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Diana stayed at the cottage after the funeral for two strange weeks. She drank, smoked, ate the remaining food in the fridge. I bought this pepper when she was alive, she would think. She did laundry that included Aurelle’s clothes. She was vaguely aware of a life divided: before, after. She drew in her sketchbook. At some point, she began capturing the view of RBU from the cottage, what it was like at different times during the day and night. Long, silent hours, the pencil scratching. She thought of Grace, but did not contact her, and Grace did not reach out. She was not surprised. To acknowledge the real person behind the paintings was antithetical to all that Grace was, what the work meant. Diana’s heart ached – as it always had – for love, but she closed herself to the pain. Straig
