Carlie studied it again. “Thanks. It looks like Agatha’s fiancé was called Lars and the date next to their names says 1923. There’s no surname for either of them.” She rubbed her jaw, thinking. “I wonder why Mum was looking into the past...”

“Well, why not?”

“Whenever I asked her anything about her travels, she told me to look forward and not back. She said I should never look to anyone else for my happiness or I’d end up disappointed.”

“That sounds like Suzy Soo.” Babs smiled. “She always knew where she was going and what she was doing. Not like me. Now please stop rubbing. You’ll smudge your makeup.”

“Sorreee,” Carla said, unaware she’d lifted the saying from Jess. She placed the family tree into her bag.

As she closed her eyes and allowed Babs to apply more shadow, she couldn’t help but wonder why her mum had been looking into their family tree and what she’d hoped to uncover. Perhaps Suzette had been hoping to end their family curse, too.

Twelve

Rocks

“There’ll always be a bed for you here, a base for your travels,” Babs said when she and Carla said goodbye to each other early the next morning. The landlady’s eyes were bleary, her lashes still loaded with last night’s mascara. “Suzy would want it that way.”

Carla hugged her tightly, not really wanting to leave, yet somehow knowing she’d see her new friend again. An idea popped into her mind. “Come to my wedding. Gran would love to hear your stories about my mum. Ask Diego, too.”

“Aw, thanks, petal. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I suppose it gives me an excuse to reach out to my ex-fella.”

“Just like you’re encouraging me to get in touch with mine.”

Babs laughed and batted Carla’s arm. “Now, don’t blame me for any of this.”

Fran appeared and put her suitcase in his car. He sat in the driver’s seat, turning his music up loud and drumming the steering wheel while Babs and Carla shared their final hug.

The two women waved to each other until they were both out of sight, and Carla rested her head back against her seat. There was a lump in her throat, and anticipation squeezed her chest. She wanted to stay with Babs, to discover more photos and stories, but her time overseas was short.

The sea appeared motionless and was the color of brushed steel. A multitude of blue shades merged with lemon and peach in the sky, the start of a beautiful day. Carla had left home only three days ago but it seemed like much longer. It had already allowed her to jettison one ex from her hit list and to discover her mum had been conducting some kind of family quest. She kicked off her orange wedged sandals and rearranged the leopard-print dress Babs had given her.

“Told you that you’d look like a local in no time.” Fran nodded at her. “So, where’s your next port of call?”

“Portugal,” she said. “I’ve booked a hotel there for three nights. What’s next for you?”

Fran stared straight ahead at the road. “I haven’t thought about it much. I’m still having fun with Babs.” He cast Carla a brief look. “Unless you want to take me with you to Portugal?”

Carla wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. The words still having fun sounded temporary and transient, a reminder Fran was passing through Blanca del Mar without putting down any roots. She considered how Babs was busy pursuing the wrong men when the one she really loved, Diego, was there all along. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

When they pulled up at the airport, Carla thanked Fran for all his help and swerved his clumsy attempt at a kiss.

She could never understand how a two-hour flight could result in a journey that took more than double that length of time, from all the waiting around, and she touched down at Faro Airport after noon. Reaching Carvoeiro took a further hour by bus and when Carla arrived at her hotel, she found it was spacious and bright compared to Babs’s Place. Tiny halogen lights bounced off the cream marble flooring in the lobby, and tourists strolled past her carrying various inflatables—flamingos, sharks and loungers.

She dumped her suitcase in her room, not bothering to unpack before she headed back outside. She wanted to make the most of her time here and to enjoy her new surroundings.

Carvoeiro was a small fishing village, less deluged by tourists than some of its larger neighbors. An elevated boardwalk took her to Algar Seco, a spectacular set of rock formations the color of pale copper. They’d become pitted through centuries of seawater and winds, giving them the look of a Martian landscape. She remembered the intriguing world of caves, gnarly towers, tunnels and shallow blue pools that she and Adam had explored, two decades earlier. They’d swum in the bay surrounded by large holes in the rocks that acted as windows onto the seascape and horizon. Afterward they’d ouched as they’d walked barefoot over the hot, sharp stones and let their skin dry in the sunshine.

