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“Maa!” Geeta called out.

Satinder ambled into the kitchen after waving goodbye to Nicola, far too cheerily. What was up with her mother today?

“You can’t just walk into my house,” Geeta said, still not finished with the conversation.

“Why not?” Satinder asked. “Are you busy?”

“Maybe I am. Or having a lie-in. That’s the point. It might not be convenient.”

“And why are you sleeping so late on a Saturday morning?” Satinder gazed at her with deceptive nonchalance. Geeta knew that look, because she sometimes gave her son the same. “Hmm?” Satinder pressed.

Because she was rolling around in bed with Nicola Albright, that’s why. Was Geeta’s guilt blending suspicion into her mother’s eyes. Surely it was that.

“Olivia wanted to bring the kids round,” Satinder said, with that deceptively nonchalant gaze. “And when you didn’t answer your phone, she called me.”

Geeta side-eyed her mobile on the island, gave it a tap, and insistent notifications filled the screen. Dammit.

“What should I have done?” Satinder threw her hands in the air. “I can’t fit them in my flat. How am I meant to entertain a teenage boy? I don't know what they do, apart from watch silly videos all day. And I thought you enjoyed having company,” Satinder added.

She did.

“And surprises,” came another voice. Olivia sauntered into the kitchen, after settling the kids in the lounge.

Geeta narrowed her eyes and flicked from daughter to mother, and back to daughter.

“Hmm,” she grumbled.

Outflanked by introverts throwing her extrovert ways back at her.

“Hmm,” she said again.

The pair were more similar to each other than she to either. Both lawyers. Both very clever. And with a tendency towards grumpiness, although she was giving them a run for their money this morning.

Olivia tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

Satinder put hand on hip and did the same.

What was going on with these two? Geeta pointed at them and grumbled again.

“OK,” she relented. “What do you fancy for lunch? And it's lovely you’ve brought Bea and Ralph round. Thank you.”

And she smiled, because although she didn’t like being outwitted by these two, she adored company.

Olivia had specific food requests. Satinder waved her hand as if she was easy. She was not. But Geeta knew what she ate. Ralph looked as if he’d eat anything and everything in front of him. And Bea came with snacks packed in a compartmented lunchbox, the neat veg sticks cut with such precision only Olivia could have prepared them.

“Can I help?” Olivia asked.

“Thank you,” Geeta smiled.

Olivia didn’t cook much, but she appreciated the offer. Then Geeta frowned, surprised, at how often Olivia was there lately, as if quietly checking in on her, just when Geeta kind of avoided her.

“But you don’t have to,” Geeta added. “I’m only reheating a few frozen things and cooking roti.”

A smile softened Olivia’s face, which sent a pang straight through Geeta's heart, because her daughter might not look at her that way if Geeta talked to her properly.

“In that case,” Olivia said, “can I use the sewing kit?”

“Of course. It’s...”

But Olivia already bent down and reached into the end cupboard. She brought out the old tin from a box of cheese crackers one Christmas, which Geeta swiped for threads and needles. And here it still was, an old styling of a popular brand, many years later – one of the building blocks and familiar pieces of family Sachdeva.

It comforted her. A silly, bashed-up tin of reels, that her grown daughter, come home, found in the same place as decades before. But the poignancy cut both ways, Geeta unsure if she’d stay in this house after her part-time role at Bentley ended.

“Bea’s shirt has an annoying label that I want to sort for her,” Olivia said.

Like Geeta had done for Olivia growing up. Another comfort – Olivia bonding with Bea.

“OK,” Geeta said, beaming.

She couldn’t help the sentimental, full-to-brimming smile, the kind that sent Olivia running as a teen. It burst with glowing love, that had flooded Geeta at first sight of baby Olivia and had never really left.

But today, Olivia nodded happily, before turning on her heel and sauntering into the lounge.

Geeta popped her head around the corner a few minutes later. She found Olivia sitting on the sofa and sewing, the label of a T-shirt removed down to the threads and Olivia stitching back the hem. Young Bea snuggled close, watching the precision work, and Olivia turned to smile at her every so often. At the other end of the sofa, Satinder sat next to Ralph, all long limbs and deep guffaw. What was more surprising was Satinder’s chuckle. They belly laughed together at a design-fails video on the telly.

