She remembered the nights she and Ruth had lain on the banks of the river in Oxford and talked until dawn. Kathleen had been an only child and for a while, with Ruth, she’d tasted what life might have been like if she’d had a sister. There had been nothing she didn’t know about Ruth, and nothing Ruth didn’t know about her. She’d truly believed that nothing would ever get in the way of their friendship.

She placed her finger on the photograph, touching Ruth’s smile and remembering the sound of her laugh.

Brian had encouraged her to make a trip to California, but she’d refused.

She’d been cowardly.

Kathleen felt something stir inside her.

She looked up and there was Popeye, standing in the doorway of the living room, the angle of his head suggesting he was less than impressed by the number of people currently crowding his territory. He stalked across to Kathleen with a swish of his tail.

Kathleen put the album down and scooped up her cat who tolerated a few moments of affection before easing himself away from her grasp and heading into the kitchen.

Dear Popeye. If he could have an adventure, why couldn’t she? Instead of sitting here reliving things that had happened in the past, she should be living in the present.

Liza picked up the abandoned photo album. “I’m sorry if looking at these upset you.”

“They didn’t upset me. They made me think.” Kathleen felt stronger. “They made me realize it’s time to do something I should have done a long time ago.”

“You mean clear out the albums?”

“No.” Was courage one of those things that dwindled with age, along with memory and muscle tone? “Sit down, Liza.”

Liza joined her on the sofa without question, her brows meeting in an anxious frown. “Mum?”

“I’m lucky to have a daughter who cares about my welfare. Look at you, driving up here on the weekend to be with me when you have such a busy life of your own. I am grateful to you for all the research you’ve done on residential homes—” she looked at Liza “—but I won’t be needing the information yet.” Never, she thought, but she didn’t say that because she suspected she needed to give her daughter the idea that she might see sense at some point.

“Mum—”

“I know you’re acting out of love, but I’m in sound mind and capable of making my own decision on what’s best for me.”

Liza’s expression was one of pure frustration.