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a big celebration when she finally changed her name by deed poll. But her father still called her Lucinda-Jayne and she wouldn’t dream of correcting him.
    More recognition blossomed in Muriel’s eyes, although it should have been an inferno of recognition by now—I was the only one of Del’s friends she’d met over the years. Del wasn’t exactly rushing back to the bosom of her family at every opportunity so she took only one person back home with her—me.
    “Yes, I remember who you are.” A slur streaked Muriel’s voice. Was it sherry, wine or gin and tonic she’d been spending time with today? They’d been her constant companions when we’d met years ago. Obviously nothing had changed.
    “So, can I see Tegan?” I asked, when it became clear she wasn’t about to say anything else.
    “She’s not available right now,” she replied.
    “She’s out?”
    “No. She’s not receiving visitors.”
    “A five-year-old isn’t receiving visitors?” I replied, irritated and incredulous in equal measures. “Somehow, I can’t imagine her saying, ‘If anyone calls, tell them I shall be out.’”
    Muriel sneered down her nose as if I was something smelly and disgusting she’d trodden in. “The little madam is being punished,” she said contemptuously, “if it’s any business of yours.”
    “It is my business.” Every one of my words was carefully modulated to prevent me screaming. “I’m her godmother. I’ve been asked to look after her if anything happens to her mother.”
    “You will have to call another time because, as I explained, she is being punished.”
    The woman moved to shut the door, and all the rage, the hatred and anger simmering inside erupted. I lunged forward, every muscle in my body tensed as the palm of my hand slapped against the blue door and held it open. “Punished for what?” I said.
    Having jumped slightly at my advance, Muriel glanced away.
    “Punished for what?” I asked, a snarling edge to my voice.
    Muriel said nothing.
    “I’d like to see her.”
    “She isn’t allowed to see anyone.”
    “I’m not leaving until I see her.”
    She lowered her voice. “I can’t let you in. You don’t know what Ronald will do to me if I let you see her.”
    “You obviously don’t know what I’ll do to you if you don’t,” I said in a tone that was menacing and scary, even to me. I was certain I’d heard that line in a movie but it was out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Traveling two hundred miles in a day, seeing my friend on the verge of death, now coming back to this place where Del had suffered so much…All of this had shaped my mood.
    Muriel’s body relaxed in resignation as she let go of the door, turned and headed up the large staircase, muttering just loud enough, “It’s not even as if we want her here.”
    I let out a deep, silent breath of relief—
what if she’d made me stand up to her for real?
Best not to think about it.
    The house hadn’t changed much from eight years ago when Del and I had made a flying visit to get the rest of the clothes and books she had left here. The trip had been an excuse. She’d lived without those things for years, why decide she desperately needed them now? I guessed that Del had returned to make peace with her father, to reach out to him one last time. He’d been ultrapolite because she’d had a guest with her but also excessively dismissive. It was one of the most chilling things I’d ever seen (and the second I was alone later, I called my parents for a quick chat). When we climbed into the back of the taxi, Del didn’t have to tell me she intended never to return there, I knew it. She’d done her best to reconnect with her family and now she had to leave it.
    The same cream carpet I remembered lined the floors, the same magnolia paint covered the walls, the same depressing pictures of country scenes hung on those magnolia walls. The atmosphere was the only thing that was different—it had stagnated. Had