“Find me another one!” Satinder cried out.

Geeta pursed her lips hard, so she wouldn’t laugh out loud and disturb them.

She arranged lunch on the table. Piles of roti, kachumber salad, samosas reheated in the oven, jars of chutneys, and quick-fried chicken strips and potatoes in her favourite spice combinations. Everything she could lay her hands on.

She was about to call them through when someone knocked on the door.

“That’ll be Kate back from filming!”

Olivia burst from the lounge, and Geeta's elegant girl ran full pelt down the hallway.

Stunned, Geeta watched Olivia in her fitted black dress, running as if she threw off every care in the world. Not even as a teen did Olivia run to someone like that. Door thrown open, Kate stood outside with a polite expression on her face. But only for a moment, because once she saw Olivia, the sun and the stars came out all at once, and Kate threw her arms around Olivia’s shoulders and kissed her.

Besotted and so deeply in love, it bloomed in their faces. A match Geeta never imagined, but which seemed perfect.

Geeta had seen some of Kate’s films, but the actor never looked like that in any. She turned away, for privacy’s sake, and because she ached with complex feelings. Unbelievably happy for Olivia. And for Kate, who she found an extraordinary and considerate person. But she feared for them also.

Then sadness intruded, perhaps longing for something similar for herself. Was that possible for her, when she saw the least likely of people?

She breathed in.

“Lunch is ready!” Geeta called out, to shift herself from spiralling.

“Sorry,” came from behind in a mellow voice. “Olivia says we’ve sprung this on you.”

Geeta turned around to Kate, who gave her an easy hug.

“I’m so happy she brought the kids round,” Geeta said, genuinely now, the house filling with life. “We should do this more often.”

Kate leant closer and kept her volume subtle. “I think Olivia’s been checking in on you but also giving you space.”

“Oh.”

Her girl again, thinking of her, not avoiding her.

“Well,” Geeta tried to shrug it off. “She must come round more frequently. Although...” She was going to blush. And flush. “A bit of warning would be nice.”

“Uhuh.”

Kate’s face dropped into seriousness, a kind of hammy version, so that Geeta knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Because,” Kate added, “I imagine you need the right food in, depending on who visits.” Kate nodded with great sincerity.

Ice cream. Geeta thought of ice cream. On breasts. Nicola’s breasts.

Oh god, her cheeks roasted.

“Erm...yes...exactly.”

Fuck.

The doorbell rang once more, and her shoulders slumped. Who the heck was that now?

“I’ll let you get that.” Kate grinned and disappeared into the lounge.

Geeta re-trod her steps towards the front door, again. At least it gave her an excuse to run away from Kate’s grin. Geeta always tried to find the silver lining.

She opened the door to a tall, familiar figure stood outside, and this time her appearance made all the tension disappear into the air.

“So,” Nicola started, with tousled hair and a plate balanced on a high hand. Her bewildered eyebrows lifted. “I baked a cake.”

Geeta burst out laughing at the lovely, relentless company and at Nicola standing at the door with an offering of cake and sugar in her hair. She stepped outside and reached up, pausing a moment, the urge to kiss her overwhelming. Nicola dipped her head, as if drawn by the same temptation, and they gazed at each other, the regard palpable.

“Little bit of icing here,” Geeta murmured.

She indulgently stroked the white dusting from Nicola’s forehead and brushed it from her hair.

“Would you and your cake like to come in?” she said gently, tempted to sneak a kiss on Nicola’s pink lips.

“At this point,” Nicola whispered, “I’ve no idea what's going on. Just tell me what to do.”

Geeta sighed. “Same.”

They looked at each other again, Geeta sure she projected the same exasperated longing apparent in Nicola.

“Come and have lunch,” Geeta said. “Let me take...goodness, this looks delicious.”

She took the plate of brittle-caramel-covered cake and held it close to admire. Two layers of nutty sponge sandwiched together with, if she wasn’t mistaken, coffee butter icing.

“I thought,” Geeta narrowed her eyes, “you didn’t cook.”

“You’ve seen the full extent of my culinary skills now. Hazelnut torte is the only thing I remember baking as a teenager. Oh.” Nicola stopped. “I’ve just realised it’s lethal. My mother took it everywhere when I was young. Do you have any allergies in the household?”

