We see Erica in a wheelchair, in the slanting light of the afternoon, which sifts through the leaded glass windows of her living room. She stares dreamily at the shadows of trees outside, dancing on the wall inside. She’s rhythmically stroking the cat on her lap, as if to music we can’t hear. Her eyes are bright and lucid. We follow her gaze to the shadows, and watch as they mutate into the images she’s reacting to – the face of a handsome, moustached man, he’s playing a guitar with a cigar dangling out of the side of his mouth, smoke curling up around his face – the lazy smoke becomes churning, billowing clouds pouring out of the Palacio de la Moneda, and then fluffy cumulous clouds seen through an aeroplane window. Erica jolts upright when there’s a brisk ring of her doorbell. We hear the bustling, clucking sound of Florence, Erica’s portly carer, coming from the kitchen at the back of the house, rubber soled shoes squeaking on the floorboards as she goes to open the door.

“Oh, Miss Society – it’s you!” she exclaims. “Who is this mysterious visitor you’re so anxious for Aunty Erica to meet?”

“Florence! Hi! This is José Katanga, or so he says. He’s a musician who was in Santiago in 1973. He knows some of the same people Aunty Erica knew in those days. He wants to meet her and ask about them.”

“Mmmmm – Miss Society. You know she mustn’t have too much stimulation. It makes her have seizures….”

“Please Florence – I’m sure she’d be happy to meet someone from her past. You know how she thinks about it all the time….”

Behind Florence we can see Erica perking up and showing interest. “Who’s there, Florence?”

“Mmmmm – just for a few minutes, then. Please, don’t get her over-excited… It’s Miss Society – I told you, remember – she’s brought a friend… says he was in Santiago back in those days. He wants to meet you…”

Erica’s face brightens, and she murmurs dreamily “Santiago……. back in those days…”

Florence leads Miss Society and Looking Backwards Man to the living room. “Ten minutes. Don’t get her upset, now…” She disappears back into the kitchen, clearly disapproving.

“Aunty Erica, this is… this is… José Katanga. We got chatting at my gig yesterday, and discovered that he was in Santiago the same time as you… he thinks that you probably knew many of the same people… maybe even met…”

Erica visibly recoils as she and Looking Backwards Man lock eyes. “Erica, I think you may remember me. I was a friend of José Rojas before he was arrested. We wrote some songs together. I wasn’t taken to the stadium like him, but I was also arrested later on… everything’s a bit foggy – I think they gave me memory-affecting drugs…” Erica shudders, as if in pain, and her lips draw taut and thin. “I wrote that song, the one Miss Society played yesterday, while I was in prison… I just had to meet you again when I heard her sing it… It was like a body blow to be thrown back into those  times so unexpectedly…” Erica looks at him coldly. 

“I know the song you mean… but I don’t know the songwriter…” She spits the words out, each phrase bursting out as a gasp.

“I thought I saw Violeta Verde going into the place Miss Society was playing at. Wonder what on earth she’s doing round these parts?” Erica screeches “Violeta Verde disappeared in 1973……you know what that means…!” Looking Backwards Man eyes her speculatively. 

“Do you know something I don’t know?” he says with a sly smile. Erica’s eyes screw up in fury as she lurches forward. 

“You lowlife! Have you no shame? If anyone knows what happened to her, it’s you! You betrayed her, and you betrayed José!”

“Erica, you’ve given yourself away – you can’t pretend you don’t know me. I came here because I want to set the record straight, and I want to make amends for my past. I’m ashamed of many of the things I did, but betraying José wasn’t one of them.” Erica hisses at him. 

“Anyone who got close to you disappeared!” Looking Backwards Man winces and then sneers. 

“Well, Violeta didn’t get close to me. It was you who told me about her. She got a bit too close to José for your liking, didn’t she?” Erica gives a small cry, like that of a trapped animal, her eyes wild as she falls back in the wheelchair, lips moving, but only garbled sounds coming out. Nina’s hair is raised and she shows her fangs and hisses softly.

Miss Society has been watching this exchange with gaping mouth. She jumps forward to clasp Erica’s hand. “Aunty Erica! Are you OK?!”, but Erica doesn’t react – she is twitching, and talking to herself. Her eyes are fixed on the shadows on the wall opposite her. We draw closer and can make out some distraught words. 

