are to blame – or just a lack of appetite in general?’ As ever, Dita had a way of cutting straight to the chase.
Lee smiled, making no comment. They didn’t need to extrapolate on the difficulties of adapting to ‘civilian’ life – it didn’t need to be said; rather, it sat as a quiet understanding between them. ‘So how long are you in town for?’
‘I fly out tomorrow evening. I’m en route to Pyongyang.’
‘Wow, lucky you – you must have done something right.’
‘Yes, I’m in the good books at the moment.’ Dita laughed at her sarcasm, a throaty sound that caught the room’s attention, and eyes settled upon them, the two thin women with cat-startle reflexes, calloused hands and direct stares. ‘And I hear you’ve got an exhibition coming up.’
‘Did you? Where did you hear that then?’
‘Oh, a little bird told me,’ Dita said secretively.
‘It’s this Thursday,’ Lee said with a wry smile. ‘I’ll get you on the list if you can stay for it.’
‘I only wish I could.’
Lee nodded. She knew how it was.
‘So what’s it about? I’m guessing not a retrospective, or you’d have been in touch with us for archive pics.’
‘No. I’ve been visiting a women’s shelter for the past few months.’
‘Ha! Of course you have,’ Dita laughed, clapping her hands together.
‘Of course I have?’
Dita held her hands up, indicating their plush surroundings. ‘Even somewhere as beautiful and safe as this, you’ll manage to find a war on the doorstep.’
‘The war is on our doorsteps, you know that – refugees, migrant camps, assimilation issues . . . We live side by side with the consequences of war every day. Even here.’
‘I know. I just thought you’d turned your back on these harder subjects. No one could say you haven’t done your time at the coalface. I thought you were all about the glamour of glossy editorials these days.’
Lee rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll never be about that. But I’ve got bills to pay and a little boy to take care of now. He comes first.’
‘Well, I admire you for it. I know what a sacrifice it is for you.’ Dita smiled. ‘And how is my godson?’
‘Wonderfully wicked, you’ll be pleased to hear,’ she grinned. ‘He sent a cyclist into the water the other week, chasing pigeons.’ An echo of Sam’s laughter as he had read it out of his book flashed through her mind before she could stop it.
Dita gave one of her signature laughs again too. ‘Darling boy! Of course he did! Remind me, how old is he now?’
‘Five.’
‘Ah yes, well, I must get his Christmas present sorted.’
‘Oh don’t worry too much about that, you know I don’t like to go in for him getting too much stuff.’
Dita made a clucking sound. ‘What did I always say? You can take the girl out of the war zone . . . You still like to travel light, then?’
‘Travel light. Live light.’
‘I hope you’re not still sleeping on the floor?’
It was Lee’s turn to laugh. ‘I’ll have you know I transitioned back to beds quite a while ago now, thanks.’
There was a small, comfortable silence as the waitress came back with their breakfasts, Dita watching Lee with her keen gaze. ‘And no one special’s come along?’
‘Not that I’ve noticed.’ Lee spread her hands in a bewildered gesture, feeling another inward ripple of humiliation as Sam’s face drifted into her mind’s eye again and she recalled the shock of finding him in her studio yesterday morning. She smiled harder, banishing him from her thoughts. She would never see him again now. What did it matter?
Dita laughed again, shaking her head as she reached for her cup. ‘Oh Lee, you’re a tough nut to crack.’
Was she? Lee often felt she was the opposite of that.
‘And how’s Cunningham? You two talking yet?’ Dita asked lightly, sipping her coffee, but from the way her eyes flickered up to gauge Lee’s reaction to his name, she knew her old boss wasn’t asking after his health. She was digging. She wanted to know if Lee knew he’d gone.
‘Actually, I was hoping you could tell me,’ she said evenly, sitting back in the chair, elbows splayed over the arms. ‘Did you know he was going?’
‘Going?’
‘To Syria. Did you send him out there?’
Dita looked back at her, seeing that she knew, that bluffing was useless. She sighed. ‘No. I didn’t send him out there. But he did call me a few weeks ago, asking for me to arrange the paperwork to get him back in.’