‘You two might as well be brick walls for all the reward I get from talking to you! I know mornings are meant to be difficult for the young, but it’s hardly the crack of dawn.’
Laurie looked up from her plate with a start. Her mind had been wandering, it was true: to Paul and when he’d call, to work, and whether she would ever be returning there, to Margaret, mourning the husband she was no longer sure she knew, and then to William Pennington himself, and his odd library requests. All in all, she reckoned, she had a good excuse for not being particularly talkative. She was about to say something to that effect when she realised Dad wasn’t really talking about her.
Laurie had been conscious of Jess shuffling into breakfast a few minutes earlier, but it was only now, following Dad’s gaze, that she took proper note of her appearance. She looked terrible; there was no other word for it. Her skin had a waxy pastiness to it that belied the sun outside. Deep rings under her eyes made her look old in a way Laurie had never seen before. She sat there, hunched over a plate that hadn’t been touched, just gathering her dressing gown around her shoulders, staring into space. Ordinarily, Laurie would have supposed she had a hangover, but she knew Jess had turned in early the night before. At the time she’d muttered something about needing to be up early for work. That was a point. Laurie might not have an office to go to, but Jess certainly did. What was going on?
Jess looked up and met Laurie’s eyes, then shifted her attention to Dad, as if she’d just realised that he’d been speaking to her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured in a voice so low they had to strain to hear it. ‘I don’t feel very well today.’ With that, she pushed herself up from her place, turned around and went back into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her in a way that made it clear she did not want to be followed.
Laurie watched her go, remembering what she had found behind that bedroom door. She felt herself colouring up. Had it really only been this week? If anyone had a right to be down it was Jess. Laurie had been a bad cousin to her. But she’d seemed so well before.
‘I wonder,’ started Dad. ‘I wonder if perhaps you’d both like to come back with me this evening? I’m not the kind of evangelist who believes country air is the cure for all ills, but it seemed to do you some good last time you came down.’
This evening? Was it Friday already? It was amazing how quickly Laurie had lost track of the days without the office routine to remind her. Anyway, what about Dad’s offer? She smiled at him. ‘Good idea; you know how Jess loves it down there. What time were you planning to leave?’
‘Soon after lunch. I’d like to beat the rush hour if possible. I told the Shillings I’d be back in time for supper.’
‘Fine. I just thought I’d spend one more morning at the BL, if that’s OK. I want to take a look at some of those books William Pennington ordered, see if I can get inside his brain. I guess you could come too, if you wangled yourself a reader’s card. I imagine twenty years as a lecturer at Cambridge must count for something.’
‘You imagine correctly. I was visiting the BL before you were born.’ It could have been a put-down, but Dad had made the remark in a false-old-man voice that made it clear he was joking, and that the joke was on him, not his daughter. ‘Not that I’ve got my card with me.’ He continued, more normally. ‘And I’m sure it will be out of date. The last time I went, it was still in the British Museum. No, you go without me. Just try to get back before three.’