‘Would you look at all those gulls,’ Ruth said. ‘There must be a school of herring out there.’
As they rested on a nearby bench, Ruth’s eyes took on a faraway look. ‘After his marriage, I don’t recall seeing much of him. At one point, I heard they’d moved to Boston when Mr Stern took a job at a bigger firm. I thought they were gone for good, but they only stayed for a few years, and I still remember my surprise at seeing his wife at the grocery store, pushing a lively little boy in a stroller. I don’t know why they left Boston. But by that time, I was married to Marvin and busy with my own life.
‘The Sterns had bought a house quite a way out of town. The few times I saw his wife she was no longer the vivacious girl she used to be. Still attractive, but something wasn’t quite right. Being a pharmacist, Marvin was bound by confidentiality, and couldn’t say, but I suspected those prescriptions she had filled were some kind of sedative. “Mother’s little helper”, we used to call them. Mr Stern was working for a law firm in Portland then, and he seemed to be out of town a lot.’ She hesitated. ‘There were rumours of affairs.’
*
Back at Ruth’s flat, Erin pulled out her notebook and flipped through the pages. History girl, mystery girl? She’d been so caught up in Ruth’s memories of Tim’s father, she’d forgotten to ask. ‘Do you remember if Tim had a girlfriend, or maybe a girl he was especially fond of?’ She carried the tea tray into the kitchen. The least she could do was help with the washing up before heading home.
Ruth pulled off her walking shoes and slid her feet into a pair of carpet slippers. ‘A girlfriend? Not that I’m aware of. He was on the shy side and, as far as I could tell, something of a loner.’
‘Were you aware of any trouble at home?’
Ruth pinched off a yellowed leaf from one of the cyclamens. ‘Not at the time, though I suppose, in retrospect…’ Her voice fell away. ‘Isabel, the older sister, was in my freshman English class. A darling girl. Everyone doted on her, the father included. In fact, it was Mr Stern who came to parents’ night the year Isabel was in my class. He didn’t come to Tim’s, which I thought was strange at the time, but he was keen to ask me about his daughter’s progress. His eyes shone when he spoke about her, as if she were the light of his life. The other girl too… What was her name? Carla, I think, or maybe Carol. Anyway, I would sometimes see him in town with the two girls, buying ice creams or coming out of a movie matinee. A devoted father, at least where the girls were concerned.’
And Tim? Erin was anxious to learn more about the relationship between father and son. While she washed the cups and set them on the rack to drain, she thought how nice it would be to linger for a while longer. Perhaps whip up something in the kitchen and share a meal at Ruth’s table. She dreaded the long drive back to Lansford, where nothing awaited but the empty flat and the grey fog of loneliness that had dogged her for weeks.
Dusk brought shadows into the room and Ruth switched on a lamp. ‘Is that a quetzal?’
‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘The pendant around your neck.’
Usually tucked inside her clothing, Erin wasn’t aware the quetzal had swung free.
‘I was travelling in Mexico last year and saw something similar in a village market,’ Ruth said. ‘They were everywhere, in fact. Carved in wood or silver, painted on ceramic bowls. I wish I’d seen a live one, with their magnificent jewelled plumage. Sacred bird of the Mayans. Symbol of freedom.’ Her eyes crinkled. ‘Though I’m sure you know that. Listen to me peppering you with trivia. An occupational hazard, I’m afraid.’
Erin hastily buttoned her coat, as the bottled-up tears threatened to overwhelm her. In the narrow vestibule by the door, Ruth clasped Erin’s arm and sought her eyes. When Ruth spoke, it was scarcely above a whisper. ‘I’m so glad to see you’re all right.’
Erin stood rooted to the floor.
‘Those two summers you didn’t come into the library,’
Ruth said. ‘I was worried something had happened to you.’
The room tilted, and she grabbed the coat rack for support. Ruth knows who I am? But how…? Erin could barely meet the older woman’s eyes.
‘I was confused by the name at first,’ Ruth said, holding Erin’s hands firmly in her own. ‘Not to mention your English accent. But it struck me you might have made a new life for yourself.’ She looked away, as if to give Erin a chance to recover. ‘When summer rolled around that one year and I didn’t see you, I made a few discreet inquiries.’ Ruth’s eyes were sad, her hands trembled. ‘You were such an anxious child. Terrified of something, that much was clear. I remember once dropping a dictionary on the floor, and you leapt up like a scalded cat. Petrified. Like you were being chased by a pack of wolves. When I found out you’d been sent away, and where, I was devastated.’
Erin’s palms tingled. Would her aunt Olivia have said something? It was a small town. Perhaps the two women were friends.
‘So, what a relief to have you turn up at my door, after all these years,’ Ruth said, wiping her eyes. ‘Right as rain.’
At a loss for words, Erin blushed with shame that she wasn’t straight with Ruth from the beginning.
‘That awful woman…’ She cupped Erin’s face in her hands. ‘I’m so glad to know you’re okay. Better than okay. Good for you,
