Page 15

FIFTEEN

Martha doesn’t notice it’s gone until the following day.

“Al,” she says, staring at his hand holding a cereal spoon at the kitchen table. “Where’s your ring?”

Nala is on Martha’s hip, drinking her morning milk bottle. Troy and Jonah are getting ready for school. Al glances down at his hand and then up at her. “Ah,” he says. “Yes. I think I left it in the changing rooms at the gym.”

“What gym?”

“At the hotel. It’s the only explanation. The only time I ever take it off is at the gym. I called them and they said they haven’t seen it, but the manager who was there at the weekend will have a look when he’s in tomorrow. I’m really sorry, darling.”

Blood rushes through Martha’s brain, making her feel light-headed for a moment.

He finds time to go to the gym, but not to call her.

There’s time for haircuts, but not to reply to her messages.

The baby wriggles in her arms and Martha slots her into the high chair, puts a finger of dry toast on the tray in front of her.

“What will you do?” she says. “If they can’t find it?”

“I don’t know. Replace it, I suppose.”

“But, Al, that cost nearly a thousand pounds. I…”

“Maybe the household insurance will cover it?” He looks up at her sheepishly through his black-framed glasses. “I’m really, really sorry. But I feel like it will turn up, you know, that… that the universe will return it to me.” He smiles and she smiles back.

“Well, I hope you’re right,” she says, turning to the dishwasher to put away the boys’ breakfast things.

Her gaze goes to the view through the kitchen window, out across her tiny garden, stripped now of all the magical foliage and greenery that make it look like a fairy tale during the spring and summer months: the curved bench under the lilac tree, the firepit surrounded by low-slung teak armchairs with floral cushions.

Just then, a flake drifts lazily past, then another and another, and soon the sky is filled with them, and she turns to Al and says, “Look! It’s snowing! ”

The boys gather at the window too, and Al plucks Nala from her high chair and brings her over.

The five of them stand together watching the wonder of it, the luminescent, airless flakes cascading across the garden, and for a short while, Martha forgets about her lost weekend in Normandy, about the ring, about the haircut, about all of it, and just feels so glad she found a good man who will stand with his baby in his arms and show her how to love the snow.