““I left my key at home,” he said. “Sorry.” She had presented him with a key shortly after Charlie’s birth, or slipped it into his hand; a presentation would have been more ceremonial. At first he had kept it on his main key ring, but then, for some reason, he had moved it onto another one, by itself. She had wondered about this—whether the separation of keys meant anything, but dismissed the thought; one could read too much into little things. “You should keep all your…” He bent down and kissed... her, and her question trailed off. “Yes, of course. Of course. Where’s Charlie?” Charlie was lying on his back, on a blanket in the morning room, staring up at the ceiling. He appeared to be fascinated by the ornamental plaster rose in the centre and would gaze at it for long periods. “He must think that’s the sky,” said Isabel. “And the plaster rose is a cloud.” Jamie laughed and went down on his hands and knees beside Charlie, who lifted his arms up and gurgled with pleasure.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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