Authors: Amanda Brooke
‘Is he working for Kathy yet?’
‘Yes, he was over at the salon all last week. You do know they’re using the treatment room as his office, don’t you?’
Maggie nodded. Before her holiday she had packed everything away so Kathy could make a start on transforming the room into temporary office space. ‘At least she hasn’t rented it out on a long-term lease which leaves my options open for the future, for a while longer at least.’
‘Should I ask if you’ve heard anything from Judith?’
‘James has arranged to meet his dad for a game of golf but that’s about as far as he’s prepared to go at the moment. Anyway, weren’t we talking about Mark? Has he sorted through all the paperwork Kathy took from her mum’s yet?’
Jenny was starting to suspect that Maggie’s persistent questioning had little to do with Mark’s welfare. ‘What are you after?’ she asked.
Maggie took a deep breath before explaining how she was about to embark on a hopeless and most likely thankless task. ‘I want to trace the history of Kathy’s house. I know Flo Jackson lived there until the late sixties and Kathy’s dad bought it about ten years later. If Mrs Jackson’s niece inherited her estate then there must be a paper trail that leads back to her.’
‘And why would you need to track down the niece?’
‘I want to find Elsa’s baby,’ Maggie said as if it was that simple.
‘I thought the baby was stillborn?’
‘That’s what her records say but both Ted and I think she survived.’
‘I don’t know what it was like in the fifties, Maggie, but I’m pretty sure it would be illegal for a doctor to falsify medical records.’
‘Illegal – but not implausible, Jen. It was the doctor’s wife, Flo’s niece, who was so desperate for the baby. Maybe he was too.’
‘He’d have to be to risk doing that.’
The car was slowing down now and there was a sharp right turn. Wheels left tarmac and began to crunch gravel.
‘Can you tell Mark to expect a visit from me?’
Jenny pulled the car into a parking space and switched off the engine. ‘I’ll tell him – but even if you’re right, it’s not going to be easy uncovering an illegal adoption. And why go to all that trouble anyway? Elsie may never be in a fit state to understand what you’re trying to do.’
‘I know, Jen, but please don’t start talking me out of it. I have to at least try.’
‘Then I’ll help as much as I can.’ Jenny reached over and squeezed Maggie’s hand. ‘Now, let me describe what I can see.’
Sunny Days lived up to its name and the bright lemon sun in a cloudless blue sky shone brightly across the imposing Victorian house, which had been extended over the years. The glimmering whitewashed walls flickered occasionally with the shadows of tall beeches and sycamores that were scattered throughout the large, rambling gardens and bordered lush, green lawns. A long, curved drive led towards the entrance and was punctuated by an ornate water fountain that sprinkled rainbows into the cooling September air.
‘Does it look well maintained?’ Maggie asked. She sniffed the air and detected a hint of sweet, freshly cut grass.
‘A few rust spots here and there but nothing to suggest disrepair.’ Jenny sounded cautious in her verdict, which made Maggie relax a little. Neither of them would rush their opinion.
As they crossed the drive and neared the entrance, the soft tinkling of water from the fountain was the perfect accompaniment to the languorous birdsong that rolled in waves from the shade of the whispering trees. Again, Maggie sniffed. The water was just a little stagnant.
The deep gravel path made their progress difficult and Maggie held on tightly to Jenny’s arm. She was glad she had decided against bringing Harvey who would have struggled too.
‘I can’t imagine this stuff is great for the residents to walk on,’ Jenny said.
‘Maybe it’s so they can’t escape …’
With perfect but unnerving timing, they heard an almighty scream from somewhere deep within the house. It was too distant to distinguish whether it was a man or a woman but the mournful cry set every one of Maggie’s nerves on edge. They rang the bell and by the time the door was answered, the screams had been stifled.
‘Hi, I phoned earlier. My name’s Maggie Carter and we’re here to see Elsie Milton,’ Maggie said.
‘Yes, of course. I’m Carol, the manager,’ the woman said before inviting them into a small vestibule. ‘Would you mind signing in for me?’
While Jenny completed the visitors’ book, Maggie tried to process as much information as she could about the home. She’d had some preconceptions but the smell wasn’t nearly as bad as she had expected, although not exactly pleasant either. Industrial strength air fresheners burned the back of her sinuses but it was impossible to tell if they were disguising bad odours or were an overenthusiastic attempt to make a strong first impression.