Next, Carla made her way into the town, where a cluster of whitewashed Mediterranean buildings perched above a horseshoe-shaped bay of golden sand. Holiday villas sprawled along the hillside, and a galleon swept across the shimmering sea, causing toddlers to point excitedly at the “pirate ship.” She could smell coconut and vanilla as couples lovingly rubbed sunscreen onto each other’s bodies or lounged around reading the latest bestseller.

Although her surroundings were beautiful, a touch of homesickness made Carla feel listless and alone. She had no one to tell about a kitten she’d spotted asleep on the seat of a moped or to point out mother-of-pearl earrings she loved in a shop window.

She was hungry and thirsty after her flight and took a seat at a beachfront café.

Eating outside in the sunshine could make any food taste like a gourmet meal, and she ordered Diet Coke and an omelet. Feeling conspicuous among all the couples and families around her, Carla messaged Babs to say she’d arrived safely on the Algarve.

Her phone rang while she was still holding it, and her spirits leaped when she saw Tom’s name appear on the screen. “Hi there,” she said cheerily, running a hand through her hair.

“I can’t believe we’ve got a clear line for once,” Tom replied. “Sorry the signal’s been terrible out here. Between that, work and the time difference, it’s been tricky to keep in touch. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

Carla moved her face to feel the warmth of the sun on her cheeks. “I’m really missing you,” she said with a sigh.

“Me, too.” Tom voice also sounded rueful. “I’m guessing it’s after lunchtime where you are? I’m just waiting for my eggs and bacon to arrive in my room.”

“I thought it was all pancakes and black coffee out there. It’s midafternoon here,” Carla said, smiling at the waiter when he brought her drink. “How’s everything going?”

“Absolutely great, I’m having the best time. Though I wish you were here,” he added. “Everyone seems to love my work, saying it’s awesome.” He affected an American accent.

“That’s because your games are brilliant.”

“Don’t.” He laughed. “I’ll get all bigheaded and then my top hat won’t fit for our wedding. Anyway, what have you been up to? Did you say you’re in Barcelona with Jess?”

Carla bit her lip, not quite able to remember the last thing she’d told him. “I actually came here on my own. I’ve been in Barcelona shopping, sightseeing and staying with Babs, one of my mum’s old friends. She owns a little karaoke bar on the Costa Brava.”

“Oh,” Tom said. “That doesn’t sound very cultural or relaxing.”

“No, but it’s been nice talking to her about Mum. They went traveling around Europe together in their twenties and it’s been fun seeing some old photos. Babs gave me a family tree that Mum had been working on.”

“Did all your relatives fit onto one piece of paper?” Tom laughed. “Mine would fit on a postage stamp.”

“There’s a few gaps and question marks, and the tree ends in the 1920s.” Carla stirred the ice cubes in her glass with her straw for a few moments. When an image of Pedro and his ruby-capped tooth appeared in her mind, she squirmed in her chair. “I’ve actually moved on to Portugal now.”

“Right.” Tom fell quiet as he absorbed this fact. “That was quick. What was wrong with Spain?”

“Nothing at all. I found out someone I know is performing here tomorrow night and I want to check out his gig.” She followed her words with a pause, gathering the courage to tell him more about her mission. “He’s actually someone I met ages ago, during my gap year...”

“Oh, great, that’s a coincidence,” Tom interrupted. “The same thing has happened to me, too.”

Carla placed down her glass with a thud. “It has?”

“I bumped into someone I went to university with, Sara. We both studied engineering and then worked for the same business for a while. It’s been nice to have some company out here.”

Questions queued up in Carla’s head, such as, was Sara the smiling blonde in his Instagram shots, and how close had she and Tom once been? She pictured them laughing over after-work cocktails and tried not to affect a cool tone. “Is she also working at the convention?” she asked, trying to feign indifference.

“Yeah, she’s a designer, too, though more on the electronic side of things. I really love her work and she’s been singing my praises to all her contacts.”

“Fabulous,” Carla said, using a word not usually in her vocabulary. Her guilt and jealousy battled for supremacy, and she reminded herself that Tom and Sara had met by accident, whereas she was meeting her exes intentionally. “I need to be honest with you about something,” she told him. “That musician I’m going to see, well, we once had a bit of a thing together.”

Tom was silent again for a few seconds. “What’s his name? Have you told me about him before?”