Leah picked up the necklace and held it up. ‘Wow, Gran – it’s awesome. Incredible.’
‘Try it on then.’
Marianne watched as Leah put the necklace on; she had cut her hair since Marianne had last seen her and at shoulder length it suited her better. As Leah fastened the clasp and lifted her head Marianne felt a choke in her throat – she knew that this was the last time she would ever see Leah, but it wasn’t just that: there was something about the girl’s eyebrows, that suggestion of a curl at the outer edge, and those piercing blue eyes that brought back Izzy so strongly… She remembered when Izzy had tried on the necklace at the same age. It came over Marianne suddenly and with such violence that she couldn’t help herself; tears began to roll down her cheeks.
Leah looked alarmed. ‘Are you OK, Gran?’
She nodded and put out her arms as Leah knelt to hug and thank her. Marianne held on to her as long as she could – perhaps longer than was quite seemly – but Leah was also clinging tightly to her. Gently Marianne pushed her away. ‘You remind me so much… you’re so like her – Isabelle – your real grandmother,’ she said, reaching for a handkerchief to blow her nose. ‘Now go and get your father off the telephone and we’ll have some tea before you leave.’ As Leah got to her feet, Marianne noticed that she also seemed close to tears. Perhaps she does know, she thought. I wonder if Callum told her?
Jake had spent the afternoon in his office reviewing all the material they had gathered on postal voting. He was about to leave the office when his phone buzzed with a message. Leah needed to talk to him urgently – could he stay at the office till she got there? Since the evening when Leah had stormed out of his flat, they had maintained a self-consciously formal relationship in the office, occasionally discussing Marianne but avoiding all mention of the theatre and its aftermath. Jake was not expecting to see Leah that evening. He knew she had gone to Cambridge with her father to see Marianne, and Leah knew that he had a longstanding arrangement to see a new film with Gemma, an old friend from Bristol. Jake’s friendship with Gemma had developed from the university film club and a shared enthusiasm for French New Wave cinema of the 1960s, which no one else in their circle could be bothered with. Pretentious philosophical waffle, his friends thought, but Jake confessed to a weakness for those evenings of delicious melancholy and those ‘lost girls with greasy hair’, as some critic had memorably described a certain period of French cinema. The film they were due to see that evening – though apparently quite violent – was billed as homage to Chabrol and other film makers of the sixties and seventies.
Jake was reluctant to stand up his old college soulmate and sent a text back to Leah asking if it was important and reminding her that he was booked to go to the movies with an old friend. The message came back: ‘fucking is – Gran definitely going for AD – Dad just confirmed – we’ve got to do something.’
Jake sat back in his chair. He realised it must be nearly six months since he had seen Marianne. He would need to visit her before it was too late. Once the initial moment of shock had passed, Jake felt a more general sadness, but also some irritation with Leah. Reluctantly he confirmed that he would wait for her and then called Gemma to explain why he had to pull out at short notice.
The large open-plan office in Covent Garden where Jake worked was half empty by the time Leah arrived. As a temporary intern she had her own pass and suddenly he realised she was standing beside him, pouring out her distress and anger in a confused and confusing torrent of words. Jake swiftly closed down his screen, took her by the arm and led her out towards the lifts. ‘People are still working, Leah. Let’s go somewhere we can talk.’
By the time they had found their way to the corner of a basement bar, Jake had deduced that Leah’s anger was largely because she felt she had been treated like a child. ‘I was not supposed to know so I couldn’t, like, say anything. Then Gran gave me this incredible necklace and started to be all, like, emotional – but I couldn’t say a fucking word to her, even though that might be the last time I will ever see my grandmother. I mean, Dad admitted afterwards it was her way of saying goodbye to me – can you believe it? – but no one gave me the chance to say anything…’
‘I suppose it’s hard for her…’
‘…and Dad’s so bloody calm about it – as if it’s just a detail that his mum’s going off to kill herself.’
‘Did he give you any clue why…?’
‘No, that’s the point. There doesn’t seem to be any reason for it. No terminal illness, just, just… well, nothing.’
Jake reached across the table and put his hand on her arm. ‘I’m really sorry about this – I love her too, but I know she’s your grandmother, not mine.’
‘We need to do something…’
‘I’ll speak to my grandmother Claire – she’ll know what’s going on for sure.’
‘We have to think of a strategy. I need you on my side.’
‘I am on your side.’
‘I’m glad,’ she said, and gave his hand a squeeze.
Half an hour passed in discussing what they knew of Marianne’s circumstances before Jake said, ‘Another drink? Or do you want to come back to my place and I will cook you something?’
Leah looked at him sceptically. ‘Back to your flat?’
‘Yes.’
Leah paused. ‘I’ll come if you promise to treat me as an adult.’
‘I’ve never… well, of course, yes – I promise.’
‘No more talk about your so-called responsibility to my parents?’
‘Fine.’
‘And no more talk about age and cousins or any of that shit?’
‘Not a word.’
The meal which Jake had promised did not get cooked. They were barely inside the door when they started pulling at each other’s clothes. On this occasion neither held back and before long they were tottering half undressed onto Jake’s bed.
Afterwards, as he lay on his back with Leah’s head on his chest he realised he must have fallen asleep. He knew he had been too quick for her and now he could feel her hand exploring the contours of his stomach. Slowly she traced a finger down the slope of his chest to his flat abdomen – no six-pack but a firmness which suggested sufficient muscularity. Pausing at the neat circle of his belly button, she traced a wide arc down one leg to the extremity of her reach, coming to rest on the inside of his thigh. For a few seconds, she stroked both thighs before bringing her hand up between his legs.
Jake lay still, enjoying the attention. As his state of arousal increased, he moved Leah onto her back and started kissing her breasts. She shut her eyes as his kisses moved down her body. For a few seconds he felt her tense as his tongue probed between her legs. Although she had remained silent in their first encounter, when his tongue reached the right place she let out a small involuntary cry. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘just there.’ Later she muttered, ‘Don’t stop,’ as well as, ‘Oh shit,’ and, much louder, ‘Fucking beautiful,’ and other obscenities which would have caused Jake to smile, if smiling had been possible at that time.
Much later, when calmness had returned to both of them, Jake asked her whether anyone had done that to her before.
‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ she said. ‘The boys expect us to do it to them, but we don’t get it back.’
‘Sounds a bit selfish.’
‘That’s why I like having an older man,’ she whispered, biting his ear lobe.
Later, while Leah was taking a bath, Jake called his mother and discovered that she had heard the same news about Marianne from Claire the day before. ‘It’s all rather a mystery, darling,’ she said. ‘No one seems to know what’s suddenly triggered this.’ When he called Claire himself, she was brusque and to the point. ‘I’m glad you’ve telephoned. Come over tomorrow evening. I may have a task for you. I’ll expect you at seven.’