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Reluctantly Home(98)

Author:Imogen Clark

‘And you’re going to let all that stop you from being where you’re supposed to be?’ Evelyn asked.

Pip shrugged. ‘But where am I meant to be?’ she said. ‘I’m not even sure about that any more.’

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. The question required no further reply.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the seagulls calling to one another.

‘I always think,’ said Evelyn, ‘that the best way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time.’

Pip looked at her and grinned. ‘And precisely how many elephants have you eaten?’

‘Oh, you’d be surprised,’ Evelyn replied.

‘And what about you?’ Pip asked. ‘You’re going to have this place looking tip-top pretty soon. You’ll need a new project.’

‘I thought I might check out the local theatre,’ said Evelyn, surprising herself as this was the first time the thought had crossed her mind. ‘They’re bound to need volunteers to help with front of house and what have you.’

‘But don’t you want to be on the stage?’ said Pip. ‘In the spotlight?’

Evelyn thought she was probably right, but she didn’t want to run before she could walk, and it had been a very long time. She wasn’t even sure she could learn lines any more.

‘Let’s just start with selling programmes,’ she said, ‘and see where we get to.’

‘I think that’s a great idea, though,’ said Pip. ‘And I’m sure they’ll be delighted to have a professional on their books. I can come and see you,’ she added. ‘I’ve never known anyone in a show before.’

Evelyn smiled. Pip’s enthusiasm for life seemed to have grown a little each time they met. It was lovely to see.

‘And I thought I might look some people up, from the old days,’ Evelyn added. ‘Although I’ve no idea who might still be alive.’

‘You’re not that old!’ said Pip. ‘You do know that seventy is the new . . .’

‘Sixty-nine,’ offered Evelyn, and they laughed. ‘I do wonder what happened to dear old Ted, though. I really did let him float away.’

Pip opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it.

‘So, are you going to start looking for flats?’ Evelyn asked.

‘Maybe,’ said Pip, but she didn’t look as doubtful as she had moments before.

‘I never got to see Scarlet all grown up,’ said Evelyn, ‘but if she had turned out half as well as you, Pip, then I would have been very, very proud.’

Pip looked delighted. ‘Oh, Evelyn,’ she said. ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me for ages. I’m sure Scarlet and I would have been really good friends. We might even have known each other.’

Evelyn raised a sceptical eyebrow.

‘Okay,’ conceded Pip. ‘Given how fast I deserted Southwold I suppose that’s not that likely. But if we had met, then I’m sure we would have got along.’

‘I think you would have, too,’ said Evelyn.

‘And I think she would have been proud of you as well,’ said Pip. ‘The way you’re turning things around, getting the house straight, joining the theatre group and all that. I think she’d have been delighted.’

Later, when Pip had gone home and Evelyn was making her way to bed, she thought about Scarlet. She liked to imagine her as an adult, maybe with children of her own by now. Until she met Pip, she had only allowed herself to think of Scarlet as a three-year-old, preserved precisely as she had been when she died. But now she had a clearer idea of what Scarlet might have become, and it had opened up a whole new chapter for her. It was bittersweet, of course; it always would be, but she could open and close the book whenever she wanted to. And she had Pip to thank for that.

49

Pip was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of strong tea steaming at her side and her laptop open. She scrolled down and down. All the flats she had seen thus far had either been too far out of central London or too expensive. Although she had some savings, her income had dried up once she had stopped work. Hopefully things would pick up as soon as she started again, but there was no guarantee how quickly that might happen, and she didn’t want to saddle herself with a rent that would quickly become a millstone around her neck.

She was starting to think about going back. The day before, she had taken her courage in her hands and rung her clerk in chambers, the person in charge of her workflow. Matt had been her clerk from the very beginning of her career and she had always believed he had a particular soft spot for her, passing her the juiciest cases and covering up for her if she made a mistake.