“I’ve had enough of the past to last a long, long time. My brother, Shane.” She pointed at him. “He might want to see the photos and know everything about this place. He runs the pub now.”

“Yes,” Beckett said. “I’ve talked to him.”

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Colleen nodded at him and set off for the front door just as it opened and in walked Brad Young, dapper in his police uniform. He caught Colleen’s eye and smiled with a wave. Yep, Watersend exactly—you couldn’t escape your past or your mistakes, even if they’d only happened the day before. Colleen waved in return and wound her way through the familiar maze of tables to the front door.

Chairs were set upside down on the tables waiting to be set up, their legs sticking up like miniature tree trunks in a man-made forest. Soon a bartender and waitresses would wander in wearing green polo shirts with The Lark and the emblem emblazoned on the breast pocket. They would take down the chairs and hum along to the fiddle player, set condiments on each table to accompany the few menu items that hadn’t changed in fifteen years. Shepherd’s pie. Fish and chips. Pub fries. A mixed salad for those who cared. But no one came there for the food. They gathered for the music and the camaraderie and for Gavin and his wisdom and his terrible jokes and to hear him say, “Well, as the Irish say . . .”

From across the room, Colleen heard Hallie’s voice as she called to her children, “My adorables, let’s be on the move.”

Colleen froze in midstep, her heart catching on the phrase. She glanced backward; Hallie was walking with a hand stretched out for each child. Their gazes caught and the sisters stood still and quiet in the slice of time that couldn’t belong to anyone else. No one could know what hidden doorway was opened to another time as Hallie repeated a call and a gesture their mother had said and done until they were too old to hold her hands, old enough to be embarrassed by the phrase “my adorables,” grown enough to roll their eyes at each other and run from their mother, holding only each other’s hands.

The girls and Hallie reached Colleen’s side, and Hallie said softly, “I know.” Then she opened the door, and afternoon light shot through in a single burst and then scattered across the room. In identical movements the sisters brought their palms to their brows to shade their eyes. Hallie stepped into the light and closed the door, leaving Colleen inside.

THE MEMORY BOOK

Interview with Aunt Rosalind and Uncle Fred