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around.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œLeft lane. You need to be in the left lane for the ferry terminal. Oh, for God’s sake, Mum, why can’t you just wear your bloody glasses?”
    Kate wrenched the little car into the left lane, ignoring the beeps of protest behind her, and, under Sabine’s bad-tempered direction, eased it over to the windswept sign that indicated foot passengers. She drove until she could see a place to park, a gray, windswept tarmac desert, in the shadow of a featureless gray Lubyanka. Why do they make offices look so dispiriting? she thought, absently. As if people weren’t already miserable enough when they got there. When the car and its wipers stopped again, the rain obligingly ensured that it was swiftly erased, turning everything outside into an impressionistic blur.
    Kate, for whom most things without her glasses were an impressionistic blur, gazed at the outline of her daughter and wished suddenly that they could have the kind of fond farewells that she was sure other mothers and daughters practiced. She wanted to tell her she was bitterly sorry that Geoff was going, and that for the third time in her young life their domestic arrangements were going to be in upheaval. She wanted to tell her that she was sending her to Ireland to protect her, to save her from witnessing the kind of bitter scenes that she and Geoff had barely been suppressing as they ended their six-year relationship; and she wanted to tell her that even though she and her own mother no longer had any kind of relationship, Kate unselfishly wanted her to feel like she had some kind of grandmother, someone other than just her.
    But Sabine always made it impossible for her to say anything, was seemingly covered in an ever-growing coat of spikes, like a glamorous, sulky little porcupine. If she told her she loved her she was told off for being so Little House on the Prairie . If she reached out to hug her, she felt her child visibly flinch in her arms. How did this come about? she repeatedly asked herself. I was so determined that our relationship would be different, that you would have all the freedoms I was denied. That we would be friends. How did you come to despise me?
    Kate had become an expert at hiding her apparently odious feelings from her daughter. Sabine hated it even more if she got needy and emotional; it just made her even more prickly. So instead she reached into her overflowing basket-bag and handed over her tickets, as well as what she considered a generous amount of spending money. Sabine didn’t even acknowledge it.
    â€œNow, the crossing will take around three hours. It looks like it might be a bit rough, but I’m afraid I didn’t bring anything for seasickness. You’ll get into Rosslare at around four-thirty, and your granny will meet you at the information desk. Do you want me to write any of that down?”
    â€œI think I can just about remember ‘information desk,’” said Sabine, dryly.
    â€œWell, if anything does go wrong, I’ve put the phone numbers for the house on the back of the ticket holder. And ring me when you get there. Just so I know you’ve arrived.”
    Making sure the coast is clear, thought Sabine, bitterly. Her mother must really think she was stupid. She must really think she didn’t know what was going on. There had been so many times in the past few weeks where she had wanted to scream at her, I know , you know. I know about why you and Geoff are splitting up. I know about you and Justin bloody Stewartson. And that’s why you’re shipping me out of the way for a few weeks, so you can carry on your disgusting little affair with both me and Geoff gone.
    But, somehow, despite all her anger, she had never quite had the appetite for it. Because her mother had just seemed too sad, too droopily miserable about it all. Still, if she thought she was going to go quietly, she had another thought coming.
    They sat in the car for a few