‘So you didn’t bring your dog, then?’ Carol asked. Maggie had forewarned the home that she would be bringing her guide dog but then had second thoughts that morning. Carol sounded disappointed.
‘He’s had a busy couple of weeks so I thought he needed to catch up on some me time,’ Maggie explained.
‘That’s a shame.’
Maggie tilted her head as she concentrated on the woman’s voice. ‘Is something wrong?’
Carol pursed her lips before she spoke. ‘I’m afraid Mrs Milton isn’t too well. It’s nothing to be concerned about, but she’s a little agitated this morning. It happens now and again, and of course it can take a while for our residents to settle into their new surroundings. She’s insisting on going into the garden so Rachel’s upstairs trying to get her ready. Maybe you could go into the visitors’ room and wait or perhaps you could come back later when she’s a little calmer.’
‘No, take me up to her; I might be able to help,’ Maggie said, immediately regretting leaving Harvey at home.
Before Carol could reply there was another scream, much clearer this time. The voice belonged to Elsie but the tone belonged to a young woman whose life was being ripped in two.
Maggie took hold of Jenny’s arm. ‘Take me to her now,’ she said, more forcefully this time.
‘I’m sorry but I don’t think that would be possible … health and safety …’ Carol began.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t argue with her,’ Jenny warned, although her tone remained disarmingly light. ‘Once she’s set her mind on something you can’t stop her.’
The howling grew louder as they hurried upstairs. Maggie was so intent on reaching Mrs Milton that she didn’t even register the pain when her ankle knocked against the chair lift at the top of the stairs.
Rachel was doing her best to stop the old lady from running out of the room half-dressed when they arrived. ‘We’re nearly there, Elsie,’ she panted. ‘Now please let go of the pillow so I can put your dress on.’
Even though the room was probably a fair size, it felt claustrophobic as everyone squeezed in. Elsie’s terror was palpable and wouldn’t be helped by a room full of strangers. ‘Maybe I could try?’ Maggie asked with restrained diplomacy. ‘Do you think you could all give her some space?’
Rachel didn’t argue and slipped past Maggie. Rather than the towering bully of Maggie’s worst imaginings, she was probably only a little taller than her. ‘She thinks someone has stolen her baby,’ she whispered as she passed. ‘I’ve never seen anyone so devastated – it’s heartbreaking.’
From the concern etched in Rachel’s voice, Maggie took some solace that Elsie was well cared for but there was no time to relax. Elsa had retreated to the furthest corner of the room, sobbing.
‘We could always give her a sedative if you could persuade her to take it,’ Carol suggested.
‘Let me speak to her first.’
Maggie took a moment to get a better sense of where she was. There was an open window, which brought fresh air and sunlight into the room and flickering warmth across her face. The faint smell of cut grass added some colour to the sterile scent of disinfectant, but it couldn’t sweep away the pungent aroma of sweat created by collective exertion.
Maggie stepped carefully across unchartered territory towards Elsa’s sobs. Despite her best endeavours, she received another bump worthy of a bruise, this time to her shin. She felt her way past the bed on one side and a wardrobe on the other, continuing until she reached the wall opposite the door. Eventually her fingers touched a curtain that billowed in the gentle breeze. The birdsong from outside was only just audible over the wracked sobs.
From the projection of the sobbing Maggie gauged that the old lady was sitting on the floor and put a hand on the dressing table to balance herself as she bent down. Her pregnancy made the position cumbersome but she would stay there as long as necessary. With her other hand she reached out and made contact with a trembling knee. Elsa flinched.
‘Elsa, it’s Maggie. Tell me what’s wrong.’
‘I want my baby!’ she mewled. ‘They’ve taken her but I want her back. Oh God, how I want her back!’
Elsa’s tears didn’t abate and now Maggie was threatening to join her.
‘I know you do, Elsa. You’re a good mum and you would have looked after her.’
‘Then help me! Please! I can’t go on like this.’
‘I swear I’ll do everything I can to find her for you,’ Maggie said with such conviction it frightened her.
There was a mumbled response, wet sniffs and hiccups which at least gave Maggie hope that Elsa was trying to stifle her tears.
‘I have to get to the park,’ Elsa explained. ‘I have to meet Aunt Flo or I’ll never see Tess again.’
‘There’s a little rose garden outside,’ whispered Carol who had remained on the threshold. ‘She likes to sit on the bench out there sometimes, so that’s where we were going to take her.’
