Perfect Day

for children. I’ve had this idea—’
    ‘You’d be really good at children’s stories,’ Marie interrupts.
    ‘Why?’
    Kate waits for the inevitable sarcastic one-liner, but Marie takes a long drag of her cigarette and smiles at her.
    ‘ D’you remember , when I had nightmares and you’d make up stories to get me off to sleep again? I used to love lying in the dark, listening to your voice. It made me feel safe.’
    ‘Really?’
    Of all the feelings Kate has experienced on this most extraordinary day, this is the nicest.
    ‘Do you want to know the story I’m thinking of?’ she asks.
    ‘Yeah, go on then.’ Marie sits forward, waiting eagerly for her to begin.
    ‘Well, once upon a time there was this boy whose parents were very forgetful and they kept leaving him behind in places—’
    ‘Places?’ Marie interrupts again.
    She was always impatient for clarification, Kate remembers.
    ‘Places they went, like art galleries, or a department store,’ Kate adds quickly, seeing that she’s losing Marie. ‘And these places become his home for the night, you see. He finds out all about them... so it’s a bit educational as well...’
    As she talks, the ideas begin to form. She has a very clear picture of what the boy will look like. He’s small and thin and his mouth is always the colour of what he’s been eating, and his clothes are a little bit big. He’s got freckles on his nose, and an impish smile. He’s just like the pictures she used to draw of Jimmy when she was teaching him adverbs, she realizes.
    ‘Home for the Night,’ Marie says, as if it’s a title. ‘I like that. If it were a department store, he could sit at one of those tables laid out with candlesticks and pleated napkins and everything... and lounge on a stripy sunlounger ... and try out the DVD…’
    ‘And play with all the toys... and eat all the chocolates,’ says Kate.
    ‘What’s he called?’ Marie wants to know.
    ‘I might call him Alexander,’ Kate says.
    Would he hate that very much? She imagines him a few years from now in Waterstone’s with Lucy, seeing a display of books. He walks over, drawn by the title, then sees her name on the cover and smiles. She doesn’t think he would mind having his name in a book now that he’s grown up.
    ‘Alexander,’ says Marie. ‘It’s a bit long. Why not Jimmy?’
    ‘Not Jimmy. Wouldn’t be fair.’
    Marie clinks her champagne flute against Kate’s, and drains it.
    ‘Here’s to The Adventures of Alexander. To fame and fortune!’ she says.
    ‘Don’t know about that,’ says Kate.
    ‘That Harry Potter woman’s a single mum,’ says Marie, as if it’s the only qualification needed.
    Kate takes another small sip from her glass. The bubbles prickle her tongue. ‘I’m going to have a go, anyway,’ she says.
    ‘Why do you have to go home?’ Marie asks.
    There’s a wobble in her voice that makes Kate look up. A single tear is slipping melodramatically down Marie’s cheek.
    ‘I miss Jimmy,’ she says. ‘And he probably misses me a bit, even though he’d rather die than say so.’
    ‘But there’s nothing to do there,’ Marie says desperately.
    ‘So I’ll have no excuse not to write. No distractions...’
    ‘You’re not going to get married?’
    ‘No. I’m not going to get married.’
    ‘If I got a proper flat, you know, just you and me, here in London , would you stay?’ Marie asks.
    ‘I don’t think so.’
    ‘Not even if I got a proper job?’
    ‘You like your job,’ Kate says.
    ‘Do I?’ Marie looks as if she’s never thought about it before. ‘I suppose I do. Champagne can make you a bit weepy, can’t it?’ she says brightly. She wipes her forearm across her face just like she used to at school when she’d forgotten her hanky.
    ‘You won’t forget me when you’re rich and famous, will you?’
    ‘We’ll go round the world together,’ Kate promises. ‘Where would you like to go?’
    ‘ Las Vegas ! What about you?’
    ‘ Bali . Or somewhere unspoilt like the Philippines .’
    ‘Don’t you want to go anywhere in America ?’ Marie asks, disappointed.
    ‘ New York , New Orleans , Hollywood .’
    ‘We could drive across in a Cadillac!’
    ‘Neither of us can drive,’ says Kate.
    ‘We’ll learn. Des can teach us.’
    ‘Is Des coming too?’ Kate asks.
    ‘No. I want to meet new people.’
    ‘Who would you most like to meet?’ Kate asks.
    ‘Brad Pitt.’
    ‘He’s married.’
    ‘For heaven’s sake, you’ve got to