Chapter 33Ruth surveyed the moving boxes, 149 in all, piled up in the already too-skinny hallway of the old flat. “In terms of possessions, I’ve never really owned much.”
“Perception can be deceiving,” Nili said, wiping the sweat from her neck with a towel. “Your not-muchness is stacking up pretty high in my eyes.”
Their new town house, located beneath a twined canopy of yew and ash and nestled within the cul-de-sac that was Grosvenor’s Close, was the high of the day—the late June day, to be exact. The house itself had a front garden full of bluebells and a tree house in the back. Nili would have the basement all to herself, and the children a room each. There was even a modest office on the second floor for Ruth—a step up from the converted dining room she was using now—and a sunroom ov
