Tina was still standing there, drilling her frustration into the wall, when she felt Bette’s arms around her. Her lips gentle against Tina’s cheek as she swayed her a little. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

Tina didn’t reply, just closed her eyes and somehow found yet another teaspoonful in her well of forbearance. The feel of Bette’s arms, stronger than ever, was like plugging into a charger. Grateful tears welled, and when she half-opened her eyes everything was a blur of sparkles. She blinked, and her gaze came into focus on the wall planner. Today’s date, Monday 5th October, the first day in a run of forty that wasn’t edged in red. 

***

In Dana’s cafe in Silver Lake, Angie looked over her earthmother’s shoulder and saw Uncle Shane walk in looking like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet.

Alice turned to see where she was looking. 

‘Whoa,’ she said as Shane slid onto a stool.

Her hair – incredibly – looked unwashed, her eyes puffy, and her chin had broken out. She must’ve seen how they were looking at her because she just said, ‘Don’t.’

‘Don’t what?’ asked Alice.

‘Ask me how my weekend was.’

‘How was your weekend?’ Shane glared at her. The penny dropped. ‘Oh, that was one whole sentence. Got it.’

She snapped her fingers and the little dog on her lap – a Yorkshire terrier named Joan Didion – yelped. Angie knew it would, but she still winced.

‘So, what happened?’ Alice went on. ‘I thought you were with Hannah.’ 

‘I was, for about five minutes. Fucking Delta lost my reservation from Atlanta, so I got to BC via Dallas. And then she was pissed at me, so, y’know . . .’ 

‘Didn’t get any?’

Shane glanced uneasily in Angie’s direction.

‘Seriously?’ said Alice. ‘She’s, like, thirty.’

‘Twenty-three,’ Angie corrected, just as Ruby, a beautiful young server, placed an espresso in front of Shane.

‘Thank you.’ Shane smiled a weary, and very charming, smile. Ruby flashed one in return and walked away, glancing back over her shoulder.

‘Oh my God,’ said Alice. 

‘What?’

‘Are you shtupping the help?’

‘What?’ 

Alice leaned in and whispered, ‘Are you fucking her?’

‘No!’ Shane blew on her coffee, then: ‘But what if I was? We’re open, so . . .’ She looked at Angie. ‘How’s school?’