It was so tranquil and peaceful that for a moment Liza longed for a different life—one that didn’t involve rushing around, ticking off items from her endless to-do list. She just wanted to sit.
Her quiet fantasy of one day living near the sea had all but died. There had been a time early in their relationship when she and Sean had discussed it regularly, but then real life had squeezed out those youthful dreams. Living on the coast wasn’t practical. Sean’s work was based in London. So was hers. Although teaching was more flexible, of course.
Sean brought the food in from the car and Liza unpacked it into the fridge.
“I had a casserole in the freezer, so I brought that,” she said. “And some veg.”
“I’m capable of making food,” said her mother.
“Your idea of food is bacon and cereal. You’re not eating properly.” She filled a bowl with fresh fruit. “I assumed you weren’t set up for an invasion of people.”
“Can two people be an invasion?” Her mother’s tone was light, but she gripped the edge of the kitchen table and carefully lowered herself into a chair.
Liza was by her side in a moment. “Maybe I should take a look at your head.”
“No one else is touching my head, thank you. It already hurts quite enough. The young doctor who stitched me up warned me that it would leave a scar. As if I’m bothered by things like that at my age.”
Age.
Was this the moment to mention that it was time to consider a change?
Across the kitchen, Sean was pouring the tea.
Liza paused, nervous about disturbing the atmosphere.
She tried again to encourage a deeper conversation. “You must have been frightened.”
“I was more worried about Popeye. You know how he dislikes strangers. He must have escaped through the open door and I haven’t seen him since.”
Liza gave up. If her mother wanted to talk about the cat, then they’d talk about the cat. “He’s always been a bit of a wanderer.”
“That’s probably why we get on so well. We understand each other.”
Was it crazy to be jealous of a cat?
Her mother looked wistful and Liza resolved to do what she could to find Popeye. “If he’s not back by the morning we’ll search for him. And now I think you should have a lie-down.”
“At four in the afternoon? I’m not an invalid, Liza.” Kathleen put sugar in her tea—another unhealthy habit she refused to abandon. “I don’t want a fuss.”
“We’re not fussing. We’re here to look after you, and to—” To make you think about the future. Liza stopped.
“And to what? Persuade me to wear an emergency buzzer? I’m not doing it, Liza.”
“Mum—” She caught Sean’s warning glance but ignored it. Maybe the subject was best raised right now, so that they had the whole weekend to discuss details. “This has been a shock for all of us, and it’s time to face some difficult truths. Things need to change.”
Sean turned away with a shake of his head, but her mother was nodding.
“Things do have to change. Being hit over the head has brought me to my senses.”
Liza felt a rush of relief. Her mother was going to be reasonable. Turned out she wasn’t the only sensible person in the room.
“I’m pleased you feel that way,” she said. “I have brochures in the car, so all we have to do now is plan. And we have all weekend for that.”
“Brochures? You mean travel brochures?”
“For residential homes. We can—”
“Why would you bring those?”
“Because you can’t stay here any longer, Mum. You admitted things have to change.”
“They do. And I’m in the process of formulating a plan I will share with you when I’m sure of the details. But I won’t be going into a residential home. That isn’t what I want.”
Was her mother saying she wanted to come and live with them in London?
Liza swallowed and forced herself to ask the question. “What is it that you want?”
“Adventure.” Kathleen slapped her hand on the table, setting cups rattling. “I want another adventure. I was the original Summer Seeker and I miss those days terribly. Who knows how many summers I have left? I intend to make the most of this one.”
“But Mum—” Oh this was ridiculous. “You’re going to be eighty-one at the end of this year.”
Her mother sat up a little straighter and her eyes gleamed. “All the more reason not to waste another moment.”
3
KATHLEEN
Kathleen woke with a pounding headache. For a moment as she drifted between sleep and wakefulness she thought she was back in Africa suffering from malaria. It had been a miserable experience, and not one she was in a hurry to relive.
Struggling awake she sat up, felt the bandage on her head and remembered everything.
The drunk man dressed in black.
The police.
Popeye missing.
Her head.
The headache wasn’t malaria, but a result of her self-inflicted injury. Which, thinking about it, was a great deal more exciting.
Since Brian died, it had felt as if someone had pressed Pause on her life. She’d been living here in her safe little world, moored in a harbor instead of heading boldly out to sea.
Liza didn’t want her in the harbor, she wanted her in dry dock. She wanted her safely shut away in a place where no harm could come to her.
Her daughter’s intentions were good, but the thought of selling the home she loved had brought Kathleen to the edge of panic. She’d been so horrified by the idea that she’d blurted out that wild statement about wanting adventure.
Liza’s expression of shock wasn’t something any of them were likely to forget in a hurry.
She’d obviously thought that the bang on the head had affected her mother’s thinking.
Mum? Are you sure you’re feeling all right? Are you dizzy? Do you know what day it is?
Yes, she knew what day it was. It was the day to make a few decisions.
She eased herself out of bed, ignoring the aches in her limbs, and took painkillers for her headache. From her bedroom window she could see the ocean in the distance and had a sudden yearning to be skimming the waves in a catamaran with salt air stinging her face. She’d once spent a month sailing the Mediterranean as part of a flotilla. She’d spent most of the time barefoot, her skin burnt from the hot sun, and her hair stiff from seawater. Most of all she remembered feeling alive and free.