lie. Had Gisele seen her standing there, staring up at the door like a crazy woman, as she’d glided the length of the straight long street? She could hardly have missed her. ‘I just . . . I just heard about Cunningham.’
Gisele started at the unfamiliar sound of her husband being called by his last name, but then her smile froze on her pretty face and an unassailable sadness flooded her eyes. ‘Yes, he’s . . . he’s gone to . . .’ The words trailed off, seemingly unsayable, as her shoulders heaved once, twice, and she struggled to hold back tears that Lee could see were ever-present. ‘. . . I’m sorry. Would you like to come in?’
Lee wanted nothing of the sort but it was clear she couldn’t let the poor woman cry on her own doorstep. ‘. . . Sure. Thanks.’
Gisele rolled her bike up the narrow ramp beside the steps and slid her key into the lock of the pristine door. Lee followed her into the smart hallway that was the opposite of her own. Dusty, creaky floorboards had been replaced with smart stone flags, a huge Christmas tree was already set up at the far end by the whorl at the bottom of the spiral staircase. And on the walls were beautifully framed images that sucked the air from the space and punched her in the guts. Her images. Tripoli. Gaza. Kabul . . . Moments captured from each. They were printed in black and white but she had personally lived through them in full colour, and it was that full palette in which she saw them now.
Gisele walked past unseeingly and took off her coat as Lee followed, dragging her gaze over each picture and hearing the whistling bullets, rumbling tanks and booming explosions which had accompanied those very moments that now hung in perfect monochromatic stillness and silence. In peace. Did Cunningham just breeze past them too – surely familiarity bred blindness – or did they take him straight back to those places, those moments?
Like her own house, the main living areas were on the first floor and they climbed the stairs to the kitchen. It was high-ceilinged and bright, an expensive mélange of pale grey-veined marble surfaces and white bespoke cabinets where everything was hidden behind smooth, push-release doors. Cunningham must hate it, Lee thought to herself; he was a fan of a sturdy doorknob. ‘When you need a door to open, you just need it to damn well open; I don’t want to have to hunt the damn thing down,’ he’d said once as they’d tried to find the concealed fridge in an apartment the Post had rented for them during an assignment in Tel Aviv.
‘Coffee?’ Gisele had recovered enough of her composure to force a smile again.
‘Love one, thanks,’ Lee replied, her gaze falling inevitably to the tight drum of Gisele’s stomach. She was carrying high and in front. Lee couldn’t remember what that signified. Boy? Girl? One of the two, anyway. ‘Congratulations, by the way! I heard the news. You must be so thrilled.’
Gisele looked down at her cylindrical belly, as though still surprised it was there. ‘Yes. Thank you, we are.’
We are. There was something territorial in the phrase.
‘So, how are you feeling? ’Cause you’re looking great.’ Lee gave a grimace at the forced jollity in her tone, well able to imagine the look Cunningham would have been shooting her, were he here. But he wasn’t, of course. He was 2,500 miles away.
‘You’re sweet to say that,’ Gisele smiled, glancing back at her as she popped a pod in the coffee machine. ‘But I’m like a water balloon. By the end of the day, my feet and ankles are like—’ She blew out her cheeks, trying to indicate grotesque oedema but only managing to look cute, like a kid holding their breath driving through a tunnel. ‘And then I’m getting restless legs at night. Sometimes I have to get up and just pace and pace. Which I suppose is easier in some respects, now Harry’s not here. He’s not a great sleeper at the best of times and I would worry about disturbing him—’
‘Yeah,’ Lee smiled politely, remembering how he had once fallen asleep standing up in the queue for a meal at a US military base in Raqqa.
‘—other hand, I’m up in the night and all on my own, so . . .’ She gave a tiny, vulnerable shrug.
‘Right, right,’ Lee nodded, only half hearing her. She