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Early morning, and Geeta waited behind the reception desk with nervous hope. She glanced toward the front door with every footstep in the street.

She knew Nicola had talked to Charlotte and they had spent the evening together, but not much more than that. Nicola phoned late at night and said she was out to Charlotte, and there was hurt, and lots to talk over. But optimism lifted her voice. Geeta desperately wanted to hug them both.

Charlotte arrived. Geeta sat up, ready to do whatever she needed.

A darkness haunted Charlotte's eyes, tired, but not weighed down. She hesitated, as if not knowing which way to turn, then finally approached the reception desk. Cheeks pink, eyes darting to Geeta, then down and away, thoughts clearly leaping around, like Geeta suspected they often did. And she waited patiently.

A tentative smile bloomed on Charlotte's face. “Morning,” she whispered. That was all, and she went upstairs.

Geeta breathed out. She had no idea what Nicola had shared with her, but maybe everything would be OK.

Later in the morning, she heard familiar footsteps, slower than usual, but she wouldn’t mistake them for anyone else. Nicola could have walked straight past, as a frequent visitor, but she approached, fatigue hanging in her face but stride confident.

“I’m here to see Alec,” she said, her powerful voice announcing her presence to the building.

Then she looked around, and wordlessly, carefully, handed over a long, white card box.

Geeta took it.

Surprise and Nicola’s silence stopped her from saying thank you.

Light in her hands. What was it? She smiled, the surface pleasingly smooth in her fingers. She stroked the length of it, then placed it on the desk and tipped the lid open. A burst of fragrance reached her first, then revealed a single dark red rose, lying in the box on white tissue paper.

She stared at it. A small thing, beautifully formed, with natural imperfections pleasing to the eye. She blinked and stared again to check it was really there. That Nicola Albright KC had given her a flower. It was like a manifestation of Nicola herself: tall, magnificent, stunningly beautiful, with thorns that caught everyone. Laid out for her as if she'd given herself.

Geeta glanced up, limbs twitching and wanting to leap up and throw her arms around Nicola. But an odd restraint kept her in her seat.

Normally Nicola would send her a delicious, sexy look, then stride up the stairs. But this time was different. She stood, shoulders strong, her eyes communicating a host of things: I am here, I want you, with openness. So, you can see everything.

Nicola’s vulnerability possessed an irresistible gravity, so powerful it almost pulled Geeta to her feet without thinking. And she feared that. They gazed at each other, the gap between them an impossible mix of need and restraint. Until Nicola slowly blinked and offered a gentle smile.

“I hope everything goes well with Olivia this afternoon,” Nicola murmured.

The change of subject dispelled expectation, another reprieve which Nicola always conjured when moments stepped beyond Geeta’s comfort zone.

Neither said another word, and Nicola left, leaving Geeta shaken, and she didn’t know why.

***

Late afternoon, Geeta got ready for her break with Olivia, who had a client cancel the last session. She took a deep breath as she dropped her phone into her shoulder bag. She planned a first step with her daughter. No further than that. But she was determined to walk towards her now.

“Ready?” Olivia said.

She stood by the reception desk, elegant in a long black coat today. Just her appearance there was enough to make Geeta smile.

“Where would you like to go?” Olivia asked.

“Shall we stroll towards the Covered Market?” Geeta suggested, beaming.

Because Olivia sometimes talked more when she walked.

Olivia nodded, and they set off to the centre of town along Broad Street.

“Look at the leaves!” Geeta said.

She pointed to diamonds of gold on the silver birch outside Trinity Gardens, and the ivy on the cottages turning crimson, the beautiful autumn light making Oxford glow. She babbled to herself like this when the kids were tiny, pointing out every single detail. It was the kind of chatter that usually prickled her daughter. But instead, Olivia indulged her with a subtle smile today.

“Shall we grab a coffee in Gulp Fiction?” Geeta suggested. “Then you can pick up a book too?”

“Hmm,” Olivia replied lightly. “I haven’t had much time for reading recently.” Then, as if she spotted the flicker of worry in Geeta, she added, “I'll buy something today,” and the smile softened again.

The small store in the Covered Market was quiet mid-afternoon, early in autumn, and they cosied up at a table in the corner of the cafe bookshop.

Olivia sipped the tea. “Adequate,” she concluded.

Geeta smiled at the high praise from her perfectionist daughter. They sat quietly, and she scanned the shelves for her own curiosity and for something neutral to talk about first.

“I’m moving in with Kate.”

“Oh.” Geeta snapped her gaze to Olivia. “That’s wonderful news!” She couldn’t hide her delight.

“I mean officially, because I spend most nights there now,” Olivia added.

“That is...”