There was a soft mewl as the tears began to build once again. ‘I need to go to the park!’
‘Then let’s get you dressed,’ Maggie said, choosing a tone that was firm rather than cajoling.
There was a pause and Maggie felt herself being scrutinised.
‘You have a dog. You’re Molly, aren’t you?’
‘Maggie. We’ve sat together in Victoria Park a few times but I’m afraid I haven’t brought Harvey with me today.’
‘You know how to get to the park? Will you take me there?’
With a little awkward manoeuvring, Maggie helped Elsa to her feet, a task made doubly hard because Elsa was still holding on to the offending pillow. ‘Can I take that for you?’
Elsa grasped the pillow tighter still. She lifted it to her face and breathed in deeply but then released a painful sob. ‘I know it’s not her,’ she said, needing to explain herself. ‘But I can’t even smell her any more. She had a damp, baby smell but there was a hint of lilac too, from the water Mrs Jackson bathed her with. It’s not there. I’ve lost everything.’
Two thoughts occurred to Maggie in quick succession. The first was the connection that could now be made between Elsie’s choice of fragrance and her long-lost daughter, but it was the second thought that caused alarm. Elsie wasn’t wearing her perfume. She didn’t have the one thing that had helped ease her pain for over half a century.
‘I can remember holding her, all wet and wrinkly. It was like being in the eye of a storm. The labour pains had vanished and she was still mine. There was just that one moment, only a few precious minutes, but I won’t forget it and I won’t forget that smell either. I let go of Tess, but I’ll never let go of the memory.’
Maggie didn’t try to take the pillow again but Elsa offered it up anyway. ‘It’s not her,’ she repeated.
With a little help from Jenny, Maggie began to dress Mrs Milton who huffed and puffed as she obediently sat down on the bed to allow Jenny to put on her shoes. The final touch was a spray of lilac scent and then Elsie fell into an unnerving silence.
‘You must always remember the perfume,’ Maggie told Carol. ‘Make sure all the staff know that.’
‘Are we still taking her outside?’ Jenny asked.
There was a gasp of shock. ‘The park, I have to get to the park.’
This time there was no need for restraint and it was Jenny who helped Mrs Milton out of the room and towards fresh air with Maggie and Carol following close behind.
The rose garden was alive with colour; a mixture of light and shade that blended warm air with cool and delicate perfumes with earthy mulch. It was a distinct improvement on air fresheners and helped Maggie remain calm as she sat down next to Mrs Milton on the small bench. Placing her hands on the warm wood, her fingers resisted the flattened surface, yearning for the curve of wooden slats painted with layers of the past.
Elsie noticed the absence of a connection too. ‘We’re in the wrong place,’ she said. She sounded worn out and her voice had a painful rasp, her throat still raw from grief.
‘It’s not Victoria Park,’ Maggie agreed.
‘And that lawn isn’t a lake.’
‘Are you OK, Elsie?’
Elsie laughed softly. ‘No. I’m in the wrong place. Why do I keep saying that?’
‘You’ve been staying in a care home.’
Elsie took one of Maggie’s hands, which had been searching in vain for the familiarity of wooded knots and chipped paint. ‘I know – and it’s the right place for me to be. What I meant was, why do I feel like I should be somewhere else? I wanted to get to the park, didn’t I?’
‘You said you had to meet Flo there or you’d never see Tess again.’
Keeping hold of Maggie’s hand, Elsie sat back on a bench that squarely resisted the curve of her spine. ‘Yes, of course,’ she said and then turned her mind to the memories she had so recently been reliving. ‘I gave up my daughter within minutes of her birth and in the days that followed I became completely numb. It was the only way to survive the pain but I think it frightened Aunt Flo. On the day I left I didn’t even say goodbye to her; I simply packed my bags and walked out the door. I stopped off at the park one last time and that was where Aunt Flo tracked me down. After trying so hard to convince me that a clean break was for the best, she was the one who begged me to come back to visit her. She finally swayed me by promising to bring Tess to me behind Anne’s back so I could say goodbye properly.’
‘The baby wasn’t stillborn, was she?’ Maggie still needed that all-important confirmation.
‘No.’
For a moment Maggie was without words. The skeleton of Elsa’s story had been given flesh and bone and her picture of Elsa’s time in Sedgefield was almost complete. ‘And did you get to see her again?’ she asked when she could.