She flicked on the television for the evening news. The friendly announcer, explaining things quietly. Today the pound rose and the dollar fell. The Bank of England announced that interest rates would go up. Fifty people died in a car bombing in the Middle East. A whole host of people left the planet, gone we know not where, and a whole host arrived. The TEMP remained unsolved. She changed channels and found a quiz show, a well-greased presenter with a fistful of cards. Two members of the public stood there, in their ordinary way. ‘Now, Wendy and David,’ said the host, smiling broadly, ‘we’ll have the Quick Fire question round. The Prize is waiting for you. Fingers on the buzzers. Are you both ready?’ ‘Yes, Dale.’ ‘Yes, Dale.’ ‘OK, Wendy and David, let’s play. Name two of the stars of the Hollywood blockbuster Titanic.’ Bzzzz. ‘Yes, David?’ ‘Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio.’ ‘Very good. Next question: who is now divorced from Brad Pitt?’ Bzzzz. ‘Wendy, I thought you might know that one!’ ‘Is it Jennifer Aniston, Dale?’ ‘Good! Next question: what are the two ways in which Hume claimed impressions come to us as ideas?’ Bzzzzzz. ‘Yes, Wendy?’ ‘Ideas of memory and ideas of imagination.’ ‘Good, good. What is the part of Kant’s treatise which is devoted to the necessary conditions for human sensibility called?’ Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. ‘Yes, David?’ ‘Oh, God I know this, I know this … Oh, the Transcendental Aesthetic!’ ‘Very good! Staying with Kant, what did Kant establish to contest the inescapable contradiction within any attempt to form “cosmical concepts”?’ Bzzzzzzzzzzzz. ‘Ah, Wendy you just got in there first. Yes?’ ‘Antinomies.’ ‘Very good Wendy! It’s neck and neck, now. So, last question. What the hell is going on?’ Silence. ‘I’ll repeat the question. What the hell is going on?’ Wendy and David, hands above their buzzers, paused and looked at one another. ‘Time’s up, both of you! Well, that was a shame. Neither of you gets this week’s prize, which was a luxury break in the Temple of Truth!’
As she surveyed the small debris of the evening, the sheets of paper she had stained with prose, the tablecloth stained with tea, she thought she had to get out of the city. It was making her skin crawl. She tidied everything up again, thinking of Jess and the key in the door and the disapprobation of her stare. It was only dignified to run. She thought of hills and trees and then she was trying to find a number, a number she suddenly needed. She went into her bedroom and searched her address book. She was well into her notebooks, flicking past notes of great age and certain irrelevance, but she still couldn’t find it. If she could just get out of the flat, she thought, if she could just get out before Jess came home. Then she saw the number scrawled on a piece of matchbox she had taped to a section of her address book, a section unrelated either to Will or Judy. There was the sound of a phone ringing through the rooms of a quiet cottage, and Rosa imagined Judy and Will out walking hand in hand across the fields, or chopping wood for the fire, or planting herbs in their kitchen garden. The phone rang for a long time, and then Judy picked it up, sounding breathless and happy.
‘Judy, it’s Rosa,’ said Rosa, waiting for feigned joy. But Judy seemed genuinely delighted to hear from her.
‘Rosa! How lovely! Where are you?’
‘In London,’ she said. ‘I was just sitting here wondering about taking a couple of days off, heading north. I thought I might come up to the Lakes. It would be lovely to see you while I’m there. I would stay in a B and B, of course, and I wondered if you had any suggestions.’
Judy started talking, her voice teeming with kindness. That was Judy all the way. Gracious, uncontrived. ‘Rosa, we’d really love it if you came. And you must come and stay with us! I know, the kids are absolutely everywhere. But you get used to them after a couple of days.’ She laughed slightly. Rosa joined in, weakly. ‘No no,’ she said. ‘I’d really love to see the children. But I shouldn’t impose. It’s so last minute.’
‘Oh, rubbish, we’ve masses of room. Really, I’d be horrified if you didn’t stay. Promise me you’ll come. When? Come as soon as you can. Come tomorrow!’ Judy was open and honest, as always. She was standing in a rural kitchen, a cake to her left, a row of pots and pans to her right. Rosa could see her there, patting a child on the head, a symbol of nurture and comfort. A healthy woman, with glowing skin, bright eyes, glossy hair tumbling onto her shoulders.
‘That’s really kind. Could I? Would that really be OK? I’d only stay a night.’ Would it? she wondered. And what would happen when she arrived? The giving of presents and the taking of tea. Walks on the fells. Children at her feet. It would only help. Certainly it would calm her, and while she was there she could apply for some more jobs, ring Liam about the furniture, explain things to Andreas. There was much she could usefully do.
‘Of course. We’re always doing the same things. Our house is so big we could lose you in it. Promise me you’ll pack for a few days, give yourself the option.’
‘Judy, that’s really kind. But I do have to get back to London. I have a lot to do.’
‘What is it you have to do?’ asked Judy.
‘Just detritus, but it’s very pressing.’
‘Can’t you do some of it here?’
‘Oh, you know, possibly. But thanks so much.’
‘Rosa, come on, surely a rest would be much better? Just give yourself a break. A few nights won’t make a difference, will it?’
Now, with Judy so generous and insistent, Rosa found she didn’t know what to do. That was the glaring question. The dilemma of the minute! Already breezing away into nothingness, but still, she was concerned about it. She wasn’t sure. She was still trying to excuse herself. ‘Well. I’ll do what you say. Pack for longer. But I’ll probably come back. Thanks very much. How are your kids? How’s Will?’
‘Oh, we’re all great. The kids are lovely. It’s mad and complete havoc, of course. Will is great. He loves them. So you’ll come tomorrow then. Stay until the weekend.’ Judy was sounding firm. She had sussed Rosa out; she understood it was only nerves that were making her reluctant. ‘You can work as much as you like.’
It was startling but Judy genuinely seemed to want her to come. That made Rosa so grateful that she gripped the phone and started nodding. ‘I don’t want to impose,’ she said. But it was clear that she would. ‘I’d really like to do that,’ said Rosa. ‘Perhaps I can help with the kids.’ She could hear her voice and it was thin and tinny. She coughed and tried to deepen it. ‘Thanks so much for offering, you modern-day saint,’ she said, trying to throw in a joke. Judy was kind as anything, but Rosa hadn’t spoken to her in a while. Thinking of it now she reckoned it must be nearly a year. Of course Judy had heard. She had heard everything. She had doubtless been informed that Rosa was crazy and sad. This made Rosa feel embarrassed, and she was thinking she really ought to decline everything, explain she had an appointment, couldn’t leave the city after all. Judy was still insistent.