THE PAPER PALACE

BY MIRANDA COWLEY HELLER

In the course of one day on Cape Cod, Elle, a 50-year-old happily married mother of three, must decide between the life she has made with her beloved husband, Peter, and the one she always imagined she would have had with her childhood love, Jonas, if a tragic event hadn’t forever changed the course of their lives…

I’m just going to have my coffee, and then I’ll clear the table,” I say. “If you clear the table I’ll do the rest of the dishes. Mmmm,” she says. “Thank you.” I hand her a cup of coffee.

“How was the water?” “Perfect. Cold.”

The best lesson my mother ever taught me: there are two things in life you never regret – a baby and a swim. Even on the coldest days of early June, as I stand looking out at the brackish Atlantic, resenting the seals that now rear their hideous, misshapen heads and draw Great Whites into these waters, I hear her voice in my head, urging me to plunge in.

“I hope you hung your towel on the line. I don’t want to see another pile of wet towels today. Tell the kids.” “It’s on the line.” “Because if you don’t yell at them, I will.”

“I got it.”

“And they need to sweep out their cabin. It’s a disaster. And don’t you do it, Elle. Those children are completely spoilt. They are old enough to…”

A bag of garbage in one hand, my coffee cup in the other, I walk out the back door letting her litany drift off into the wind.

Her worst advice: think Botticelli. Be like Venus rising on a half-shell, lips demurely closed, even her nakedness modest. My mother’s words of advice when I moved in with Peter. The message arrived on a faded postcard she’d picked up years before in the Uffizi gift shop. “Dear Eleanor, I like your Peter very much. Please make an effort not to be so argumentative all the time. Keep your mouth closed and look mysterious. Think Botticelli. Love, Mummy.”

I dump the garbage in the can, slam the lid shut, and stretch the bungee cord tight across it to keep out the raccoons. They are clever creatures with their long dexterous fingers. Little humanoid bears, smarter and nastier than they look.

“Did you remember to put the bungee cord back on, Elle?” my mother says.

“Of course.” I smile demurely and start clearing plates.

Edited extract from The Paper Palace by Miranda Cowley Heller (Penguin UK, $32.99) is out now.