Felicity’s A5 cabriolet was already there – of course it was – with Hugo’s child seat jammed incongruously into the back. In her sister’s shoes, Julia would have swapped the car for something a little more practical, but Felicity’s priorities had always been different from hers.
Julia edged her Clio in next to the Audi and climbed out. The house was beginning to look a little shabby, she thought as she locked the car. It had always been more of a much-loved family home than a show-house, but now Julia noticed that the aged silvering tarmac was crumbling in places and the grass, which had previously been restricted to the edges of the drive, was now growing in a thin stripe up the middle. They should have a word with their parents about getting someone in to keep on top of the basic maintenance, or it would turn into a massive job when the time came to sell. The horror of selling the family home briefly did battle in Julia’s head with the practicalities of maintenance, but she shook the thought away. There was no need to think of selling yet. There was plenty of time left.
She walked up the drive, looking beyond the dandelions that poked through the ragged lawn like miniature Catherine wheels, and let herself into the house.
‘Hi,’ she called as she hung her keys on the hooks by the front door through force of habit.
Felicity had told her parents that the world was no longer as it had once been and that they must keep their door locked at all times and definitely not leave their keys where anyone could see them from outside.
‘And feel like a prisoner in my own home?’ their father had scoffed. ‘No. Let the burglars come. It’s not like we have anything worth stealing.’
That was probably true. The twenty-first century had largely left her parents untouched. Their television was ancient, their antiquated video recorder sitting beneath it, VHS tapes scattered around, each with a Post-it note attached saying what was currently on it. The tapes had been recorded over so many times that the pictures must surely wobble by now. Could you even buy VHS tapes any more? Julia had no idea – maybe she should investigate. The three of them had once clubbed together to buy their parents a new DVD player for Christmas but then Julia had found it in the garage some months later. It was still in the plastic packaging.
‘We’re in here,’ her father’s sonorous voice called from the sitting room.
He was sitting at the round table in the bay window, a jigsaw set out in front of him. He had his reading glasses on, his distance glasses perched on his forehead, giving the impression of two sets of eyes, rather like an alien. Bifocal, or, heaven forfend, varifocal lenses, were more than he could contemplate. Hugo was sitting opposite him, noise-cancelling headphones over his ears like mufflers and an iPad in his hand. He didn’t look up, so Julia assumed that he was unaware of her arrival.
Felicity was tapping furiously into her phone. ‘Just got to send this email . . .’ she muttered to no one in particular.
Julia strolled over to her father and planted a kiss on the top of his head.
‘Hi, Dad,’ she said. ‘How are you? Coping okay on your own?’
Felicity threw her a warning look, although Julia wasn’t sure what she hadn’t been supposed to say.
‘I’m getting along just fine, thanks, Julia, or I would be if I could just locate this piece. I’ve been hunting for it for three days now. I’m beginning to think that your mother’s hoovered it up.’
The front door banged again and the noise levels went up as lots of little voices rang through the house.
‘Only me,’ called Lily.
‘In here,’ Julia and her father chorused.
The twins Leo and Luca appeared first, sandy-blond heads that didn’t quite reach the door handle bobbing along together until they arrived at Julia’s side and each pressed themselves into one of her hips like a pair of slightly grubby bookends. Lily trailed behind her boys, the baby strapped to her chest by what looked like nothing more than a cotton scarf.
‘In here, please,’ she said to the remainder of her brood, but no more children appeared. ‘Okay, but don’t go near the road.’
The front door creaked open again and then slammed shut.
‘Hi, hi,’ said Lily, spinning her head from one side to another to spray her greeting at her collected family.
Julia felt a little burst of love for her twin, as she did each time they met. It was like an electrical impulse over which she had no control, but signalled that all was suddenly right with the world. Lily looked as wonderful as ever, her skin fresh and dewy and her china-blue eyes bright and clear. Whatever Lily had found to give her such deep contentment, Julia wished it could be bottled and sold by the gram.
‘Would you like some squash?’ her father asked the twins with a conspiratorial wink, and Hugo’s ears seem to prick up despite the headphones.
‘Yes, please,’ the twins chorused.
Felicity let out a sigh of exasperation. ‘Squash is so bad for them, Dad,’ she said, as though her parental duties extended as far as her nephews.
Lily shrugged. Her children existed mainly outdoors, tracking the movement of the sun across the sky by way of a timepiece and stopping only when hunger called them back in. A bit of sugary naughtiness would do them no harm from time to time.
‘Well, I can hardly give the twins some and not Hugo,’ their father stated reasonably.
‘Better not to have mentioned it at all then,’ replied Felicity under her breath, and then added, ‘Oh, all right. Just this once.’
Their father got to his feet, Julia noticing just a ghost of stiffness in his movements, and pointed his arm, sword-like, at the door.
‘Come on, troops! To the kitchen!’
The menfolk left, leaving the women alone.
Felicity spoke first, an urgency to her voice that suggested she wanted to get everything said before their father returned. ‘We need to find out what Mum is up to and how long she’ll be gone and then we can set up a rota between us to sort out his meals. You know how shocking he is in the kitchen and he can’t live off ready meals for more than a couple of days.’
Julia thought that he probably could and that many did, if her patients were anything to go by, but one of the advantages of all three of the Nightingale girls settling in their home town was that it was no problem to pop round in an evening with a little bit extra of whatever they had had for supper. In fact, she thought, it might be very pleasant to cook here sometimes, rather than at home, and share the meal with her father. She wondered idly why this thought had never occurred to her before and she made a note to suggest it to her mother when she got back from wherever it was that she’d gone.
‘Obviously, it’s going to be harder for me to drop everything, what with Hugo . . .’
Julia resisted the urge to glance at Lily.
‘But I can do my best. And things’ll be easier when Richard gets back tomorrow.’
Richard was away again, then? Sometimes Julia couldn’t help but feel sorry for her sister, not because her husband was away so often but because of how exhausting it must be to be so stoical about it. Felicity appeared to accept her husband’s absences as if they were a penance for some former misdemeanour, rather than an irritating fact of life.
‘Well, I’m just up the road,’ said Lily simply, ‘so it’s easy to pop by.’