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She caught sight of the wet patch on the doorstep as she finally opened the door.

“Don’t worry about that,” Lucie said softly, appearing behind them. “I’ll throw a bowl of washing-up liquid on it.”

“Thank you,” Frances called as she ushered her mum down the hallway and up the stairs.

When she finally made her way back down half an hour later, Frances let out a deep sigh of relief. She often did that in the evenings once she knew her mum was asleep. It marked a moment when she could literally breathe properly.

“Everything okay?” Lucie asked.

“Yes. She was out like a light after a wash, didn’t even need her pills,” Frances said, sinking into the space beside her. She pointed to a glass of wine on the table. “Is that for me?”

“Yes. I thought you might need it.”

“I do. Thanks.” Frances took a generous sip and set it back down. “It’s been a tiring day, but worthwhile, I think.”

“She really seemed to enjoy the musical.”

“She did,” Frances said, realising that something positive had come from the evening, even if it had become a little challenging towards the end. “She was still talking about the costumes as she was falling asleep.”

“She seems calmer here.”

“Yes, I noticed that too. She really enjoyed lunch at The Ivy. She and Dad used to go there all the time back in the day.”

Lucie’s eyebrows lifted. “Did she recognise it?”

“Only visually. She couldn’t remember the name of it, but she did remember three times that my dad would always order the lamb shank and was disappointed it wasn’t on the menu anymore.”

“She needs to be doing more things she enjoys. Much of the present is drifting from her now, but we can find pockets of the past she can relate to.”

Frances hummed her agreement despite there being no more we. It would be just her from now on.

“Who were the people we met?”

“Old family friends. I’m grateful they didn’t make a fuss.”

“You handled it well.”

“Thank you,” Frances said, taking another sip of wine. “We haven’t seen them for years. Probably since my dad’s funeral. Michael and he were old school friends.”

“It’s no wonder, then, that she didn’t recognise them.”

Frances nodded, her gaze shifting to Lucie. “I’m sorry about what Mum said in the taxi earlier.”

Lucie laughed. “My gran would try to set me up with every woman we’d meet. She would say, ‘This is my granddaughter. She loves girls.’ She was very proud. My dad took a bit of time to settle with it. Gran thought the root of it was sadness that my mum never knew. Another reminder that she never got to see who I was.”

“I’m sure your mum would have been proud of you, too,” Frances said. Even if she had no idea, it felt like the right thing to say. She was unsure if Lucie wanted to dwell on the topic, though, so she decided to change it.

“Are you excited by the job?”

“Yes, but I’m a little nervous about everything I need to figure out before then.”

“Like?” Frances asked, leaning forward and taking another sip of wine.

“A place to live,” Lucie replied, doing the same.

Frances paused as an idea popped into her head. “Why don’t you stay here?”

Lucie’s head whipped around. “What?”