‘What’s wrong with that?’ said Issy. ‘Of course I want people to like me. Everyone should like people to like them. The alternative is just wars and aggravation.’

‘Or honesty,’ said Darny.

‘Quite right,’ said Marian. They exchanged a glance.

‘You two are ganging up on me,’ said Issy, attempting at least the bottom half of her sandwich. It was absolutely delicious. As soon as she tasted it, all her doubts about the café and its standards completely disappeared. That was interesting, she realised, looking at the queue out of the door. People came here for one thing only: the amazing, fabulous food. The fact that the lino was a bit cracked or the windows smeary didn’t matter in the slightest. She looked around at the other customers, rushing in, shouting out their orders, scattering salt sachets and coffee stirrers on the counter, jostling each other to get in. This was good. This was how people liked it. It might not suit her clientele, but it certainly suited its own.

‘So tell me, how’s school, Darny?’ said Marian.

Darny shrugged. ‘Awful.’

‘It is not “awful”,’ said Issy. ‘He gets top scores in maths and physics. And no scores in everything else, not because he’s not bright but because he isn’t interested.’

‘I hated school,’ said Marian. ‘Got out as soon as I could.’

And got pregnant, Issy didn’t say.

‘Issy was such a little scholar, worked so hard, went to college, passed all her exams, proper little swot, and what does she do now? Makes cakes. Which is fine, I grant you, but it hardly needed her grandfather to pay for three years of higher education.’

‘It’s been very useful, actually,’ said Issy, crossly.

‘So you are who, exactly?’ said Marian.

‘I’m Austin’s little brother. Austin’s her boyfriend.’ Darny made a face and Marian laughed.

‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,’ she said.

‘Austin,’ said Issy patiently. ‘The tall chap that was at the funeral? Whose house I live in? Whom I talk about on the phone?’

‘Oh yes, ooh yes, of course I did,’ said Marian. ‘I must meet him one day.’

‘You have met him,’ said Issy. ‘Four times.’

‘Oh, of course I have. Good for you! Now, Darny, tell me some of the nonsense they’ve been teaching you in school.’

And to Issy’s absolute surprise, Darny launched into a long story about their sex-education teacher who had got all wobbly and upset doing something unfortunate with a banana. It was a funny story and Marian listened carefully and asked pertinent questions, and then they both got stuck into a discussion of why they had to use rabbits for sex information and why couldn’t they use those gay penguins, and Issy couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that Marian was obviously enjoying the conversation – they both were – but also that she was talking to Darny as if they were both adults, or both teenagers, she couldn’t quite tell which one. At any rate, in a way that they managed to understand one another. She watched them with some sadness. Darny was so sparky, so full of contrariness and argument. She found it wearing and problematic, but to her mother it was clearly a challenge. Yet she herself had spent so much time as a daughter trying to be good, and behave herself, and gain appreciation for that.

Well, Gramps had loved her for who she was. She knew that much. And Austin, too. No wonder he’d been so surprised by her outburst last night. She surreptitiously fingered her phone and wondered what he was up to. She glanced towards the restaurant kitchen, full of short-order cooks shouting, bantering, working the lunchtime rush. She wished she could bake something. It always calmed her down when she was agitated. But between the little hotel room and the big restaurant meals, that definitely wasn’t possible. She was just going to have to grin and bear it. And be happy that Darny and her mother seemed to have made a connection. That was good, at least.

They added a hearty tip to the bill (Issy paid, and her mother let her), reluctant to leave the cosy banquette for the freezing street, but Marian mentioned that she had to go and pick up some knishes from Dean & Deluca, a sentence Issy didn’t understand any of, so they headed out together into the cold.

‘How long are you here for?’ said Marian.

‘A few days,’ said Issy. ‘Can we come and visit you?’

Marian frowned. ‘Well, you know, it’s very busy at the commune … Of course,’ she said. ‘Of course. I’ll send you directions.’

She kissed them both freely.

‘Mazel tov!’ she yelled happily, as she marched off in her funny home-made clothes, walking across a stop light as if she’d been born in America.

‘Your mum’s cool,’ said Darny, as they took a cab up to the Guggenheim Museum.

‘People think that,’ said Issy.

‘Do you not see her very much?’

‘No,’ sighed Issy. ‘But that’s OK. I never did, really.’

A silence fell between them. But this time it felt a bit more companionable.

After an hour of trying to appreciate the art (and Darny running up and down the famous circular passageway), Issy was utterly exhausted. She was on the brink of suggesting they go back to the hotel and have a nap when her phone finally tinged. It was Austin, with one of the funny, short New York addresses made up of numbers. He was suggesting they meet up there, and Issy agreed.

Austin had sleepwalked through his meeting. He hadn’t listened to a word anyone had said, just launched into an analysis of the business as he saw it. Amazingly, nobody seemed to have noticed that he hadn’t listened. Maybe not listening was the way forward. Maybe it was how everything got done. But he couldn’t help it. He was, he realised, unutterably miserable. Here they were, showering him with riches and offers and a whole new way of life; a way of life he’d never even dreamed of. Success, security for Darny and himself; a future.

But the person he wanted more than anyone to share it with didn’t seem to want to share it with him.

Austin hadn’t fallen in love with Issy straight away. He had found her quirky, then he had liked her, then it had gradually dawned on him that he never wanted to be without her. But it was more than that. He trusted her; he listened to what she had to say. They thought alike on so many things. And the fact that Issy clearly wasn’t interested in being here with him … it shook his confidence, it really did. He’d grown to rely on her so fully, even, he realised, to the point of taking her for granted.