“No.” Geeta laughed. “Your cake can safely come in.”

Then she breathed in through her teeth.

“Although Kate is here, armed with A-list insinuation and innuendo. So be warned.”

Nicola smirked, admiring Geeta up and down, her head perhaps going where Geeta’s had earlier with ice cream.

“For example, don’t encourage her by looking at me like that.”

“Understood.” Nicola nodded.

Geeta breathed in. “Let’s do family lunch.”

***

Kate and Olivia sat on either side of six-year-old Bea. Bumble Bea, Kate called her.

Ralph perched further round, eating everything near him. Then Nicola and white-haired Satinder next, who talked to Nicola about the parliamentary working group she advised.

Geeta watched them all, astonished. She also flagged badly from her rollercoaster evening and morning, so when Satinder and Nicola fell deeper into law talk, she drifted a little.

“You’re glazing over,” her mother said beside her.

“Sorry.” Geeta twitched to. It had been a late night, but she couldn’t say that. “Not my subject. It goes over my head.”

“That's ironic,” Satinder replied. “Because you’re the reason I studied law.”

“What?”

Satinder drew back her head and considered her with a smile. “You inspired me to study.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” Satinder patted her knee. “When you got into grammar school, I thought maybe I’d get a degree if my girl was so clever. So, I picked law.”

“I thought you had more spare time when I was older.”

“No.” Satinder grew taller, her chin tilted high. “Inspired by my clever daughter.”

Geeta hadn’t realised. Things even got past her. Always observant, she spotted far more than Adam and Olivia suspected growing up, and here was her own mother, surprising her in turn.

“And perhaps, you’re now inspired by your clever girl,” Satinder grinned.

What?!

“Excuse me?”

Satinder chuckled. “I’ll put the kettle on.” And she heaved herself to her feet.

Geeta did not feel on top of the situation. Usually, she kept one step ahead of everyone. Not today. She closed her eyes, head swimming with fatigue and the current taking her where it wanted. She didn't cope with late nights anymore, even when those nights were fantastic.

Chairs shuffled and people got to their feet.

“I’d better tidy up,” she said, blinking.

A hand rested warm on her shoulder. Olivia. Then another gently squeezed the other side. Kate.

“We’ll sort it.”

“That was delicious, thank you.”

And when she looked up, Ralph helped Satinder with cups of tea and Nicola sliced up cake. Bea ran around the garden outside in sunshine and safely in view.

Geeta suddenly had to swallow, hard, over the lump in her throat. Her heart and home were full. Of surprises. Of people she didn’t expect. Of people she thought would never return. And others she was lucky were still here. From padding lonely around the empty house when Sumit left, her son abroad, and Olivia absent. To this.

Olivia, finding her own family and bringing them here.

Her own mother, her very annoying mother, healthy and strong.

And Nicola. Oh, my goodness. Geeta covered her mouth and turned away. It was as if Nicola blended in already, a part of this, because in different ways she’d been there for years.

She blinked back the tears and clenched her jaw, not wanting to sob. Life played with her, surely, and she dropped her hand over an aching chest.

Needing to evade attention, she stepped through the sliding doors into sunshine and breathed out. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the last of the summer sun, new phases and old history mixing in terrifying ways that she didn’t know how to manage.

She still stood reeling, when a small hand slipped into hers.

“Bea,” she said, surprised when she glanced down.

The girl stared at her with a serious frown pinching her little eyebrows.

“Nani Geeta?”

Geeta almost burst out laughing, or crying – she wasn’t sure which would win – at the girl’s earnest expression and that she called her Nani. It must be how Olivia and Kate started referring to her.

“Where’s Olivia’s den?”

“Den, Sweetheart?”

“She said she used to hide in it.”

“Ah, that one. It broke.” Years ago. “Shall I show you where it was?”

Bea nodded and started walking, tugging Geeta with her.

“Can we build a new one?” Bea asked.

“I...” Could they? Would Geeta afford her house long enough? “I suppose so. We might as well start.”

What else would she do?

They walked down the slope, hand in hand, to bushes by the river. They spent the next hour crawling around on hands and knees, in the large shrub that had grown enormous since Olivia was young. It had a natural cavern inside once Bea and Geeta cleared dead branches from beneath. And Geeta sat in the centre, covered in dirt, while Bea who wasn't keen on dirt sat on Geeta’s knee.

