at me. My heart sank as he helped himself to more wine.
‘Well? Have you had any more thoughts on the house?’
I groaned inwardly. I had thought the subject had been dropped.
‘Look, Jack,’ I said, ‘we’ve been round this so many times. I don’t care if this is a good time to sell, I don’t care if the kitchen is antiquated, I don’t care about the money. Please, let’s not start it all up again. I’m simply not going to sell.’
There was a small silence.
‘So you want me to service your boiler,’ my brother said.
‘No, I don’t. That isn’t what I said!’
He looked at me. Perfectly calm, indolent, ready for another argument, loving it. Yes, I thought, here we go. It was what he used to do when we were growing up and he’d return from boarding school wanting something that belonged to me. Later, he used to get money out of me in this way, slowly, draining away my savings, wearing me down, weakening my resolve. Well, he wasn’t going to do that any more. Love might never have existed between us for all the show there was of it now. We were children from the same womb, fathered by the same man, but separated by a shared past.
‘It will probably blow up and kill you,’ he said.
I stared into the distance of the darkening garden, my face tightening. His nastiness always took me by surprise.
‘Sell the house, Ria,’ he said again, softly.
In the twilight I could see his teeth as he spoke. They were small and even, and very white. The children were watching us, fascinated.
‘Who would like some raspberry tart and cream?’ I asked.
‘Yes, please,’ Sophie, my niece, cried. ‘Can we have it while we watch television?’
‘You should cut the grass by the river,’ Zach said. ‘It’s not a good idea to allow it to grow so long. Anyone trying to get out of the water in a hurry might have trouble.’
‘Why would you want to get out in a hurry?’ Sophie asked.
‘Because of the current, stupid!’
‘Stupid yourself.’
‘Zach,’ Miranda said.
‘If you’re planning on swimming,’ I said, ‘perhaps you could clear it for me?’
‘Nah!’ he said.
I wanted to say that a bit of exercise might help him lose some weight. But I’m not his mother. As far as I could see, all they appeared to do in their spare time was watch endless television and play computer games. But this, too, wasn’t my business.
‘Why don’t you fence the river off?’ Miranda asked, slicing up the tart. ‘After all, you don’t swim in it, do you?’
I shrugged. I could have told her that I liked having the river at the bottom of my land. I liked the way it moved, as though it were a sleek animal, lean in high summer, flushed and heavy in spring and autumn, cold and uninviting in winter. If I fenced it off, I would not see the extraordinary birdlife that lived around it, nor would I be able to wave to Eric on his trips upstream, on warm, moist nights, his low battery light encircled by moths as he hunted for pebbleblack eels. I could have told her this, but I didn’t.
‘You’d get a flat in London for half the price of this place,’ my brother reminded me.
Still I said nothing. He wanted a share of the money to fund his political activities.
‘Why are you such a loser?’ he asked. ‘Think what you could make—enough to buy two houses.’
‘Jack!’ Miranda protested. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, turning to me.
‘Look,’ I said, as pleasantly as I could, ‘shall we stop baiting Ria for the duration of this holiday? I’m just not selling, Jack. Get this into your head. I’m not interested in the monetary value of this house, nor am I interested in funding your fascist politics, okay? Now, who wants coffee and who wants tea?’
Jack laughed. How the hell was I going to get through the fort-night? Miranda was looking at me with something like kindness. Lately I had begun to feel a great deal of sympathy for my sister-inlaw. There have been moments, when she was pregnant with the children, for example, when we’d come close to seeing eye to eye.
I went back into the kitchen to fill the kettle.
‘We’re thinking of going to Cromer,’ Miranda announced, coming in after me with the pile of dirty plates. ‘Just for a few days—give the kids a bit of beach. Fancy coming with us?’
I held my breath. When were they thinking of going? We cleared the kitchen together.
‘You need a holiday, too, Ria,’ she said after a while. ‘You work far too much. In that way you’re like Jack.’
I laughed without humour and filled the dishwasher, scraping bits of food off the plates. I would not cry.
‘Actually,’ Miranda continued, lowering her voice, ‘I’m a little worried about him.’
I was surprised. My brother’s marriage had always seemed to me to be run along the lines of a business. Nothing emotional was ever aired. What was she worried about?
‘He’s getting far too involved in politics. We’re spending vast amounts of money and I’m worried. You know how stubborn he is. I was wondering if you might talk to him.’
‘Me! You must be joking!’
‘Yes, I know…’ her voice trailed off.
If Miranda was appealing to me, then things must be desperate.
‘I just want him to take it easy. There are a couple of people who have joined who are…well, a bit extremist, you know what I mean? We’ve had a few odd-looking types visiting. Anyway,’ she glanced around quickly, ‘what d’you think about Cromer?’
‘Ria, I need to use the Internet,’ Jack announced, walking in with the empty wine bottle.
He poured himself a whisky.
‘I presume you did get it installed after last year’s fiasco? Let’s forget Cromer, Miranda. I’m thinking of hiring a boat for a few days.’
The sound of the television drifted out through the open window, mingling with raised voices and the odd thump. The children were fighting.
‘Oh God!’ Miranda cried, wiping her hands, ‘I’d better go and see what they’re up to.’
‘Yes.’
A kind of hollow despair enveloped me. In just a few hours my house had been stripped of its privacy. Alone in the kitchen I poured myself another drink and walked outside, moving swiftly towards the wild part of the garden. Beyond the river, and before you reached Orford Ness, were the matchstick woods. They were hidden now by fingers of dusk. The air was much cooler here and
