As Marion Hartley drove down Main Street, she remembered how, during their first encounter, Emil had taken her hand in his and instead of shaking it, had held it as he searched for words to say and failed to find them, thus making her aware of the sheer depth of feeling between them. One moment they were strangers, and the next they found themselves in something so honest, undeniable and profound as to be overwhelming. And to think that when she had first felt it, Marion had not recognised it for what it was – that she had mistaken it for simple physical attraction.

The feeling had not been as fooled as she had been. It had followed her everywhere. It had made her write seemingly innocuous letters she never posted. It had occasionally woken her up in the middle of the night with a start. It had stayed with her so long that it became an old and familiar friend. It had been very patient with her and had not let her go until she had called it by its truest name.

That old and familiar feeling was the reason why she had journeyed so far, and why she was now turning the red Aster onto a small untarred road that led to a farmstead. Once at her destination, Marion parked the car next to a verdant lawn bordered by all manner of colourful flowers. A woman was sitting in the middle of it all on a white wrought-iron bench. She waited for Marion to turn off the car’s engine before she put aside the plate of pastries resting on her lap and turned the Mills & Boon she had been reading face-down.

‘You don’t see those every day,’ the woman said as she motioned towards the car.

‘And more’s the pity,’ Marion said as she alighted.

‘Don’t make them like they used to,’ the woman said.

‘No, they don’t,’ Marion said as she walked tentatively towards the woman. She stopped where the flowers began. ‘Mrs Alcott?’

‘Mrs Louisa Alcott,’ the woman corrected.

‘Mrs Louisa Alcott,’ Marion said. ‘My name is Marion Hartley. I am here because I read about your Emil Coetzee sightings.’

Mrs Louisa Alcott’s demeanour changed slightly. ‘You one of those who don’t believe me?’ she asked.

‘No, no … I am not one of those,’ Marion said. ‘In fact, I was wondering if I could join you.’

‘Join me?’

‘For a sighting. It’s his birthday today,’ Marion said.

Mrs Louisa Alcott looked at her for some time, and then made room for her on the bench. ‘Please feel free,’ she said.

Marion sat on the bench, and when Mrs Louisa Alcott offered her a koeksister, she graciously accepted it.

‘Radio says it’s Independence Day today,’ Mrs Louisa Alcott said.

‘It is that and more,’ Marion said. ‘So much more.’

Spokes

SPOKES