“Get in position,” Daniel hissed. “Hello, welcome.” He pulled the door wide. “Please come in.”
“Are you playing a trick?” Coralie stepped cautiously into the hall. Zora was at the foot of the stairs, posing with Daniel’s big curve-handled dog-walking umbrella. She was wearing what looked like a white linen bathrobe, belted at the waist, over a trailing white skirt or dress. Her long, dark hair was poufed up and tied into a thick plait. Her face looked exquisite, blush on her cheeks, her eyebrows groomed into an elegant shape.
“Lucy Honeychurch,” Daniel whispered, just as Coralie exclaimed, “A Room with a View!”
“She got it!” Daniel said.
“Holy moly. Don’t move. Stay right there.” Coralie pulled out her phone to take photos. “How did you manage this! Helena Bonham Carter dot-com! What’s under the bathrobe?”
“It’s petticoats and a slip. We made them out of sheets! We watched the movie on the projector!” Zora jumped off the bottom step and became a child again. “We saw the naked men!”
“Oh, I remember them,” Coralie said. “We always pressed pause on that bit when we watched it at school.”
“I love that movie.Beauty! Joy! Love!” Daniel shouted to the back of the house.
Zora gave an indulgent smile. “He’s saying his creed.”
Daniel put out his arm to Coralie. “Care for some tea, Mr. Beebe?”
“I’m not Mr. fucking Beebe! But thank you, Mr. Emerson.”
•••
It had beenthe Year 7 taster day, Daniel explained while Zora was downstairs getting her things. “It’s like a practice run for high school.”
“I know what it is—she had one a few weeks ago.”
“Some horrible bully with bad taste said her eyebrows were too thick.”
“What!”
“She asked me if she could get her eyebrows threaded! I said no way.”
“Her beautiful face,” Coralie said. “God.”
“Anyway, Barbie had the idea about the movie. He loves Helena Bonham Carter, he calls her HBC. Zora likes her eyebrows now. And, by the way, she wants to do piano.”
“She quit piano!”
Daniel shrugged. “What are your plans, anyway? For the girls, when the baby comes. Because we’d be happy to have Zora anytime.”
“But not Florence,” Coralie said.
“Of course we’d have Florence! She’s just not really interested in what I can provide. If she cries,Iwant to cry.”
“Anne and Sally are threatening to come up. I’d love to see Sally. Anne I can take or leave…. It would be good to have them nearby,to look after the girls when the time comes. I want the help, but I don’t want to pressure them. But I also don’t want them to think I’m inviting them to stay.”
“Why don’t I ask Barbie if they can have the Graham Road flat?”
Coralie mimed holding on to the counter for support. “What do you mean, the Graham Road flat?”
“Don’t be a pain about this, or I’ll take the offer back. It’s one of Barbie’s flats. I’ve been managing it for Airbnb. I’m sure it’s free, or if it’s not, I can make it free. Cancel someone’s booking.”
“Daniel the Corbynista landlord,” Coralie mused. “Ol’ multiple-houses Barbie. Well, if it’s available, and it’s okay, I would really love that, Dan—thanks.”
•••
Coralie and Zora(no longer in her Edwardian garb) picked up Florence early and took her to Hackney City Farm. The farm café was teeming with mothers and under-fives. Coralie had thought almost everyone worked. Now it seemed no one did. It was a shock.
