“So long as it’s not barbecue, I don’t mind.”
An attendant named Carlos brought us gin and green Pringles. Eliza told me to come to the bottom bunk, and we both sat with our backs to the wall, the motion of the train making us sway constantly, shoulders and thighs pressing together. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
“Is this weird how this doesn’t feel weird?” Eliza rolled her neck.
I smiled. It was like she could read my mind. “I was thinking the same thing at dinner.”
“I guess we’re not starting from scratch.”
“Margot threatened Andrew might shadow me instead of you. He’s been with Voss for life. I’m glad I’m sharing this carriage with you, not him. That could have been a little trickier.”
The thought of that made us both laugh.
“Sitting side by side like this reminds me of sitting up in our old tree house that my granddad built. You remember that?” It had been one of the best birthday presents I’d ever received. My granddad loved building things, and my tree house was a place just for me. Often, just for me and Eliza.
She bumped my shoulder with hers, and when I turned my head, she had a wide grin on her face. I could tell she was picturing being up there, too. The smell of freshly cut grass, the heat of the sun, the annoying midges that always managed to find their way in and never their way out.
“I remember your tree house. It was one of the single greatest things that happened in my childhood. A place to get away from adults. Your tree house is still the holy grail. No internet. No TV. Just a place to sit and talk. This train carriage is copying that vibe.”
For a moment, I glimpsed the Eliza I used to know beneath all the years of careful distance.
“Is Loch Cottage still there?”
I nodded. “I think so. I don’t go that way often when I visit.” There were too many memories in Goldloch, so I’d tied them up and stored them away.
“Maybe we can take a look when we’re there.” Eliza’s face was hopeful.
“Maybe.”
“But also, I was hoping we could get to know each other as who we are now on this trip,” Eliza continued, not looking directly at me. “If we’re going to work together, I want to look forward, not back. It’ll help when we do business.”
I nodded. That made sense. She’d started off saying it was professional, but it was never going to be. Not with our history. “Okay. Tell me about your life. What did you do at the weekend?”
Eliza considered my question. Was she deciding whether to edit for a better story? “Saturday was tile shopping in Islington with my mum. Sunday, we hit an outlet village hunting for dining chairs.” She held up a hand before I could comment. “In my defence, I’m doing up a house, and that requires surrendering all recreational time to really boring things.”
“You moved from where you were?”
Eliza nodded. “Bought a doer-upper. I regret it most days. Especially because I’m back at my dad’s while contractors destroy my sanity and bank balance in equal measure.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I was surprised when Margot told me you moved in with your dad. You never saw eye to eye when we were growing up. A little like me and Mum.”
She nodded. “That’s true, but needs must. He’s got a big house, and I needed somewhere to live.”
“How’s that working out for your social life?”
Something flickered across her face. Amusement, maybe embarrassment. “I’ve become a nun since I broke up withMichelle, so it’s not really an issue.” She leaned forward slightly. “What about you?”
I knew all about people letting you down and leaving. I wrote the book on it.
I held out a hand. “Sister Poppy here, also doing the lord’s work.”
She shook my hand with a laugh that I was thrilled to be the architect of. I don’t know if it was that or her touch, but as she wrapped her fingers around mine, an electric current ran through me with a force I was unprepared for.
When I risked a look at her, I was sure I caught a hint of surprise behind her eyes, too.
She dropped my gaze and cleared her throat. “Lesbian nuns is a thing now, right?” She shook her head softly. “Honestly, after Michelle, I thought about becoming a nun. I wondered if it was really all worth it. We bought a house, we got married, then she buggered off to New York.”
“Ouch. I heard you broke up, but I wasn’t sure of the details.”
