I don’t get further than the screen door before I’m aware of a difference in atmosphere. The house feels alive. And there’s a strong smell of tobacco. For a second, I think Dad’s home. But I find a stranger in the kitchen, he and Mom deep in conversation. He’s silver-haired, with a generous moustache, sitting at our table looking quite at home, one ankle balanced on his other knee like a much younger man, a cigar between his fingers. I’m pretty certain he doesn’t come from this neighbourhood, not in that tailored linen suit and those fancy brogues.
‘Mom?’
She turns to me, and the animation in her face makes me catch my breath. I haven’t seen her look like this for years. Maybe not ever.
‘Why, there she is!’ she exclaims, getting up and coming over to me. ‘My daughter, Catrin.’
I stand, awkward, confused, while the silver-haired man appraises me thoughtfully, nodding as if he’s delighted by what he sees.
‘Catrin, say hello to your uncle. This is my brother, Daniel.’
‘Daniel?’ I shake my head. ‘Holy shit. You came.’
‘Soon as I got your letter.’ He climbs to his feet, extends his hand to take mine. ‘I’ve been waiting for this. Knew Lydia would need us eventually. That man – excuse me, I know he’s your daddy – he was always gonna end up in the gutter.’ His grip is warm and firm. ‘No gentleman runs off into the night with his bride-to-be. No, ma’am. Broke our mother’s heart.’ He kisses the back of my hand and releases me.
‘Now, Daniel, don’t you say another word, or I’ll start crying again.’ Mom flutters her hands like two broken wings.
‘Don’t fret, Lydia.’ Daniel pats her arm. He turns to me and clears his throat. His eyes are the exact same colour as Mom’s. ‘I’ve come to tell you that you have a home with me back in South Carolina. My wife died three years ago and I live alone. We never were blessed with children. I’d be happy and proud to have you both come live with me.’
Mom sits down, skirts settling in folds. She dabs at the corners of her eyes with a hanky rustled up from a pocket. ‘Think of it! I’m going home,’ she murmurs. ‘After all these years.’
‘What about Dad?’ Things are moving so fast, I feel dizzy. I drop into a chair next to her.
She recoils at the mention of him. ‘You know I can’t visit him in that place. I won’t.’ A note of hysteria has entered her voice.
‘There, there, darlin’. Nobody’s gonna make you.’ Daniel pats her arm again. He looks at me, concern etched into his elegant, aged face. ‘No lady should have to enter a penitentiary.’
‘Why did you never come before?’ I ask him. ‘All this time. Not a word.’
‘It’s a sad waste of years, Catrin.’ He inclines his head, closes his eyes briefly. ‘After Lydia ran off, our daddy wouldn’t have her name spoken in the house. Forbade us from mentioning her again. But now that he’s dead, God rest his soul, and your daddy incarcerated, we can be a family again.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I lean across and whisper to Mom. ‘Are you leaving Dad?’
She gives a short, high-pitched laugh. ‘I stood by him our whole marriage. Lord knows it was hard. He broke my heart a long time ago. Now,’ she lifts her large eyes to the ceiling, ‘I have nothing left to give him.’
‘But he’ll be counting on you being here when he gets out.’
She presses her lips together, narrows her eyes. ‘I can’t be his wife any longer.’ The muscles in her neck pull tight. ‘I made a mistake, Catrin. All those years ago. I should have listened to my daddy. He knew better. Always did.’
We have supper together. The first meal Mom’s cooked since Dad’s arrest: baked sweet potatoes and fried catfish. As we eat, we snatch stunned glances at each other. Mom and her brother talk about people I’ve never heard of, pull out old memories, examining them. Mom breaks down in tears, and next minute she’s laughing. Daniel tells us about his house and garden, the magnolia trees outside the veranda, a pond full of snapping turtles. He says there’s a grand piano waiting for Mom in the parlour. Explains what bedrooms he plans each of us to have. Mom listens with shining eyes.
‘Oh, you’ll love it there, Cat,’ she tells me. ‘The South is in your blood.’
Uncle Daniel is staying in my room, tidied in a hurry. I’m on the couch. I can’t sleep for thinking about the evening – about how different Mom was with her brother – and the planned move to South Carolina. I fidget on the narrow cushions, rearranging the pillow under my cheek, thinking of Dad, and how he doesn’t know his marriage is over. The one time I visited, he seemed reduced by his surroundings, older and smaller than I’d remembered. I don’t want to have to tell him about Mom, but I don’t have a choice. He needs to know. I don’t blame her. He betrayed her; lied to her every day. She lost respect for him – there’s no hope for love after that. I curl around my sadness, hugging it close. There’s no denying, though, that Daniel’s offer is the best thing that could have happened. It’s like I can breathe again.
It’s barely past dawn when I sit up on the lumpy cushions, heart racing. The idea came to me at a slant. Or maybe Frank whispered it while I was sleeping. Come on, Cat, you know South Carolina isn’t your destiny. If I’m not mistaken, there’s another place calling your name. You’ve been dreaming of going as long as I can remember, and now you’ve a reason. Find a way, Cat. Find Sam. You know you can if you want to. Get to London. Get to Hampstead. Leo Dunn lives there, remember? The widower from the funeral. Isn’t that where Sam lives too? There’s the bench on the Heath he told you about – find it, and you’ll find him. There’s nothing to stop you any more.
I stumble up, pulling on my clothes from the night before, panic making me gasp, because I have no idea if I’m in time to catch Leo Dunn and his daughter, Grace, before they leave Atlantic City.