“José, how could you…? My mind… it’s full of your smoke…”

Florence has heard Miss Society’s exclamation and rushes back into the room. “I told you not to upset her! Out! Out you go. That’s quite enough now”. She shoos the crestfallen Miss Society and white-faced Looking Backwards Man towards the door and pushes them outside. “She needs to rest now – off you go. She can’t manage excitement….I’m sorry” she nods apologetically, but firmly to Miss Society, ignoring Looking Backwards Man, and unceremoniously shuts the door on the two of them. 

Miss Society is furious. “I would never have brought you here if I’d known you were going to do that! What the hell did you do back in Santiago?! You didn’t tell me you knew Aunty Erica!” Looking Backwards Man’s eyes are wide and inscrutable. 

“I’m sorry. That didn’t go the way I hoped it would. I’m sorry I wasn’t entirely honest with you, but you knew there was more to my story from the start anyway, didn’t you?” He seems to have tears in his eyes, and Miss Society softens.

“Perhaps…….did you really write my song? Did you really know José before he was arrested?”

At this moment the Tourist appears. “Are you Miss Society? Did Emily tell you I would be coming to see your Aunt Erica?” Miss Society is taken aback. 

“Oh, my hat! I forgot about you. Emily said you’d meet us here, but there’s no chance of meeting Aunt Erica now – I’m so sorry. She’s had a seizure, and her carer Florence threw us out. I’m sure Florence will have put her to bed by now. She’s had enough drama for one day.”

The Tourist’s face drops. His disappointment is palpable. “Emily showed me your Aunt Erica’s photos from Chile 1973. There’s a woman who keeps popping up in them – Betty Davisson. I think she’s the same woman as the Betty Davisson I’m trying to find. I was hoping Aunt Erica would be able to help me.” Miss Society shakes her head firmly. 

“Absolutely not possible, I’m afraid.”

Looking Backwards Man has been listening intently. “Betty Davisson. Mmmmm… that’s the name the tramp outside the Hog and Rose mentioned… the name he connected to the Violeta Verde lookalike”. The Tourist turns to him eagerly. 

“You saw Betty Davisson?! Do you know who she is?!” Looking Backwards Man steps back, saying “Well, no….I thought I saw someone I knew from Santiago ’73, called Violeta Verde, but she seemed to be more of an apparition than a real person. A hobo in the street said she was Betty Davisson … can’t really say who she was. She disappeared before I could get to speak to her.” The Tourist’s eyes are shining with excitement. 

“You were in Santiago in ’73? You knew someone who looked like this Betty Davisson woman? Emily has many photos from those days that include a mysterious Betty Davisson character. Do you think they could be the same person?” Looking Backwards Man looks doubtful. 

“Violeta was a famous Nueva Cancion singer of the time. She was one of the ‘Desaparecidos’. Nobody knows what actually happened to her. I seriously doubt she survived Pinochet’s henchmen. There’s no way she could be swanning around Cape Town in this day and age.”

The Tourist looks deeply disappointed. “How will I find out who she is? The only person I know who has spoken to her is The Hotel Owner. I’ll have to go back and question her to see what I can find out. This weirdness is driving me crazy!”

Looking Backwards Man looks nonplussed. “Why would you be so obsessed with her?”

“Well for one thing, she left me with a massive hangover, and an even bigger gin bill, and I can’t remember the slightest thing about her. I’d at least like to know who she is, the vixen!”

Looking Backwards Man is amused. 

“Well good luck with that!” Miss Society interjects. “This all just too weird. They can’t be the same person. Violeta died fifty years ago. Even if she was still alive, she’d be close to eighty, and pretty decrepit, not hanging out in bars, disappearing before people can speak to her! I’ve had enough of all of this. I’ve got a gig tonight and need to go. Both of you, please just leave Aunt Erica alone. You’ve caused enough chaos already! Cheers!” Miss Society turns on her heel, and strides off towards Main Road, where she jumps into a minibus taxi heading towards town.

Looking Backwards Man and the Tourist are left looking sheepishly at each other. “Well, as it happens, I’ve got a gig tonight too. I’m playing some of my songs from Santiago ’73 at the Waterfront Hog and Rose this evening. Come along if you’d like to.” says Looking Backwards Man. “Thanks – I may well do that”. They follow in Miss Society’s footsteps and get into another taxi heading to town.