He looked up at the ceiling, noticing the delicate tendrils of cut-leaf plasterwork as if for the first time. ‘I’ll sleep when I’ve got my family back. Then I can rest.’
He felt Nina watching him. It was like being stared at by a witch’s cat; there was intensity to the gaze. Weight.
‘Hmm. And how is it going with Hanna?’
‘You mean, now I know she’s got another family? How d’you think?’ Nina didn’t reply, but he saw the pity in her eyes, and he looked away quickly. ‘I was able to get my point across to her about rebuilding my relationship with my son. She understood that.’
‘Did she? And did the words “custody” or “court” come up at all, or was she just entirely obliging, acting from the goodness of her heart?’
‘Don’t be a bitch, Nina.’
She sucked in through her teeth. ‘I don’t know why you’re so determined to defend her. You didn’t have to sit by and watch on for seven years as she got on with playing happy families with another guy, whilst your favourite brother was lying comatose in a bed.’
‘No, because I was the lucky bugger lying comatose in the bed . . . And I’m your only brother, by the way.’
She winked at him again, and this time he smiled.
‘You never liked her. Even before the coma.’
‘That’s not true. I just don’t trust a woman who moves on to her boyfriend’s friends.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘That was all a very long time ago, and they were never serious.’
‘Hmm, I wonder if that’s how he saw it? What was his name again?’
‘Liam. And he was cool. He came to our wedding, for chrissakes.’
‘A lot of people went to that wedding,’ Nina groaned. ‘I was surprised not to see my old maths teacher there.’
He grinned in spite of himself. ‘Just admit it, Nina – you never liked her.’
‘I will not.’
‘Name one thing, then, that you liked about her. One thing.’
‘Oof.’ It was Nina’s turn to stare up at the ceiling, her eyes tracing the delicate whorls of plasterwork relief. She was quiet for a long time. ‘Well, she dresses well. She has good taste,’ she said finally.
‘You don’t care about taste. You said people who care about fashion are cretinous husks with no souls.’
‘When did I say that?’ she gasped.
‘After the couture shows, when Mamma took you to Paris for a dress for your eighteenth and you were stuck next to that woman at dinner who had frozen her face and kept asking for champagne for her pug.’
She threw her head back and laughed at the memory, her shoulder-length dark hair shining in the sunlight. ‘Oh yes! I did say that, didn’t I? How on earth do you remember these things?’
‘The one good thing about a traumatic brain injury – long-term memory recall. They never broadcast these things, you know. They only ever present the downsides of comas, giving them a bad rap, but things from years ago feel to me like they happened yesterday.’
Nina laughed harder, and he chuckled with her. He had to laugh or he’d cry.
‘And things that happened yesterday?’ she asked, when she’d recovered. It was a serious question, they both knew.
He shrugged. ‘Touch and go. But getting better, I think. The doc’s suggestion of keeping a journal has helped.’
‘But you haven’t remembered anything about the ac—?’
‘No.’ He cut her off quickly. ‘Nothing.’
She nodded, staring at him as she took another sip of her tea, her eyes roaming over him like a sniper’s rifle dot.
‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Nothing. It’s just always nice to see you . . . awake. Something of a novelty still.’ She smiled and gave him another wink. ‘You’ll have to indulge me, little brother.’
They finished their tea and returned the cups to the tray.
‘So are you ready, then?’ she asked, getting up.
‘For what?’
‘Introducing me to my long-lost nephew and your wild, half-naked nanny who doesn’t know her boundaries.’
‘It’s not funny.’
Nina pointed to her deadpan, severe expression. ‘Do you see me laughing?’
Old-fashioned games: they never failed. They could turn adults – and worse, teenagers – back into kids again. The cereal game had helped break the ice first off. As Linus and his big, cool cousins had eyed each other in wary silence, she had asked the kitchen staff for a box and proceeded to set it on the ground.
‘Pick it up with no hands,’ she had instructed, watching as the teenagers, bored and having seen it all, casually dipped