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“So, Trisha, do you know George’s brother?” Alice continued to speak slowly, judging that it might be the best approach.

“Oh yes, Bernie,” she said, filling a jug at the sink and watering the already-saturated plants.

“And Juan?”

“Lovely Juan, Bernie’s husband. He comes from Spain, you know?”

“Yes, I heard… and, er, have Bernard and Juan been in touch recently?”

Alice glanced at Maggie’s frowning face, choosing to ignore her as she mouthed, “What are you doing?”

Trisha dried the water jug and put it away. “Oh no, we don’t see much of them. They live in London. I come by here when George goes to visit. I keep an eye on things. But, most importantly, I take care of his Pyglet.”

“What, he has an actual piglet?”

Trisha laughed and gave a funny little snort, which actually resembled that of a piglet. “No, no. Pyglet’s a dog, of course.”

“Of course,” Alice grinned, flicking her eyes to Maggie.

“Pyglet doesn’t strictly belong to George. She’s a stray, a free spirit. George found her, and he named her too. At first, I said, ‘that’s a strange name for a dog’, but George insisted and it’s stuck.”

Maggie glared at Alice and tipped her head towards the front door. Alice nodded.

Trisha continued to potter around the kitchen, lost in an invisible list of chores. “Although Pyglet seems to spend more time at mine than here. She has a dog flap, so she comes and goes as she pleases.” Trisha chuckled.

“I see. Well, shall we get that phone charger, Trisha?”

“Oh yes.” She held up a plump finger and charged forward with it in the air, like it was a jousting stick. “Right this way.”

17

IT'S COMPLICATED

George sat in the armchair by the wide hospital window. Dappled sunlight filtered through the budding leaves of the tree outside and danced in patterns across his face.

“Hey, how’re you doing?” Alice asked quietly, not wanting to startle him.

George turned and his face crumpled into a smile. “Ah, it’s both of you! That’s what I like to see.”

Alice tried to suppress her grin as she sideways-glanced at Ash, who was seemingly oblivious to George’s teasing, or else just ignoring it.

“I popped by your house, like I said I would.” Alice swung a small brown holdall onto the end of the bed which, with the help of Trisha, she’d packed a few things into — fresh clothes, clean pyjamas, slippers, reading glasses, a well-worn sudoku book and, most importantly, the phone charger.

George smiled. “You really are an angel, you know that?”

Ash nudged her arm. “I’ve been trying to tell her that.”

George gave Alice a sparkly-eyed look and she bit down on her grin.

“You didn’t warn me about your neighbour.”

“Ah, you had the pleasure of meeting Trisha?” George raised his bushy eyebrows and smiled. “Her heart’s in the right place, and she makes a wonderful pork casserole.”

“And co-parents your dog, by the sounds of it,” said Alice.

He chuckled. “Pyglet is a free spirit. She comes and goes as she pleases.”

“So I’ve heard.”