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crisp packets, power lines stretched overhead and in the distance stood a new housing estate, rows and rows of red-brick boxes and gaping black windows. It was massive, that was still true, a great dirty expanse of scrubland, reined in by a wide, humming road.
    Alice and Tom held hands as they walked and Tom did seem to be enjoying himself, poking at the ground with a stick and snake-watching as they went. Ida trailed behind, kicking the earth. “I’m cold,” she said. “Shall we turn round?”
    They stood for a moment on the top of the hill, the breeze stinging their cheeks, while Ida struggled to light her cigarette.
    â€œLook!” said Tom, pointing at a fox then running down the hill towards it. He was showing off, willing her, or both of the women, to laugh and follow him.
    They stayed where they were. “What’s he going to do? Catch it?” Alice asked, smiling.
    Ida didn’t laugh. “I need to ask you where the painting is, the one of Ma looking into the mirror.”
    â€œWhat?” asked Alice. She was still looking down at Tom, who was waving wildly, trying to get them to come down to look at something.
    â€œYou know which painting, my painting.”
    â€œYou mean the Jacob Collins painting? We sold it ages ago.”
    â€œBut it was mine,” said Ida. “Where’s the money then? I need that money.”
    â€œOkay. Right. Well, I have no idea where the money is but I certainly don’t have it.”
    â€œThat was mine. You knew that, Alice. That wasn’t yours to sell. Fuck. I want to go home.”
    â€œAre you joking?” Alice asked.
    Ida shrugged.
    â€œOh God, I can’t believe this, as if things weren’t bad enough,” said Alice.
    â€œYou know he’s with you because of me – my name and Ma’s. You do know that, don’t you?” Ida asked as Tom gave up and jogged back up the hill towards them. “I’ve got a boyfriend. Who loves me,” Ida whispered. “If you want to think I’m jealous then don’t. It’s not that.”
    Tom reached them, panting and wrapped his arms round Alice. “Jesus, I’m unfit,” he said, and then, leaning back to look at her, “is everything okay?”
    Chapter five
    ~ 1999 ~
    As she squished herself back into the car Ida realised she had no idea where they were going. The location of her father’s house was one of those things she was sure she should know, but the truth was she hadn’t a clue. There’d been the strange flat by the beach, but they’d have moved somewhere else by now, Ida was sure. For one thing, that stinking old Jack Russell Terri had loved so much could barely make it up all the stairs.
    Ida had a sudden, unwelcome memory of Bridie meeting that dog, and screwed up her face. It must have been just before she’d left home, and she and Bridie had been walking to the shop, to get cigarettes probably, when Terri had appeared from round the corner, listening to her new Walkman and pushing the dog in some odd type of pram. Terri had been so proud of the Walkman her nephew had bought for her that she’d listened to it constantly despite only owning a single Dolly Parton tape. To Terri’s credit she had taken off her headphones and extended her arms for a hug, while Bridie had frozen with her eyebrows raised.
    That dog must be dead now, Ida thought. She wanted to ask Alice if Terri had bought another one, but Alice wasn’t speaking very much. It was a shame as it would have been fun to make bets about the awful things Terri was bound to say, and ask, and give them for lunch.
    Tom was aware of the tension and tried his best to make conversation. When that failed he fiddled with the radio for five minutes, finding static and distant French voices, until Alice tapped his wrist and he turned it off.
    They drove past Ida’s very first bedsit and she pointed it out to Tom. “Look, there out the