“Well,” Edward Thompson said with a satisfied smile. All had gone well as far as he was concerned. They had just left the dock, and they were on their way. They were actually taking Sarah to Europe. “What shall we do now? A walk around the deck? A visit to the shops?” He was looking forward to the trip and to seeing some of his old friends again. And he was thrilled that they had succeeded in convincing Sarah to go to Europe. It was a good time to go. The political situation there had been increasingly tense recently. Who knew what might happen later. If there was a war in a year or two, this might be their last chance to go to Europe.

“I think I’ll unpack,” Sarah said quietly.

“The stewardess will do all of that for you,” her mother explained, but Sarah didn’t care.

“I’d rather see to it myself,” she said, looking bleak in spite of the festive surroundings. There were balloons and streamers and confetti everywhere, from the sailing.

“Shall we meet you in the dining room for lunch?”

“I might take a nap.” She tried to smile at them, but she was thinking how difficult the next two months would be, constantly being with them. She had become used to licking her wounds alone, and although most of the wounds seemed to have healed, the scars were still evident, and she preferred keeping them to herself. She couldn’t imagine being with them night and day, and enduring their constant efforts to cheer her. She had no desire whatsoever to be cheered. She had come to like her solitary life, and her dark thoughts, and her lonely moments. It was not the way she had been before, but it was who and what she had become, thanks to Freddie Van Deering.

“Wouldn’t you rather get some air?” her mother persisted. “You might get seasick if you spend too much time in your cabin.”

“If I do, I’ll come out for a walk then. Don’t worry, Mother. I’m fine,” she said, but neither of her parents was convinced as she went back to her cabin.

“What are we going to do with her, Edward?” Her mother looked glum as they took a walk around the deck, glancing at the other passengers, and then out to sea, thinking about Sarah.

“She’s not easy. I’ll grant you that. I wonder if she’s really as unhappy as she seems, or if she just fancies herself a romantic figure.” He wasn’t sure he understood her anymore, or that he ever had. Sometimes both of his daughters were a mystery to him.

“Sometimes I think being miserable has just become a habit,” Victoria answered him. “I think at first she was genuinely distraught, and hurt, and disappointed, and she was embarrassed about the scandal Freddie had caused. But you know, in the last six months I’ve gotten the feeling that she actually enjoys her life like this. I think she likes being alone, and being something of a recluse. I don’t know why, but she does. She was always very gregarious when she was young, and much more mischievous than Jane. But it’s as though she’s forgotten all that and become someone else now.”

“Well, she’d better become the old Sarah again, and damn soon. This reclusive nonsense of hers just isn’t healthy.” He completely agreed with his wife. He, too, had the feeling that in the past few months she had come to enjoy it. There was something more peaceful about her than there had been, and she seemed more mature, but she certainly didn’t seem happy.

As they went to lunch afterwards, Sarah was sitting quietly in her stateroom, writing a letter to Jane. She never ate lunch anymore. She usually went for a long walk on the beach instead, which is why she stayed so thin. But it was no real sacrifice to her, she was very seldom hungry.

Her parents stopped by to see her after lunch, and found her stretched out on her bed, still in the black dress, but with her hat and shoes off. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t move, but her mother suspected that she wasn’t really sleeping. They left her alone, and came back to find her again an hour later, and she had changed into a gray sweater and slacks, and she was reading a book in a comfortable chair, oblivious of her surroundings.

“Sarah? A walk on the promenade deck? The shops are fabulous.” Victoria Thompson was determined to be persistent.

“Maybe later.” Sarah never took her eyes off her book, and when she heard the door close, she assumed her mother had left the cabin. She raised her eyes then with a sigh, and gave a start when she found herself looking right at her mother. “Oh … I thought you had gone.”

“I know you did. Sarah, I want you to come outside for a walk with me. I am not going to spend this entire trip begging you to come out of your room. You’ve decided to come, now try and do it gracefully, or you’ll ruin it for everyone, particularly your father.” They were always so worried about each other, it amused Sarah sometimes, but right now it annoyed her.

“Why? Why does my presence every moment of the day make any difference? I like being alone. Why does that upset everyone so much?”

“Because it’s not normal. It’s not healthy for a girl your age to be alone all the time. You need people and life and excitement.”

