Emma was an occasional freelance interior designer, and Lucy would be amazed if she’d ever had a black client. All the other fields of endeavor that might have provided her with comparative options—sport, music, books, even politics—she had no interest in. Lucy had had enough conversations with kids and colleagues to understand how deep this sort of thing cut, but how did one even begin, with someone as oblivious and as unreflective as Emma? So she didn’t, and she wouldn’t.
