followed her into the house. Dinah led her through the rooms, showing her the place where she would sleep, the boys’ playroom, the bathroom. Milly dropped her little bag on her bed and sat down, barely rippling the smooth white cover. She stared out of the window into the steely blue twilight.
‘I’ll leave you to sort yourself out,’ Dinah said. ‘I’ll be downstairs making some supper, when you’re ready.’
Milly reappeared a little later. She leaned in the kitchen doorway with her thin arms wrapped across her chest, defensive.
‘There’s no TV.’
‘Yes, there is. Through there, in the den. I showed you.’
‘In my room.’
Dinah had forgotten her moment of irritation. She considered her present urge to propitiate this child, to move televisions and rearrange her house, so that in return she would smile and talk and look upon her as a friend.
‘No. We don’t let Jack and Merlin watch in their bedrooms. If we did, they’d never do anything else. Switch it on now in the den, if you want. Are you ready to eat? It’s pizza.’
‘I don’t eat pizza.’
‘Four-cheese and tomato. I know you’re a vegetarian.’
‘Vegan.’
For God’s sake, Dinah thought. ‘So what do you eat?’
‘Rice. Pulses. Fruit. Tofu.’
There was a distant clicking sound and then a skidding rush as Ape emerged from his lair in the utility room. He stopped short when he saw Milly and his legs stiffened as he launched into a volley of barking. A thin thread of spittle roped down from his furious jaws. Milly scrambled away from him, almost falling, and wedged herself behind the table. Her lips went white, making their dark crayon outlining bloom lividly.
She’s afraid of the dog, Dinah thought. She’s a scared little girl.
‘Ape, quiet. Sit now. Dead dog. He’s quite all right, Milly. Ugly but harmless, look.’
The dog subsided, sighing and panting. Dinah went to Milly and put her hand on her shoulder to reassure her, drawing her closer in a half-hug. Her fingers felt prominent bones through the layers of matted wool.
‘I hate dogs,’ Milly snapped.
‘So did I, as it happens. Ape belongs to the boys. Shall I cook you some brown rice? If that’s all you eat it’s no wonder you’re thin, but …’
Milly wrenched away from her. Her eyes glittered between the hanks of hair. ‘Why do you think you can touch me? What gives you the right to make personal remarks about me?’
An answering spurt of anger burned in Dinah for an instant. They looked at each other, barefaced, waiting.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Dinah. She dragged Ape away by the collar and shut him in the utility room. Milly trailed off into the den and watched a game show on television while Dinah cooked her food. She could see through the open door that Milly was curled up with her boots resting on the cushions.
When it was ready she ate the plain rice and then a banana, but she deflected all Dinah’s attempts at conversation while she did so. They finished the meal, picking at their opposing dishes in silence.
‘Shall we go out and see a movie?’ Dinah suggested when the plates had been cleared away.
Milly’s black mouth twitched with a suggestion of sarcastic amusement. ‘Thanks, but no. You go, if you want.’
‘I can hardly go out and leave you here alone, can I?’
She stared. Her eyes were black-painted and the lashes were thickly spiked with mascara. Dinah noticed for the first time the colour of her irises, a pale greenish hazel. ‘Why not?’
‘Because I told Sandra I’d look after you.’
Another shrug, dismissing her. ‘Well, okay. That’s between the two of you. I’m going upstairs.’
She went, closing the door with a snap. Dinah sat on at the kitchen table, listening to Ape lumbering about in the confined space between the washing machine and the boiler. She imagined that Milly would be sitting on the unfamiliar bed, arms wrapped around her knees. She wanted to go up and tap on the door, open it and slip into the room and perch on the bed beside her, to twist a blade between the clamped halves of Milly’s shell and prise it open so that the child could be reached.
Another voice, a colder tone of her own inner monologue warned her, it isn’t Milly who needs that. It’s you.
Dinah pressed her knuckle against her mouth. Her thoughts tipped sideways and away from her. Thetford. England. A house, probably on an estate somewhere. Another bedroom, a child’s room with animal posters and family photographs. Not her family.
The telephone rang. Dinah lifted it and heard Nancy’s voice.
‘Hi. Listen, Linda and Maria are coming over for a drink and a sandwich. We thought we might play a couple of hands of poker or something dumb like that. Want to join us since you’re a free woman?’
‘I can’t. I’m not. I’ve got Milly Parkes staying the weekend, Ed and Sandra have gone to LA.’
‘Sweet Jesus, rather you than me.’
Is this what I’d rather? Dinah wondered, as she hung up. Rather a clumsy attempt to bond with another woman’s child, who looks at me as if she despises me?
When she went up to bed the closed door of Milly’s room confronted her. She hesitated briefly and then silently eased it open. Milly was asleep, lying on her side with the covers pulled tightly up around her. Her face looked younger, smoothed out by sleep. There were streaks of black eyepaint on the white pillowcase.
In the morning Dinah was downstairs early. She loaded the washing machine and fed Ape, promising that she would take him out for a proper walk later. Perhaps Milly would want to come, and they could take one of the paths that led through the woods beside the Franklin river. It was another white-skied day, but perceptibly colder than it had been. Bare fingers of branches were beginning to show through the burst of fall colour, and waves of burnt-out leaves accumulated beneath the trees.
The morning crept on, until Dinah had done all her usual chores and found herself some extra ones as well. When she looked out into Kendrick she saw that most of the driveways were empty; everyone had gone off about their Saturday morning business. There was no sound from upstairs. The silence of the house began to oppress her. She felt confined and then, with a sudden clap within her head, anxious for Milly. Of course she couldn’t be asleep all this time. Something must be wrong.
She ran up the stairs two at a time and rapped on the closed door.
‘Yeah.’
Milly was sitting on the bed, fully dressed. Clearly she had been staring vacantly out of the window. Dinah wondered for how long. She had preferred to sit alone in an empty spare room rather than come downstairs and seek Dinah’s company.
The evaporation of her anxiety fuelled another spurt of anger,
