And she wondered then if she had ever really been ready for it. Because although she thought she knew why she had never opened the door, what about Tom? What had stopped him from knocking? Had he not wanted to see her? Perhaps they had both feared the consequence of reality. In their version of a shared life they couldn’t get it wrong, couldn’t hurt each other, at least no more than either of them already had. There was no disappointment, no mistakes. But the dream was finally over. Now she was here in London, and she couldn’t fail to knock on his door this time. Now she had to face reality, all the things they’d said and all the things they hadn’t.
After a while she composed herself, continued down the street filled with different styles of home—Victorian, Georgian, cottages she couldn’t date. London really was the melting pot people described it as. The streets all looked different to her, but eventually she found the house she thought she recognized. A man in his fifties opened the door.
“Yes?” he asked.
A portly face stared back at her, a soft body inadequately hidden by a stained white undershirt. It made her think of a poster Kate had in her bedroom as a teenager, that action hero with no hair who liked to swear a lot. “I was looking for Thomas Hale,” she said, unable to hide her mounting disappointment. “I’m sorry, he must have moved.”
“Think you might have the wrong house,” said the man, chewing on a half-eaten doughnut.
“Yes, my mistake,” she said, going to turn away. “It was a long time ago.”
“No, lady, you don’t get what I mean. I was born here, fifty-odd years ago.” Elizabeth stopped, took another look at the man, before standing back to review the house. “Before that it was me mum that lived here, so I don’t think you’ve got the right place.”
Was it possible? Even on a second glance the house looked the same to her. “What number is this?”
“Fifty-three.”
She sighed. “That’s what I was looking for.” She handed him the piece of paper.
“Got the wrong road, love. Just keep going that way,” he said, pointing down the road, “and you’ll come across it.”
And sure enough it didn’t take long before she found herself facing the house she recognized as his. Although the previous house had seemed familiar, this time she knew she was right, could feel that she’d been there before in the nerves that simmered through her. She could see the bench she had once sat on, waiting for the courage to knock on the door. This time she wasn’t going to let her fears get the better of her.
Her heart was pounding as she pushed open the gate, her mouth dry. The path was short, nowhere near long enough to give her the time she needed for last-minute preparations. What was she going to find? As she stood on the step, her knuckles braced to knock, she realized she was on the cusp of everything she had wished for throughout her life. He was just on the other side of the door, or at least she hoped he was. When she heard a woman’s voice, she hesitated a moment longer. His wife? Oh, good Lord, she thought as her nerves took over. What on earth was she doing? What was she going to say to her? Her hand fell, her feet shuffling backward, but before she could change her mind the door opened. And standing on the other side was a woman, a bit younger than Kate, who must be—undoubtedly, if the black hair was anything to go by—Tom’s daughter.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
Could she? Why hadn’t Elizabeth prepared anything to say? “I was looking for Mr. Hale, Tom. Thomas Hale,” she said, the tremor in her voice betraying her nerves.
The woman glanced down at the suitcase. “And you are?”
“An old friend from a long time ago.”
The woman thought for a moment, seemingly nonplussed by the idea, before looking down to check her watch. “I have to go now. He’s not really up to visitors.”
But then she heard his voice. “Who is it, Alice?” It was unmistakably Tom, and Elizabeth had to summon all her strength not to barge past and rush to him. “Tell them we’re not interested.”
That seemed to raise a smile on both Alice’s and Elizabeth’s faces. “He’s not at his best at the moment. Maybe you could come back later, or tomorrow?”
But Elizabeth hadn’t come all this way to leave so easily, not now that she knew he was right there. “If I could just say hello. I’ve come all the way from Cornwall.”
“From Cornwall?” Something, Elizabeth wasn’t sure what, registered on Alice’s face then. “Okay, maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Follow me.”
Closing the door gently behind her, Elizabeth couldn’t believe she was in his house. Nervous shakes took over her body, and for a moment she became that same awkward girl who first stepped foot inside his cottage. “What did you say your name was?” Alice asked as they headed down the hall, but she didn’t have time to answer.
“It’s Elizabeth,” Tom said, standing with a stick in the doorway, his hair gray, his frame small. Smaller than she remembered, at least. Tears welled in Elizabeth’s eyes; she felt unable to breathe, and despite all the things she had longed to say, all words failed her. He smiled then, and the thought that he was pleased to see her made her heart pound against her chest, her fingers tingle. A moment of absolute relief. “How did you know where to find me?”
Alice stepped closer to her, her mouth limp with shock, as if she’d just seen a ghost. “You’re Elizabeth?” She turned to her father. “The Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” said Tom to Alice, although his gaze never once left Elizabeth. “I was hoping you would come. I never thought you would, but I’m so glad you did.”
* * *
“Why don’t we go through to the living room?” Alice eventually said. Despite his appearance, which was that of an old man, Elizabeth could see the eighteen-year-old boy she had fallen for all those years before as she followed, feeling Alice’s eyes on her all the way. Her hands shook with wanting, desperate to reach out, hug him, kiss his lips. But she did none of those things.
“Elizabeth,” he said, stepping forward. His hands hovered close by; little white tufts of hair sprouted from his knuckles, his hands speckled with liver spots on the back. She wanted to touch him, but Alice’s presence held her back. “I’m so pleased to see you.”
“Me too,” she said after a moment, her voice shaking. He reached up and moved to touch her cheek, yet without warning she pulled away. Just for a second, the reality of what was happening was all too much. His hand dropped, and the moment was lost.
“Does one of you want to explain what’s going on?” Alice said as she followed them into the living room. “Did you call her, Dad?” Elizabeth felt like an alien just arrived on Earth, unwelcome in the shadow of the photographs on the wall, images of a life she knew nothing about. Where was his wife? What would Mrs. Hale say when she came home to find Elizabeth here? How could she explain what had brought her here today?
“No,” Tom said. “I didn’t have her number,” he added, as if that were an excuse. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it this year.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Elizabeth said, as if she hadn’t spent most of that morning in tears over his absence.