“Why? Who decided that for me? Who is it that said that if you are about to turn twenty-two, you need excitement? I don’t need excitement. I had excitement, and I don’t ever want it again. Why can’t all of you understand that?”

“I do understand, dear. But what you had was not ’excitement,’ it was disappointment, it was a violation of everything that’s decent and good, everything you ever believed in. It was a terrible experience, and we never want you to go through that again. No one wants that to happen to you. But you must go out in the world again. You absolutely have to, or you’ll wither and die, spiritually, inside, where it matters.”

“How do you know that?” Sarah looked distressed by what her mother was saying to her.

“Because I see it in your eyes,” Victoria said wisely. “I see someone dying in there, someone aching and lonely and sad. Someone calling for help, and you won’t let her out so she can get it.” As Sarah listened, her eyes filled with tears, and her mother walked to where she sat and hugged her gently. “I love you very much, Sarah. Please try … please try to come out of yourself again. Trust us … we won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“But you don’t know what it was like.” Sarah began to whimper like a child, ashamed of the emotions, and her inability to control them. “It was so awful … and so wrong. … He was never there, and when he was, it was.” She couldn’t go on, she just cried as she shook her head, bereft of words to describe the feelings, as her mother stroked her long silky hair and held her.

“I know, darling … I know … I can only imagine what it was like. I know it must have been awful. But it’s over And you’re not Your life is just beginning. Don’t give up before you’ve given it a chance. Look around, feel the breeze, smell the flowers, let yourself live again Please …”

Sarah clung to her as she listened to her mother’s words, and finally told her how she felt, as she continued to cry. “I can’t anymore… I’m too afraid….”

“I’m right here with you.” But they hadn’t been able to help her before—until the end, when they’d gotten her out of it But they couldn’t have made Freddie behave, or come home at night, or give up his girlfriends and his prostitutes, and they hadn’t been able to save the baby. She had learned the hard way that there were times when no one else could help you, not even your parents.

“You have to try again, sweetheart. Just in tiny little steps. Father and I will be right here with you” She pulled away from her then, and looked into her daughter’s eyes. “We love you very, very much, Sarah, and we don’t want you hurt again either.”

Sarah closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “I’ll try.” She opened her eyes again then and looked at her mother. “I really will.” And then she panicked. “But what if I can’t do it?”

“Can’t do what?” Her mother smiled at her. “Can’t take a walk with me and Father? Can’t have dinner with us? Can’t meet a few of our friends? I think you can. We won’t ask for too much, and if it really is more than you can do, then you’ll tell us.” It was as though she had become an invalid, and in some ways, she had. Freddie had crippled her, and she knew it The question now was if she could be healed, or helped; if she would recover. Her mother couldn’t bear the thought that maybe she couldn’t. “How about a walk?”

“I look awful. My eyes must be swollen. And my nose always gets red when I cry.” She laughed through her tears as her mother made a face at her.

“That’s the worst piece of nonsense I’ve ever heard. Your nose is not red.” Sarah hopped out of her chair to look in the mirror and gave a shout of disgust.

“It is too! Look at it, it looks like a red potato!”

“Let me see….” Victoria narrowed her eyes and peered at Sarah’s nose as she shook her head. “It must be a very, very small potato. I don’t think anyone will notice anything, if you throw a little cold water on your face, and comb your hair, and maybe even put on a spot of lipstick.” She hadn’t worn makeup in months, and she didn’t seem to care, and up until now, Victoria hadn’t pressed it.

“I didn’t bring any with me.” Sarah looked deliberately vague. She really didn’t know if she wanted to try, but she was touched by what her mother had said, and she didn’t want to be completely uncooperative, even if that meant wearing lipstick.

“I'll give you some of mine. You’re lucky you look as well as you do without it. I look like a sheet of blank paper without makeup.”

“You do not,” Sarah called after her, as her mother crossed the stateroom to her own rooms, to get her daughter some lipstick. She returned a moment later and held it out to her, as Sarah obediently splashed her face with cold water and combed her hair. In her sweater and slacks, with her hair loose past her shoulders, she looked like a young girl again, and her mother smiled as they left the cabin, arm in arm, to find Sarah’s father.