Amazing. Wonderful. A worry. She didn’t want to say too much.

Olivia hesitated, as if carefully forming something significant.

“We’re decorating the small room on the top floor. We've moved a desk in there and my sofa.”

A quiet hideaway, Geeta recognised. A den, just like Olivia needed at the bottom of the garden, or in Sumit’s study.

“How lovely,” Geeta said.

She heard the effusive relief in her own voice, and pursed her lips, to stop herself from saying too much. Let Olivia come to her. Let her say what was comfortable.

“It’s for when I need to work,” Olivia started. “Or need a quiet space.”

And she looked at Geeta with meaning, acknowledging that a quiet, predictable space was essential for her.

“Actually,” Olivia added, “Bea loves it as well, and tucks herself in there.”

They both laughed.

“She’s...” Geeta started, forgetting herself. Don’t say too much.

“...Very like me,” Olivia finished for her. “We share many traits.”

The words disappeared from Geeta’s mouth. There. At last. An acknowledgment. This was how Olivia worked, and she knew what she needed to thrive.

“I’d wondered,” Geeta said.

She wanted to reach out and hug her daughter tight but stopped herself. Olivia rarely wanted that from her. Geeta waited, hoping Olivia would say more.

When she didn’t expand, Geeta said instead, “I’m so glad you’ve found Kate.”

A sob threatened in her voice. If she heard it crack, then so would Olivia, who’d hate that. Geeta took a deep breath. “You’re so considerate of each other.”

That sob rose again. She had to bite her lip to hold in the profound relief her daughter had found someone who understood and supported her. Fear always lurked. Sometimes she thought it safer for Olivia to stay in her ordered routine, so self-reliant and accomplished. But Olivia was in love, and Geeta couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather see with her daughter.

“I'm very fond of Kate,” Geeta said. “Really. If I sound surprised, it’s because I do a double take sometimes, and forget who she is.”

And Olivia’s smile grew into a rare beam. “I can’t believe it some days.”

Oh, bugger, Geeta was going to cry.

“Sorry,” she swiped at tears. “I’m so happy for you.”

Oh this was silly. She’d embarrass Olivia like this, a blubbing mum in public.

But when she looked up, Olivia regarded her with a steady gaze. Hair tucked behind her ear, always elegant and poised, concern a subtle undulation in her eyebrows.

“What about you?” Olivia asked gently. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh. Fine.” Geeta smiled and waved the question away. “You know me.”

She lowered her gaze and blinked away the tears, and a heaviness descended. Because, no, she hadn’t been fine. And she’d promised herself a first step towards being open with Olivia. She stared at the table, knowing grief sabotaged her face, and perceptive and observant Olivia wouldn’t miss it.

“Actually...” Her breath caught. This was hard. “I haven’t been fine at all.”

When she looked up, Olivia listened.

“I’ve been lonely.”

Geeta had to stop again, even short sentences a struggle.

“I've been lonely a long time. And I’m sorry I left your dad. But I couldn’t stay. I loved him so much. For so long. But...” She gazed at nothing, and the words ran out.

A son-in-law lost for Satinder. The home fractured for Adam and Olivia. And heart break for Sumit. Sharp edges cut from every perspective she considered, and grief and guilt deepened their grip on her.

“We all knew,” came a whisper.

“What?” she gasped.

The quiet, understanding voice came again. “Everyone knew you were unhappy.”

A gentle hand reached out for hers. Geeta stared at it, almost expecting it to be small, so used to being the one to envelop Olivia’s for comfort when she was little. Hand holding was so rare since, that the impression remained ingrained from years ago and she kept staring at her mature daughter holding her.

“We all knew,” Olivia whispered. “I think we hoped you’d make it better. Because that’s what you did with everything.”

The elegant fingers curled around hers, so odd and comforting at the same moment. All this time she’d longed for her tiny daughter to come back, missing those idyllic years when Olivia thought she was godlike. And she’d come back after all, a grown woman, mature and considerate in her quiet but empathetic way.

Olivia had been doing this for months, Geeta suddenly realised. It had been Geeta who'd brushed her off and said everything was fine, and not to worry, finding the switch from invincible parent difficult.

God, she should have known this from her own mother, stubborn Satinder. And all this time, Olivia kept showing up.

She blinked and found Olivia looking at her.

“We knew you were unhappy. No-one blames you for leaving.”

“Oh,” Geeta gasped, mouth open and cheeks slack with grief and surprise. “Oh,” she said again.

“You mustn’t worry, Mum.”

Well, now she was going to full-on sob.

“None of us blame you at all.”

“Adam...” Geeta swallowed, “I don’t think he’s accepted it yet.”

