Stubborn. So like her father. Kathleen hadn’t been interested in marriage after everything that had happened. Fortunately for her, Brian had refused to accept that. If he hadn’t been so persistent and proposed three times, she would have missed out on the happy life she’d had. She never would have had Liza, who was now staring at her nervously, worried about her next move.

“You can’t stay here, Mum.”

“I don’t intend to, but nor do I intend to move into a home and wait patiently for death.”

“Not death, but—”

“I’m going to take a trip to California.” It was a big place. There was no likelihood that she would bump into someone she didn’t want to see.

“Cali—” Liza choked. “Are you kidding? That’s a twelve-hour flight.”

“I won’t be flying all the way. I’m taking a road trip across America. Route 66.” The moment she said the words she felt her insides lurch with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Was this bold or foolish?

It didn’t matter. She’d waited long enough. Too long. She wasn’t going to let the past stop her from doing something she’d always wanted to do.

But even without the emotional pressure, it was an ambitious trip. There were days when her bones ached so badly she could barely drag herself from her bed, and here she was blithely talking about driving two thousand four hundred miles—she hated thinking in kilometers—as if it was nothing more than a trip to the village.

Sean was the first to speak. “Exciting. How can we help?”

Dear boy.

Liza opened her mouth but Kathleen spoke first. “I’d appreciate a lift to the airport when I’ve made all the plans.” She almost asked for help booking her flight, but she knew she’d have to find the confidence to do that herself. Ridiculous that the thought of a flight booking scared her more than a road trip. She found it impossible to believe that pressing a button and inserting a credit card number was enough to ensure her a seat on a plane.

Liza finally found her voice. “Route 66? You can’t possibly be serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. I’ve already done the research.” Kathleen thought about the box file under the desk in her study, bulging with maps and guidebooks.

“But why California? If you want sunshine, then come to the South of France with us. Or is it because you want to see Ruth after all these years?”

“I don’t know if Ruth is still there. She might have moved, or—” She might be dead. At their age, it was a distinct possibility. But this trip wasn’t about Ruth. Kathleen had no wish to see her, and she was sure Ruth would feel the same way.

The past could never be undone.