“Is that all I am to you? Someone to organize your holiday?”
“No.” Sean finished his coffee. “Although you are good at that. Thanks to you, life runs smoothly.”
The holiday, which she’d been looking forward to for so long, no longer seemed as shiny. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but she couldn’t do that with a stranger about to join them in the kitchen.
Grabbing Sean’s mug, she refilled it.
She needed to stop overthinking everything, particularly her marriage. Sean had made an insensitive comment. So what? People said the wrong thing all the time. She said the wrong thing. It was important not to overreact. She was going to throw that stupid article away.
She heard laughter from the hallway and then her mother came back into the room, accompanied by a girl who looked barely older than Caitlin.
Her curls bounced around her shoulders and her jeans and her top clung to her curves. She had a dusting of freckles on her nose and a friendly smile that made you want to smile back.
Sean stepped forward. “Nice to meet you. Martha, is it? Good journey?”
“Great, thanks. Straight through from London.”
Liza looked at her stupidly. “You came by train?”
“Train, and I splurged on a taxi from the station. He moaned all the way.” Martha seemed sympathetic rather than annoyed. “Something about the roads being too narrow and the hedges too high.”
She made Liza feel old. “I assumed you’d drive.”
“I don’t have a car, and anyway I like the train. It’s a good time to read and I always find the rhythm soothing.”
“I am the same,” Kathleen said. “I once traveled from Moscow to Vladivostok on the Trans-Siberian Railway.”
Liza remembered that trip. She’d had meningitis and been so ill she’d had to spend weeks in the hospital. People had talked in hushed voices around her. Her father, white-faced and tense, had never left her bedside. For a short time she’d been the focus of attention, and then her mother had arrived home with postcards and souvenirs from her trip and the focus in the house had shifted.
Did her mother even remember she’d been ill?
“Come and sit down, Martha.” Kathleen rummaged in her file and brought out some pictures. “What do you know about Route 66?”
“I studied The Grapes of Wrath at school, so I know about the people escaping the Dust Bowl in the 1930s, traveling from the Midwest to the California coast. Route 66. The Mother Road. Hated the book as a child, but I’ve reread it five times since then and it’s one of my favorites. Weird how school can put you off something, instead of inspiring you. Apart from that,” Martha pondered, “I know the road was decommissioned and replaced by the interstate, but presumably you want to stick to the historic Route 66 wherever we can?”
“I do.” Kathleen looked delighted. “My dream is to rent a classic Ford Mustang and travel in style, but then I thought maybe I’m too old for that.”
Finally, Liza thought. Some common sense on display.
Kathleen continued. “Instead I’ve decided that we’ll rent the fanciest, most up-to-date Mustang convertible available. With air-conditioning of course, because when we reach Needles, on the state line between Arizona and California, the temperatures will be hot enough to roast a hog.”
A Mustang convertible?
Martha leaned over the pictures, her curls tumbling forward. “We’d look cool, but we’d be boiling to death?”
“Exactly.” Kathleen was charmed. “It’s a sub-tropical desert climate, with huge thunderstorms during the hot summer.”
Liza couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I assumed you’d rent a safe, modern SUV.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Kathleen was studying the map. “I read an article that said as long as you drive early in the morning, you can avoid the heat of the day. Can you travel light, Martha? There’s not a lot of room for luggage.”
“Wait—” Liza interrupted. “You’re basically hiring a sports car?”
“It will be fun for Martha.”
Liza thought she saw a flash terror in Martha’s eyes, but decided she was probably seeing a reflection of her own emotions.
“What if you break down?”
“What if we don’t? And anyway, the company said there was a number we could call. With luck they might send a hot guy for Martha.” Kathleen winked at Martha, who laughed.
“If we break down in the desert, we’ll all be hot.”
“This sounds like such fun I’m tempted to hide away in the back seat,” Sean said and Liza wondered why it was left to her to ask the important questions.
“But you can drive, Martha? The minimum age to rent a car in the US is twenty-five.”
“I was twenty five last month.”
She looked younger. Liza resisted the temptation to ask if she could check her birth certificate. “And you don’t mind being away for half the summer?”
“Thank you, Liza.” Her mother gestured to the map. “Come and take a look, Martha. Exciting, isn’t it?”
“Very.” Martha leaned closer. “I’ve been studying the route. I can’t wait to see the Grand Canyon.”
“Me too.” Kathleen urged Martha to sit down. “I will take care of all expenses of course. You won’t have to pay for a thing.”
What if the girl had extravagant tastes and wanted to order a massive steak in every restaurant or diner?
“Mum—”
“Are you able to be flexible? Because although we will book a few places along the way, I’d like to give ourselves time to be spontaneous. Stay longer if we feel like it. Move on if we don’t.”
“Sounds good. Let’s go where no one can find us.” Martha blushed. “I mean, it sounds exciting, that’s all. And I can sleep anywhere.”
Liza frowned. Why would she want to go where no one could find her?
“I’m planning on taking two weeks to do the trip, perhaps more, and then spending a few weeks in California. I’ll be away for a month at least.” Kathleen folded the map. “What date do you have to be home?”
“I don’t have to be home at all. I can stay forever if that’s what works for you.”
Forever? What sort of person could stay away forever?
Did she have nothing going on in her life at all?
Liza’s frustration turned to suspicion. Something about this didn’t feel right.