Page 70 of The Stolen Child

‘Come here,’ Elsie said, again taking her into her arms.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Sally cried as she lay her head on her friend’s shoulder.

‘Me either. It’s a shocker. But how could you know this, in fairness? Will I tell the Old Bill to do one?’

Sally nodded, grateful for the suggestion. She’d had enough questions. She stayed in the bathroom until she heard the bang of the front door closing. A few minutes later, she returned to the sitting room, joining Nicola and Elsie.

‘I made fresh tea,’ Nicola said. ‘But we might need something stronger.’

Sally had never been more grateful for these women; her sisterhood was always here to support her.

‘Sit down here,’ Elsie said, patting the seat beside her while Nicola searched the kitchen cabinet until she found a small bottle of gin. She poured three shots of it into tumblers, then added a splash of lemonade from the fridge. The women sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks. Sally could feel their eyes upon her, each trying to work out what to say. There was nothing to be said.

‘I never knew,’ Sally said again.

‘How could you?’ Nicola asked, shaking her head. ‘The poor woman. What a life.’

Sally couldn’t bear to think about what her mother may have suffered over the years. What decisions she’d made in her life that had brought her to this final crossroads. It made her head pound and her stomach flip and turn. Then a rush of fatigue passed over her. She stifled a yawn as her eyes stung and prickled.

‘You look done in,’ Nicola said. ‘It’s the shock of it all. No wonder. You should get to bed. Get a good night’s sleep.’

‘How can a day go from being the best one of your life to the worst?’ Sally asked. ‘One minute we’re hanging my hairdressing diploma up on the wall, celebrating your job offer and the next . . .’

‘Life isn’t fair, that’s for sure,’ Elsie said. Then she looked at Sally in surprise and asked, ‘What job offer?’

Nicola quickly explained their plans for the future. ‘We’ll celebrate another night.’

Sally smiled weakly.

Nicola downed the last drink and stood up, giving Sally one last embrace. ‘I’m going to go, let you get to bed. Sleep is the ticket. I’ll call over tomorrow to see how you are. You’ll get through this, love, and we’ll be right here beside you to help.’

‘I’ll make you a hot-water bottle before I go,’ Elsie said, moving into the kitchen to fill a kettle. ‘And I’ll call Mary to see if she can do your shifts next week. I know she needs the extra few bob; I think she’ll be glad. One less thing for you to worry about.’

‘Do you think she’ll want to go back full time?’ Sally asked. ‘I need to give my notice to the gaffer.’

‘I’ll talk to the gaffer tomorrow night before our shift starts. Let him know about your mother. With a bit of luck, you might not even have to worry about working your notice.’

Sally felt her stomach flip. ‘Please don’t tell anyone about what my mo—’

Elsie shook her head quickly. ‘That’s your mother’s business. I won’t be saying it to anyone.’ Then she stepped in closer and lowered her voice to say, ‘When your back’s to the wall, you don’t have a choice.’

Sally looked up at her in surprise.

‘Get into bed. I’ll be in shortly with your bottle,’ Elsie said, gently pushing her towards the bedroom.

Sally peeled off her clothes and slipped into her pyjamas. While her body ached with tiredness, she wasn’t sure she could sleep – not without having nightmares, that is. Elsie joined her and slipped a bottle under the bedclothes. Then, taking a look at Sally’s pale face, she motioned her to move over and lay on the bed beside her – like they used to do back in the orphanage.

Sally was surprised when she felt Elsie’s body shaking beside her. She hadn’t expected her to be as upset about her mother.

‘Are you okay?’ Sally asked gently.

‘I’m going to tell you something I swore I’d never tell a soul,’ Elsie whispered. ‘And you can’t ask me about it again. Promise me.’

Sally promised, turning her body, so that she faced her friend.

‘Before I started work with Cyril, I’d been out of work for a few months. And, as I told you, I ran out of money pretty fast.’ She sighed, deep and long, and her eyes darkened as she spoke. ‘It got to the point that I’d not eaten properly in a week. Anything I could sell was gone. I was desperate.’

Elsie’s breath quickened and she closed her eyes for a moment. ‘I knew that I had to do something drastic, or I’d starve.’ Elsie breathed in. ‘I’d seen the women on Wandsworth Common. Standing in a row, waiting for a car to pull over.’