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thought of that?’
    In a word, no. I’ve been so focused on the dead, I forgot the living. ‘Greg will.’ I presume .
    ‘Well, he should – if Colette’s experience is anything to go by. And when he’s not there?’
    ‘I don’t know. I’d have to, I suppose.’
    ‘And what if they turn around and say, “You’re not my mother”?’
    ‘They’ve a nanny!’ I suddenly remember. ‘Hilary. She’d do the disciplining.’ Thank God. ‘And I’m good with kids, Grace. You know how good I am with Shane and Jase.’
    ‘You spoil them. And that’s fine. An aunt should. But a parent can’t afford to. They’d turn into tyrants. Another thing: Parents can’t switch off. You hand them back to me at the end of the day, and off you go to your peaceful apartment. Parenting is full-time. They don’t go away. Just think about it, Luce, OK? It wouldn’t be easy, that’s all I’m saying.’ She places a folded pillowcase on a pile and takes a shirt from another with a sigh. ‘God, I hate ironing.’ She looks up at me. ‘I take it they know, the children?’
    ‘I haven’t said yes.’
    ‘But they know you’re seeing each other?’
    ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’
    ‘Haven’t you met them?’
    ‘Not yet.’
    She throws me a look that says, ‘Don’t you think that would be a good idea?’
    ‘There’s no point unless I’m going to be in their lives, is there?’
    She switches off the iron and comes to sit with me at the kitchen island. Her voice is gentle when she says, ‘Lucy, I just mentioned children to make you appreciate the practicalities of this. I know you’ve been through a tough time. More than anyone, you deserve happiness , but do you really need to say yes now?’ I’m about to say ‘No,’ but then she adds, ‘I mean, how well can you know someone after eig ht weeks?’
    I rush to defend what we have together. ‘I know Greg.’
    ‘But how? How can you know it’s love after just eight weeks?’
    ‘I feel it.’ I’m touching my heart. ‘I died with Brendan. Greg has brought me back to life, given me a reason to live.’
    She says nothing.
    ‘He understands, Grace . . . He lost his wife.’
    ‘Ah.’
    ‘It’s not just that. I love him. He’s made me happy again. I never thought I could be.’
    ‘I just wish you wouldn’t rush.’ I want to say ‘I’m not,’ but she ploughs ahead with, ‘There are so many hurdles – his fame . . .’
    And I’m defending him again. ‘He’s a writer, not a movie star; people either don’t recognise him or don’t care.’
    ‘The age gap.’
    ‘Eleven years is nothing. And age doesn’t matter anyway when you’re with the right person. Greg’s so young in his outlook, Grace. Sometimes I feel I’m the older one.’
    ‘You’ve got the rest of your lives to be together.’
    I look at her. ‘I will never’ – pause – ‘make the mistake of assuming that again.’
    She stops. She rests a hand on mine. Her eyes well.
    But I don’t want her pity. I want her approval. I want her to say ‘Do it.’ Because, suddenly, I want to. The more obstacles she puts in my way, the more I want to jump them. Every one. I don’t want anything to stop us. I love Greg and I want to be with him, be part of his life, his family. And out of nowhere, I have the strongest feeling that Brendan wants this for me, too.
    ‘It’s right, Grace. I know it is.’
    She takes my hands in hers. ‘Then don’t listen to me. Always the cynic, always looking beyond what people say, never trusting. And still, I didn’t know the man I married until after I’d married him. Don’t listen to me.’ She smiles. ‘Sure, you never do anyway, do you?’
    ‘No.’ I smile back. It’s been hard to listen to the person I’ve been compared to and fallen short of all my life, the person who got a degree that pleased our mother, the person who got married young to a guy with no complications – not too old, not widowed, not a father and not famous. Kevin,