“Will this do for now?” Geeta said, more positive and reinvigorated by the outdoor activity.

Bea nodded, and they both gazed up through the branches, hidden away, to the blue skies above.

“You having fun in there?” Kate, on all fours, peered in with a grin.

“Come inside, Mummy!”

Bea’s spatial awareness mustn’t be the best, the space too small, but Kate shuffled in anyway and sat snug next to Geeta.

“I’m going to get Olivia too!” Bea cried and crawled out before either stopped her, and she scampered towards the house.

Kate looked at Geeta. Geeta looked at Kate. She guessed the two of them were used to being dragged then abandoned in random places by young children.

“By the way,” Kate started. “The other day...”

Geeta shot a warning glare. A tired warning glare.

“I won't make you uncomfortable by mentioning anything...” Kate swirled her hand around. “But I forgot to invite you to the premiere.”

“Oh?”

“The film I shot last year in Oxford is having an outdoor premiere at the Sheldonian. Do you fancy an invitation?”

Geeta laughed. This was the thing with Kate. One minute attending glamorous premieres, the next coming home to kids and crawling around in dirt under hedges. Literally, at this moment, a down-to-earth celebrity.

“Thank you. That’s very exciting. I’d love to. I’ll dig out something fancy to wear.”

“And,” Kate drew out, in a suggestive high pitch. “It’s a plus one.” She raised her eyebrows and pouted her lips.

“Uhuh.” Geeta glared at her.

“So you could bring someone?”

“Hmmhmm.”

“Someone like...” Kate lifted her shoulders and made a theatrical pretense of mulling over the possibilities. “Nicola?”

Geeta glared some more. As if that did any good.

“Just a thought.” Kate added.

Geeta breathed in. “Thank you. And I’ll think about it.”

Kate grinned.

Geeta tried to glower, but damn it if she didn’t find Kate charming. “Stop it.” She pointed.

Kate made a motion to zip her lips, but sparkling eyes said it all.

***

Everyone stayed late, the spread of food and Nicola’s cake gone by the end of the day.

Geeta stood at the front door waving goodbye, Kate driving her family home and giving Satinder a lift to her flat. Satinder’s white hair sat between Bea’s blonde and Ralph’s towering brown in the back of the car.

She quietly closed the door and turned to Nicola, who waited.

“You OK?” Nicola asked.

“Tired,” she sighed.

Non-committal, she knew. Because the day together raised questions. Like who they should tell. And exactly what they were to each other. But Nicola didn't push for answers.

“Will you stay?” Geeta whispered. “Sit with me and have a drink by the river?”

“Of course. I’d love that,” Nicola murmured.

And the look she gave. That was going to be the end of Geeta. It reached inside and asked for her heart and offered her own.

Nicola came closer. “Shall we tidy up, then put lights out at the end of the garden?”

Geeta nodded, because she couldn't speak.

Then Nicola cleared the last plates away. Set the dishwasher running. The small things she did automatically that mounted bigger and bigger.

They sat by the river at dusk, in the soft light of solar lamps, and live music floated up the waters from the countryside Isis pub.

She sensed Nicola gazing at her, the attention and admiration gently tactile. Then soft fingertips reached out and smoothed the tension from her brow with a caress. She turned to find the most intensely tender smile on Nicola’s face and her breath was gone.

Smooth as oil, Nicola rose and took her hand. They slipped into hold and danced on a warm summer evening, in Iffley Village, by the calm waters of the Thames tributary. Geeta buried herself in Nicola, the scent of vanilla, spices and caramel no longer surprising. She held their hands to her chest as they swayed together. One of the most romantic moments in her life. And it was with this woman.

Geeta gazed at Nicola and knew all the things that burned in her eyes. And she kissed her, for kissing’s sake. To say that she felt close to her. Wanted her more than ever. Then dancing again and smiling. And she bathed in the way Nicola watched her, as if she were the centre of the universe.

“Stay the night,” Geeta said.

“We can just sleep.”

But they didn’t, because they couldn't stop kissing. She never felt closer to anyone in that intense moment, impossible to feel closer, in a visceral mixing of blurred souls.

And the catastrophic start to the day bloomed into something beautiful, and her loveliest day in years.