For sixteen years it was just me and my dad. Then it was me and Catherine. Now, my world had expanded to include Wyn, Ashley, Lydia and Jackson, but I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to walk into a room as crowded as this one and have everyone know everything about you. These people had a lifetime of shared memories and experiences. First days and field trips, long summer breaks and holiday parties. The only people I knew that well were the characters in my favourite books, and that was a pretty one-sided relationship. I couldn’t really expect the Ilyrians, the Cullen family or a ragtag bunch of hobbits, elves and dwarves to care about my wellbeing.
Very slowly, I melted away from the crowd until I found a wall to lean against, and took my phone out of my purse, adopting the official ‘I’m totally OK no need to look at me’ stance of twenty-first century human beings everywhere. Usually, I had an emotional support book with me at all times but not even my slimmest paperback would fit in the tiny beaded evening bag I’d borrowed from Lydia (and I knew that because I’d tried to shove my dad’s old copy ofFranny and Zooeyin there). I scrolled though the photo albums on my phone instead, keeping my expression neutral. Not too sad in case someone stopped to ask what’s the matter, not too happy in case they wanted to know what I was smiling at. It helped. Right away I felt better and was quietly, calmly marvelling at the freckles scattered across Wyn’s nosewhen I realized his weren’t the only pair of eyes locked on me.
‘Miss Bell, isn’t it?’
The woman standing in front of me was petite, at least three or four inches shorter than I was, but she held herself in a way that made her seem much taller. There wasn’t so much as a hair out of place on her highlighted head and the fine lines that gathered around her eyes and mouth had been pulled taut by a very severe up-do, a tight, tucked-in braid that made my scalp sore just to look at it.
‘You must be Catherine’s granddaughter,’ she said, a declaration rather than a question. She extended a hand in my direction. ‘Why, you’re the very image of her.’
I shook her hand, recovering my manners a moment too late according to the frown on her face. Jackson would have to take back my newly acquired southern belle status.
‘That’s right, I’m Emily. James. Emily James Bell. Still getting used to the new last name – or rather, my old last name. Well, I’m sure you know the whole story.’
Her static smile remained frozen in place as I babbled, making no attempt to help me out of the verbal hole I was digging for myself. When I let go of her hand, she glanced down at her palm, as though touching me might have somehow left a stain.
‘You’re a friend of Cath— of my grandmother’s?’ I asked.
‘Ileen Stovell. I’m sure she must have mentioned me.’
‘NottheIleen Stovell?!’ I said, feigning the surprise she seemed to expect. ‘She talks about you all the time. Constantly, in fact.’
Catherine had not uttered this woman’s name even once in my presence.
Fingertips fluttering at her exposed collarbone, Ileen Stovell continued to stare at me with hawkish blue eyes. Her dresswas a matronly ballgown with a sweetheart neckline, small pink flowers printed on a powder blue background. My grandmother wouldn’t have been caught dead in it.
‘We were so sorry to miss her at the historical society meeting last night,’ she said. ‘It’s so unlike Catherine to miss out, especially when we are graced with a guest speaker.’
I nodded with understanding. ‘I’m sure she was devastated to miss it but, as you know, she’s travelling right now.’
‘So your aunt said. She’s in Europe? Paying her respects to your father?’
That was the official story Ashley and I had agreed on. Something people would accept without question and invited very little follow-up.
‘That’s right,’ I confirmed. ‘She’s spending some time in Wales.’
An indefinite amount of time, I added to myself.
‘A shame he was laid to rest so far from home.’ Ileen’s gaze sharpened. ‘Quite peculiar.’
‘He really loved Wales,’ I said with a shrug, sweating under her interrogation. ‘Who knows why people make the decisions they do?’
After a long pause, she tilted her head to one side with grudging acceptance; not a strand of her hair moved, her whole head was lacquered into some sort of hair helmet.
‘Truer words never spoken,’ she said as she finally broke eye contact to examine her flawless fingernails. I felt my shoulders sag with relief. ‘I do hope she’s having a marvellous time, in spite of the sad circumstances. I have never been to Wales myself but I just know she’ll adore Paris.’
‘Paris?’
My eyes popped wide. Who said anything about Paris?
‘I personally would never choose Paris this late in the summer,’ she went on, thankfully oblivious to my surprise. ‘It’smore of a spring destination, but who could begrudge Catherine a European adventure after all she’s been through.’
My face tightened as I silently cursed Ashley for going off script without telling me.
‘Odd that Catherine would choose to undertake such a journey after all these years without travelling at all,’ Ileen said, flicking her gaze back to me, her eyelids weighed down with too much mascara and just the right amount of suspicion. ‘And to go alone when you have so recently arrived in Savannah. It seems to me you and Ashley might’ve accompanied her.’
‘She wanted to say goodbye to my dad in her own way,’ I replied, reciting my side of the story perfectly. No need to add any more layers to an already precarious house of cards. ‘And Ashley and I have a lot going on.’
‘Such as?’
