corner of a photograph, cut off below the eye. Maggie must have taken it.
Anna turned back to the beach.
“How old?”
“Seven. Perhaps eight.”
“Which?”
“Seven. That was before your mother got ill.”
Tess held a purple bucket upside down. Sand was falling onto her own foot. Anna looked at the foot for a long time.
Leonard put a mug beside her.
“There's one further in. At school.”
She turned the page.
The school photograph had six children behind different instruments. Tess stood beside a snare drum, sticks held upright, her cardigan buttoned wrong. Her face was serious and her fringe uneven.
Anna touched the plastic.
“Who cut that?”
“Your mother.”
“Really?”
“She said it was straight till Tess moved.”
Anna smiled. Then she saw a second photograph beneath the first: Tess on a low stage, head tipped to one side, mouth open as she struck the drum. Other children looked at their music. She was looking at someone beyond the camera.
“What was this?”
“Summer thing. They did it for the parents.”
“How old?”
“Seven.”
Anna leaned closer. The stick was a blur.
“What did they play?”
“I can't remember the name.”
“What sort of thing?”
“I can hear it, but I couldn't tell you. Drums at the front, then the rest coming in behind.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He looked at her, then almost smiled.
“Marching, I think. That sort of rhythm.”
“Was she good?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“She came on with the others. I thought that was the difficult part.”
“And then?”
Leonard sat opposite her. “What do you want me to say?”
“What she was like. Whether she was nervous. Whether she talked about it afterwards. Something.”
He looked at the picture. Anna could see him searching, and had to stop herself helping with invented possibilities.
“She'd polished her shoes,” he said at last.
Anna looked at him.
“That morning. They were the school ones. She wanted them properly shiny. Your mother told her nobody would be looking at her feet.”
“Did she polish them anyway?”
“Yes.”
Anna looked back at the photograph. The shoes were hidden behind the drum.
“Afterwards?”
“She asked if I'd seen her drop the stick.”
“Did she?”
“One came out of her hand. She got it back.”
“How?”
“Bent down. Still kept going with the other one. It was quick.”
“Did you tell her you'd seen?”
“I said I hadn't noticed.”
“Had you?”
“Yes.”
Anna sat back.
Leonard lifted his mug and put it down without drinking.
“I didn't want her feeling bad.”
“She knew you'd seen.”
“Perhaps.”
“She wanted you to say she got it back.”
He looked toward the album again.
Anna could almost hear Tess asking, flushed from playing, and the cheerful answer which made her have to hide the thing she'd done well. She wanted to tell Tess about it now, ask whether she remembered. She also wanted to be allowed one unspoiled minute with the picture.
“Can I have a copy?”
“Yes.”
“Not eventually.”
“I can take it somewhere tomorrow.”
“All right.”
They drank their tea.
Leonard said, “I thought it would be easier.”
“What?”
“Not bringing every little thing to you.”
Anna put down her mug.
“Easier for whom?”
“For her.”
“Was she asking you to stop?”
“No.”
“She asked for things at the visits. She wanted to show me.”
“I know.”
“When I stopped coming home in her head, did you think that was easier too?”
He folded his hands on the table.
“You told her I wasn't listening,” Anna said.
“I thought—”
“I know what you thought. I'd like you to say what you did.”
Leonard looked at the window.
“We stopped coming.”
“Yes.”
“After that visit.”
“Yes.”
“She didn't want to.”
“She was eleven. I was horrible to her. One visit. You could have brought her again when I wasn't.”
“You weren't there when we got home.”
Anna's throat tightened.
“No.”
“She cried in the car. Then she wouldn't talk to me. Then at night she asked whether she was supposed to choose.”
“I know what I said.”
“Then you know why.”
Anna looked at the child behind the drum.
She knew why he had wanted to protect Tess. She knew it so well that for a moment she hated him more.
“You let it be forever,” she said.
He rubbed his face.
“It wasn't going to be forever.”
“You didn't know that.”
“No.”
The little clock above the door clicked. Anna waited while his hand stayed over his eyes.
Eventually he lowered it.
“There's the van,” he said.
She stared.
“What about it?”
“She can have it. If she still wants. With Ruby driving. I've left her a message.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
Anna closed the album.
“You've known since Saturday.”
“I know.” He pushed the kettle switch down, though it had boiled. “I kept thinking I'd ring after I'd worked out what to say. Then it was Sunday. I didn't want the van to be the first thing I offered, as if that settled it.”
“You could have said it was theirs to use and kept being sorry afterwards.”
He switched the kettle off. “I didn't want another conversation where she couldn't bear me. I left her to pay for that.”
“She sold the drums.”
“What?”
“Some of them. To pay for the hire. The big one and a cymbal.”
Leonard looked at the table.
“She didn't say.”
“She wasn't reporting to you.”
“I can still offer.”
“Yes.”
“I should've—”
“Yes.”
He stopped.
Anna took out her phone. She hadn't come to be their messenger, but she wanted to hear Tess's answer before Leonard's good intention became a story he'd tell himself.
She typed:
Granddad says he's offered the van. Have you heard?
The reply came several minutes later, while Leonard was showing her where Maggie had written dates on the backs of some prints.
Yes. Said thanks but keeping hire. Already paid deposit and Ruby sorted it. Don't want more changing.
Anna showed him.
Leonard read the message twice.
“She said thanks.”
“Yes.”
He handed the phone back.
Anna opened the album to the drum picture again.
“Did Mum like it?”
“Very much.”
“Did she clap at the wrong time?”
“Before anyone else. She used to say the rest of us waited to be told it was allowed.”
Anna laughed once, then put her hand over her mouth.
Leonard didn't reach for her.
They sat there until she could move the hand.
“Could you tell me another thing?” she asked.
“About that day?”
“About any day.”
He looked at the picture.
“She used to practise on the chair cushions. Your mother made her stop on that one by the door because she'd knocked the stuffing down. Then she put it back every time she finished so nobody would know.”
“Did you know?”
“We could hear her.”
Anna smiled through the tears she hadn't meant to let him see.
“She thought cushions were quiet?”
“She thought we'd be fooled by where she put it.”
He moved the album closer to her.
Anna stayed for another cup of tea. She didn't tell him it was all right. When she left, she took the school photograph out of its sleeve with his permission and put it between two pieces of card.
“I'll bring it back when you've done a copy.”
“You can keep that one.”
She wanted to accept. Instead she said, “Do a copy. You should have it too.”
Outside, she stood looking at the front door for a moment. Then she carried the photograph to her room.
She put it beside the yellow-flower card and sent Tess a picture of it.
Shiny shoes apparently. Can't see them but told they were excellent.
Tess replied with three laughing faces.
God the fringe. Nan did that.
Anna enlarged the little face on the screen. She had one more thing now. It made her want the next.