‘That sounds promising,’ says Mum, breaking my thoughts. ‘It could take some of the pressure off you.’
‘I’m not under any pressure.’
‘No, but you know what I mean. It will be great if Luke can earn the equivalent to a decent wage.’
‘Mum, please. Not now.’
‘I’m just saying, you won’t have to feel so responsible financially for everyone. It’s good to have your own independence, both of you.’
‘Like you did. In case something goes wrong. That’s what you’re saying, aren’t you?’ I can’t help feeling more than a little irritated at the comment and it prickles me into a terse reply. I can feel the static coming off Mum. I sneak a look at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s staring straight ahead, but I can see her body is tense.
‘Yes. I do, actually,’ she says.
‘Mum, me and Luke are fine. We’ve been happily married all this time. We’ve known each other since we were at school. If something was going to happen, I’m sure it would have by now.’
‘But you don’t really know that. Sometimes being complacent is the worst thing. You don’t see it coming and it blindsides you.’
We drive along in silence for a few minutes. I can feel the weight of Mum’s words. I know she is looking out for me. You don’t stop being a mum just because your kids are grown up and married with their own family. I know Mum is fond of Luke, but he’s not her own flesh and blood so she’s bound to be biased. I’ll probably be just the same when the girls grow up and get boyfriends. I pick my next words carefully and say them with equal care.
‘What happened to make Dad leave?’
Mum has never told me the exact reason why Dad decided to take Alice on holiday on his own. Although, in hindsight, we both realise that to Dad it was never a holiday – it was always going to be for ever.
‘Your Dad didn’t want to stay with me any more,’ replies Mum. ‘You know that.’
‘But you’ve never told me why,’ I press. Somehow it seems important that I know now. Maybe it’s because Alice is coming home. Surely she will want to know.
‘It was a long time ago,’ says Mum. ‘I have no intention of picking old scars and wounds. I don’t want to dwell in the past. We have a future to look forward to with Alice.’
‘But she might ask you. What will you tell her?’
‘Exactly what I’ve just told you. Now, please, Clare, I don’t want to talk about it any more. It’s a corrosive subject and it will eat you away if you allow it.’ She pauses and then lets out a small sigh. ‘I don’t want it to poison you, like it has me. I’ve never wanted that for either of my girls. All I want is for us to be happy now.’
I let the subject go just like I always do when we get to this point.
The flight from Orlando arrives on time and Mum and I wait patiently at arrivals, scanning the throng of passengers who make their way through the glass doors.
A family of four, a couple in their thirties with their two small children. The mum is carrying the toddler and the dad is pushing the trolley laden with suitcases, a child of about five tags along, holding onto the trolley. A man in a business suit with a small carry-on case in one hand, a briefcase in the other, early-morning stubble grazing his chin. He marches through, not looking for anyone, eyes straight ahead. He’s obviously done this journey before, it’s not new to him, there’s no excitement in being in the UK. I wonder idly if he’s American or British.
I see a young woman with dark hair round the corner and for a moment I think it’s Alice, but as she comes into view, I see she’s with a guy. They have backpacks and are wearing shorts and hoodies. The girl’s face lights up and she nudges the boyfriend as she points ahead. I look over and see a middle-aged woman waving back. The passengers file through but still no sign of Alice and Martha.
‘They would have emailed if they had missed their flight, wouldn’t they?’ says Mum.
‘Relax, Mum, I’m sure they won’t be long now. You know what it’s like getting through passport control.’
‘Do you think Alice has an American or British passport?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose it depends whether she took American citizenship or not.’
Mum nods and I can see a look of sadness flick across her face. ‘It’s the little details that are a painful reminder I don’t know my own daughter. I should know things like that.’
‘Hey, Mum. Don’t be getting yourself all upset, now. We have the next few weeks to find out all these things.’ Mum smiles and I can see her making a conscious effort to dismiss the melancholy thought.
I turn my attention back to the arriving passengers. A young woman with long, wavy brunette hair appears and I’m just about to dismiss her and pass my gaze on to the other passengers when something makes me do a double-take. Mum grabs my arm at the same time.
‘There!’ she says and waves. ‘Alice!’
The young woman looks up and looks in our direction. She looks nervous. I smile broadly and wave too. I look beyond her, but she seems to be travelling alone, no sign of her friend. She begins to walk towards us, her stride quickens with every step. She breaks into a small run. Mum leaves my side and is running towards her. The sight of them makes me want to cry. Mum is crying already. They throw their arms around each other and stand there, lost in their own world, oblivious to everything and everyone around them. Mum pulls away, holds Alice’s face between her hands, cherishing every feature. She kisses her cheek, lots of times. They look at each other and laugh.
Then Mum is gesturing towards me and, with her arm around her daughter’s shoulder, she brings Alice over to me. I see those beautiful blue eyes; they are even bluer than I remember. I’m momentarily thrown back to the day she left, when those same eyes pleaded with me from the doorway of the living room. I can feel my chest tighten and my throat wants to close. I take a breath of air. I step forward and, within seconds, my darling little sister is holding me and I’m holding her.
‘Oh, Alice. You’ve come home,’ I hear myself whispering. All the doubts for the past few weeks seem to wash away with the tears that stream down my face.
Alice squeezes me back hard. ‘Hi, Clare. I can’t believe I’m actually here. All the years I’ve thought about you. It was like you and Mom weren’t real. And now, it’s like my dreams have come to life.’
She has a strong Southern twang and, for some reason, it surprises me. I suppose, in my mind, I expected her to speak just like me. ‘Come on, let’s get to the car,’ I say, wiping my face dry with a tissue Mum has pushed into my hand. She’s done the same with Alice. The three of us mop our tears. I pick up Alice’s suitcase and then suddenly remember her friend. ‘Where’s your friend – Martha?’ I look back towards the arrival doors. ‘I thought she was coming with you.’
Alice waves her hand. ‘Oh, yeah, sorry. Last-minute change of plan. She couldn’t make it in the end. So, I’m afraid, it’s just me.’ She grins and gives a shrug. ‘Hope that’s okay?’ The smile disappears and she looks concerned. ‘Sorry, I should have let you know, but in all the excitement, I clean forgot.’