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explaining to do before Kate saw her room. Kate sat there for two hours waiting and Marco was friendly, but until this afternoon she’s never had a conversation with anyone else.
    Alexander.
    She didn’t really notice him in the restaurant until he smiled. When his face is normal, he looks like he could make someone unhappy. When he smiles, the air around him sparkles. She has an image of him as he followed his crowd out of the restaurant. He’s looking at the sky, enjoying the feeling of sun on his face after the dry chill of the air-conditioning, the heaviness of his jacket hunching his shoulders. He’s with the others, but not with them, somehow. The battered flying jacket with pockets so full they droop makes him look like a teacher.
    But she didn’t know that he was a teacher then. She wonders if her brain’s created the image to fit the facts.
    Marie’s on her way back. She shimmies through the men, unable not to draw attention to herself even amongst a crowd of uninterested guys.
    ‘Listen to this,’ she says, squeezing her bottom onto Kate’s seat. ‘Have you ever had a pigeon on your right shoulder?’
    She points to Kate’s right shoulder.
    ‘No,’ says Kate, warily. It’s bound to be something crude.
    ‘Have you ever had a parrot on your left shoulder?’
    ‘No.’
    Marie points to her mouth.
    ‘I bet you’ve had a cockatoo in there!’
    ‘Gross!’
    Marie’s delighted with herself.
    ‘There’s this club they can get us in,’ she says.
    ‘I want an early night,’ Kate says.
    ‘Oh.’ Marie’s face twists with indecision. Will she try to bully Kate into going with her, or not? ‘You’re right,’ she says, finally, ‘I’m going to be dancing at seven. What do I want to spend the whole night dancing for too?’
    Kate’s surprised, but pleased too, specially when Marie links her as they’re walking back. Sometimes London makes Kate feel as if she’s floating about in a whirl of sensation. The friendly press of a sister’s arm grounds her.
    ‘Des wants me to move in with him,’ Marie remarks, as she puts her key in the lock.
    The sisterly, companiable feeling vanishes. Marie’s clearly been working up to telling Kate that she’ll have to find somewhere else to live. She feels momentarily betrayed, then ashamed of herself. It’s a significant step for Marie to settle down with Des. She should welcome it.
    ‘I don’t like the idea of giving up my freedom,’ Marie says, slumping down on the leather sofa, ‘but I’ll have more money.’
    ‘And you’ll be with Des,’ Kate says. ‘Is it a nice house?’
    She pictures them in a little modern place with Marie up a ladder, singing along with Jennifer Lopez on Capital as she slops lime green paint on the ceiling, or lilac or some other bright colour she’s seen on Changing Rooms.
    ‘Listen to you!’ Marie suddenly snaps. ‘Why should I settle down? You’re not.’
    ‘I don’t want you to settle down,’ Kate protests.
    ‘Yes you do.’
    ‘Only because I’m frightened for you sometimes,’ Kate says carefully.
    ‘Why don’t we go round the world together, then? I’ve got enough money for both of us...’
    Kate has never suspected that Marie wanted to share her dream with her. She wonders why it hasn’t occurred to her. It’s typical of Marie. Now she understands the generosity of her sister’s invitation to London .
    Go for it, Kate. Stay at my place.
    ‘You’d do more things with me along,’ Marie presses on, capitalizing on Kate’s surprise. ‘What’s to lose? If I give this place up, you’ll have to go back home anyway. You’ll never survive and save, working in a pizza restaurant.’ She blows out a smoke ring contemptuously.
    With typical impatience, she’s moved from suggestion to blackmail in less than a minute.
    ‘I can’t go with you,’ Kate tells her. ‘It’d be great with you, but different,’ she says, trying to soften the refusal.
    ‘You won’t change, you know,’ Marie taunts her,