Olivia rolled her eyes, then said, “I regret to inform you that your son's an insensitive idiot.”

The laugh shot out of her mouth. Geeta covered her lips because it had been loud at Olivia’s irritation at her younger brother. She wiped the tears away and breathed out, the weight lifting a little. She dabbed her nose with a tissue, sniffed loudly, and apologised and collected herself.

“So,” Olivia smiled. “ How have you been?”

“Well...” Geeta shrugged and laughed. It was all too much right now.

“Are you enjoying Bentley at least?” Olivia asked.

“Yes,” Geeta nodded. She could start there. “I love working with Liz and I’ll be sorry when Zain’s back.”

Olivia tilted her head for her to go on.

“And organising events means I chat with everyone. I love that. And...”

Was she there yet? Was she ready to admit this to anyone, especially Olivia? When that guilt about leaving Sumit still hung over her. That she worried about stability for her daughter, but ripped it away from Sumit who needed the same.

“Actually,” Geeta swallowed, “I’ve been seeing someone.”

A knot in her stomach tightened. She didn’t intend saying who, or much about it, only to start exploring that possibility and see how it landed with her family.

“I...”

It weighed colossal though. Even with Olivia admitting they knew she’d been unhappy, it was difficult to shake the sense of wrongness about stepping outside the family four. She’d broken them apart, so they no longer had that familiar basis. She’d torn up her identity and the role she’d held for so long – keeping the four of them happy and healthy in that home. And although being a mother had left her on her own, children gone and Sumit immersed in work, shattering that last piece had sent tremors to her foundation.

“Mum?” Olivia said quietly. Her daughter’s brown eyes held hers. “Dad’s seeing someone too.”

“What?” Geeta whispered.

Her ears rang, as if all sound ceased except the echo of that revelation.

“He’s seeing the head Lab Technician.”

“Sumit?” She spat out a laugh. “Your dad?” Geeta gawped in shock.

“He hasn’t said anything,” Olivia continued. “But when I met him in the department for a coffee, it was obvious.”

Geeta still didn’t take in the words.

“She’s quiet. I’d say similar age and disposition. Plays chess.” Olivia shrugged. “They spend hours staring at a chequered board between them. They’re very suitable,” she added with a wry smile.

Olivia may or may not be joking. And Geeta didn’t know if she wanted to laugh, or cry, or both. Either way, she still reeled. Sumit had never dated anyone but her.

“I doubt he’ll say anything even if they date for years,” Olivia added. “But I thought you might need to know,” Olivia finished, with an inquisitive tilt of her head.

Geeta sat stunned. Breathing. Harsh. Heart beating. Hard.

What was she feeling?

Heat hit her cheeks, and the weight lifted from her shoulders, as if she could float.

“Oh my god.” She covered her mouth.

Relief.

Her eyes filled with hot tears. One ran down her cheek. She let it run and drip from her jaw because she couldn’t move the hand that stifled sobs. A pressure lifted, like the hand of a god had pressed down on her life, and when it relented everything sprung up.

She breathed in hard, the noise loud in the small cafe.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “That’s a lot of things.”

Olivia flustered. No-one else would have noticed, but Geeta recognised that quiver of tension in her daughter.

“I thought it might help,” Olivia said.

“No, it has. I’m glad you told me.” Geeta put praying hands to her lips. “It’s just a lot, having that respite from feeling guilty about him.”

Because the world expanded large. The release of pressure, which she hadn’t realised stifled her life, suddenly pulled in what she’d not let near. Her heart filled with other things. And another person. Someone she knew was there. You couldn’t miss her. And whose presence had been growing powerfully. And now everything rushed in, quick and hard.

“It’s a relief because I’ve been...”

Oh god it rushed in fast.

“...seeing someone I...”

Someone she talked to about anything and everything. From that funny thing that your body did when you turned fifty, to her deepest fears. To what rocked her soul or woke her at night. A person who made her laugh until her stomach ached and loved that her belly wobbled when she laughed like that. Who made her light up like a bulb, with a single look, and spun her round dancing at dusk by the river, before comforting her to chest. A woman with many facets like her, and who appreciated so many of them like no-one else.

Someone who called her ‘darling’ in a way that undressed her, celebrated her, and said she'd walk to the ends of the earth for Geeta. In fact, would stride there with irresistible confidence. The person Geeta reached out for at night, only to find they embraced already. Someone beguiling, from the spark in the eye, to the scent of skin, to the way she looked at Geeta as if she were the moon.

“I’ve been seeing someone...” Geeta tried to say.

But it was so much more than that.

Because that someone cradled Geeta's whole heart in her hands, and Geeta hadn’t even realised.

“Mum, are you all right?”

No, she wasn’t.