Part 42 (1/2)

”Really?”

”Yes,” said Laura. ”You know, she really is. We all are.”

That evening, Laura went to her parents' for supper. When she arrived, her mother was on the phone to Annabel in the hallway. She raised her eyes at Laura and blew her a kiss.

”How're you?” Laura said to her brother, as they were making drinks in the kitchen.

”I'm okay.” Simon was slicing a lemon; he didn't look up. ”How about you?”

”I'm okay.” Laura flicked through the stately homes calendar on the kitchen counter, and looked round the kitchen, cozy and warm in the chill October evening.

”Wish tomorrow was over,” said Simon. ”I hate funerals.”

”No, really?” said Laura. ”Actually, though, you know, I'm almost looking forward to it.”

”Really?” Simon handed her a drink. ”Why?”

”You know, it's Gran. It'll be great. You know everyone loved her. Everyone thought she was the greatest person in the room.”

”True,” said Simon. ”Still...” He looked sadly at the photo on the fridge of Mary sitting in her deck chair at Seavale. ”Wish she was here instead.”

Laura shook her head, her eyes filling with tears, because of course that was what she wished, too, more than anything else; but she felt this very strong feeling of calm about her grandmother, and kept remembering what Annabel had said.

”Burr,” she said, sniffing. ”Stupid.”

Simon hugged her. ”Ah, sis. Don't cry.”

”'Mnot.' Laura wiped her eyes.

”So-what happened, then?” Simon shoveled some crisps into his mouth. ”You went back up to that bloke's house, didn't you?”

Laura nodded. ”Yes. Well. No. Yes, I did, I-actually? Let's forget it.”

”No, tell me,” said Simon. ”What's going on? You like him, I mean you really like him. I can tell.” He ate some more crisps, but looked at her sideways.

”You know what?” said Laura frankly. ”I actually have no idea what's going on. But I think he needs to sort himself out a bit. And so do I.”

”Right.”

”And till then, let's forget it. Tell me what's going on with you and Jorgia. How is she?”

Simon said casually, ”I've got a job, you know.”

”What?” said Laura, peering down the corridor to where Angela was nodding silently, still on the phone to Annabel. ”What can they still be talking about? What? You've got a job? Doing what?”

Simon shrugged. ”Working in a garden center.”

”What?” said Laura, not quite able to process the information her brother was giving her. She stared. ”A garden center? Why?”

”I love gardening,” said Simon. ”I want to be a gardener.”

”No, you don't,” said Laura, bewildered. ”Who are you? What are you talking about? What about Jorgia, about going back to Peru?”

”I do want to be a gardener,” said Simon stubbornly. ”I love gardening, you know I do.”

It was true-Simon did love gardening, always had done.

”Where?” said Laura, trying to get a grasp of it all.

”Out toward Windsor, quite near here, actually. It's that house, Myddleton Manor. You remember, Mum and Dad used to take us when we were little. It's got the boating lake, and the ponies. Just off the M4 motorway.”

”Oh, my G.o.d, yes!” said Laura.

Simon said, ”It's what I want to do, you know.”

Laura was confused; lots of things were going through her head. ”I know you do, but-Simon, what about Jorgia, what's happened?”

Simon said, ”It's over with me and Jorgia.”

”Oh,” said Laura, looking at him in distress. His face was impa.s.sive. ”Why? Oh, I'm sorry.”

Simon said, ”We were too different, Laura. She-well. It's not going to happen. We had a big argument last week. And we talked yesterday-we both kind of agreed. You know? So. Yeah.” He shrugged, a completely boyish gesture. It said, ”I'm not fussed.” It meant, ”I'm really upset but I'm a man, so no chance I'm going to talk about it.”

”Oh, Simon.” Laura looked at her brother.

”It's weird,” Simon said. ”I really thought we'd make it work, you know?”

”I know,” said Laura. ”I'm so sorry.”

Simon coughed. ”I'm okay, honestly. Well, kind of. It's weird, though. I was talking to Jo the other day, and we were saying how different our lives are, all of that. And I looked at her and thought, Yes, but I still know you. I know you. Who you are and all of that. What kind of person you are. I don't really know that with Jorgia. I loved her. She's beautiful. I loved her family, their lifestyle. But I didn't really know her.”

”But you would have done, with time,” said Laura, feeling panicked all of a sudden. ”It's not important, that stuff. You'd have worked it all out. Don't you think?”

”No,” said Simon impatiently. ”You don't understand. I don't mean all of that. Of course I would have done, I'd have got to know her better. I just mean, I know Jo. I know who she is, really well. And that's not because she's been our friend for years and years. I mean that, even if she lived on the other side of the world and all of that, it's comfortable, she's from our group, she does the same things we do, she thinks the same way. Jorgia and me-” He made a helpless gesture with his hands. ”I don't really know her. Does that make sense?”

Laura looked at him. After a minute, she said, ”It makes a lot of sense. A lot of sense. But...”

”I know I was harsh to you, that night at supper,” Simon said. He handed her the crisps. ”I'm really sorry. I've felt really bad about it-”

”Simon, don't, seriously,” said Laura. ”I'm the one who should feel bad about it. I was too judgmental, too hard on you. I just-I thought I knew it all. I was wrong, I'm sorry.”

”Maybe you were a bit,” said Simon. ”But actually, the point you were making-you were right, you know.”

”What do you mean?”

Simon s.h.i.+fted in his seat so he was facing her. ”You jumped down my throat, but you were right. We're too different, me and Jorgia, and there's no way to overcome those differences. Two different worlds.”