Episone 9 - Teddy's secret

At about the same time as Dorothy was negotiating with the girl at the Social Services office, Cleo was sitting in her office reading her emails. Dorothy phoned through on her mobile to confirm that there was indeed a baby hatch in Upper Grumpsfield. She was waiting for the next bus and would come straight to the office.

A few minutes later Gary phoned and Cleo was able to pass Dorothy’s message on.

“That wasn’t the reason for my calling you so early, Cleo.”

“So what was?”

“The woman we found in the Bell Tower is not related to the little girl. She’s definitely not her mother,” said Gary.

“The child might be adopted.”

“We’ll have to talk to Anna again. Maybe she’ll be more forthcoming now she’s at the vicarage.”

“She won’t know that she’s adopted, Gary,” said Cleo. “She’ll be at school today. The twins are taking her to their primary school. It’s important that she gets her education and it will settle her in Upper Grumpsfield.

“In case she’s adopted there, Cleo?”

“Well…”

“You aren’t even married and the child will have been registered missing somewhere. Don’t fix your mind on the idea of adoption, since we will have to find the child’s real mother.”

“I was thinking more of foster-parenting.”

“Only people in apparently harmonious marriages can be foster parents. We’re checking missing persons. But if the child was officially in the care of the dead woman and they were on the road, Anna probably won’t have been reported missing, Cleo.”

“Can you check again? Maybe the child was due to be returned to the family and didn’t show up. Then she might have been reported missing very recently.”

“That’s a far-fetched. Why don’t you get onto that, Cleo? It alarms other authorities if it’s the police making such enquiries.”

“Typical. They are always afraid the quality of their work will be challenged, Gary. They see the police as the last instance.”

“But you’ll make inquiries for us?”

“Don’t forget that I’m getting married next Thursday.”

“How could I forget?”

“Then the first hurdle on the road to fostering has been taken, right?”

“Wrong. The first hurdle is, as I said, to find out if the girl has relatives who are missing her. You can’t take a child home without knowing all that. There are enough abandoned children in orphanages either because something legal in their biographies hasn’t been dealt with, or because everyone is clamouring for a new-born baby to adopt,” said Gary.

“So Anna’s chances of finding a proper home are not good even if she is declared an orphan, are they?”

“As a blissfully happily married woman you could apply to be a foster mother for her, Cleo.,” said Gary with undeniable bitterness. “It’s all speculation right now.”

“You’re right if you weren’t talking about my marriage, which is hardly likely to be blissful, though it will be legal. But first we must solve the mystery of the woman’s presence in the tower.”

“Her death was probably not accidental. The lab report shows a toxic substance in her blood – and a good deal of alcohol.”

“You did not mention that when you said she was not Anna’s mother.”

“Because it was drugs and alcohol, not conventional poison, but a lethal cocktail she might have administered herself.”

“A prescription drug, in other words.”

“Yes. She might have taken it in pill or liquid form, but she drank the alcohol. According to the alcohol test she was far from sober.”

“So someone might have slipped something into her glass. The case is starting to sound unsolvable.”

“One of tens of thousands of unsolved mysteries in the archives,” said Gary. “It would probably help to know where she drank all that alcohol.”

“I’ll talk to Anna later today. She might be able to tell us something. For instance, where did they go before they walked to the Bell Tower?”

“Good. If they went to an eating place, we might be able to find out something from there.”

“The only place in Upper Grumpsfield is Delilah’s bistro. I should ask Delilah then, but I’ll talk to Anna first,” said Cleo.

“Good idea. Talk later. I’ll come to the office now, shall I?”

“OK,” said Cleo. “Do you know Mrs Frazer, head of the big comprehensive?”

“That’s where I went to school, only it was a grammar school in those days.”

“So she’s been there a long time.”

“She was deputy headmistress in my time, only about ten years older than the upper sixth. Very ambitious, dedicated to her job, only taking time off to have her own children,” said Gary. “She was promoted to head when the old guy retired.”

“So she’s the right person to ask about what teenage girls do with their unwanted babies.”

“Ah. I see where you’re going, now. Good idea. Don’t talk about me to her. If she makes a direct connection from you to the police it might make her more cautious.”

“Do you mean she could be condoning the existence of baby hatches?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“OK. Message understood. I’ll phone you when Dorothy leaves. She was sleuthing early this morning.”

“I hope she didn’t do any damage.”

***

Dorothy arrived a short time later from her sleuthing trip to HQ. She can’t have been recognized. Gary was sure to have said something.

“It’s serious, Cleo,” she reported. “The girl at reception warned me off baby hatches. I explained that I wanted to save my granddaughter’s child from such a fate, not condemn it.”

“I’m sure you got it right, Dorothy.”

“I hope so. They had a security camera and I could kick myself for not noticing it straight away. I hope they did not get a full view of my face.”

“Were you wearing that hat thing? The rest of your apparel is also pretty awesome, Dorothy.”

Dorothy snatched the offending article from her head and stuffed it into her handbag.

“Yes. All too hot for a summer’s day, of course, but the girl probably thinks I’m a crackpot for even going there for advice.”

“And since you did not point a gun at her, it’s unlikely that the photos taken by the camera will merit more than a passing glance.”

“I didn’t take a gun. There might have been a metal detector at the door,” said Dorothy.

“Or they might have searched you before you got into the building,” said Cleo.

“They didn’t. The receptionist was a bit worried about the camera because she had told me where there is a baby hatch, so we concocted a story about me wanting information about charity work in case the girl was questioned about the video.”

“You didn’t even give her your name, did you?”

“Heavens, no. She didn’t ask for it, but someone might recognize me. She was a pretty inept person to be in charge of people getting into those offices.”

“I’d better tell Gary, just in case.”

“Would you? Doesn’t he know about my expedition?”

“Not in so many words.”

“When are you seeing him, Cleo?”

“He promised to drop by. I should think he’ll be here soon, but he can share our coffee.”

“Are you going to…?”

“I should think so, Dorothy. Does it bother you?”

“Not if it makes you happy, Cleo.”

They paused while Dorothy filled the coffee pot and frothed up some milk for their second round of coffee.

While she was doing that, Cleo texted Gary to come. Dorothy knew all about why he was coming.

Gary replied that he was on his way, but what did Dorothy know all about?

***

“You have is such a good espresso machine, Cleo.”

“Yes, it does evening, even frothy milk.”

“I should have one.”

“Would you like one as a fee for this morning’s work, Dorothy?”

“What a good idea!”

Dorothy consulted her watch.

“I can’t wait for Gary. I must get some sausages from the shop if Robert has some left.

Tuesday was fresh sausage day, but Robert usually sold out immediately and had to make more. He could not let his best-seller run out and it seldom did.

“Good idea. Don’t tell Gloria anything about what you’ve been doing, Dorothy.”

“Of course not. I’ll get her to tell me something!”

“And please don’t tell Robert that Gary is coming. He would only make a fuss.”

“And disturb a love-nest,” said Dorothy.

“That, too.”

“You’re getting married next week, Cleo.”

“That’s business. I love Gary.”

“Don’t you love Robert at all?”

“I’m quite fond of him, but Gary makes me happy.”

“Then he’s right for you, Cleo.”

“I know that now.”

“Call off that farcical wedding, Cleo.”

“I can’t. Robert needs respectability in his job. A butcher needs a wife.”

“He’s managed for nearly thirty years without one.”

“But he isn’t managing now. He’s nervous and upset and I know it’s because of Gary.”

“Then call Gary off.”

“I’m trying.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t try hard enough.”

Dorothy got the hint.

“OK. I’ll leave now and let you know what Gloria has to report.”

Dorothy realized that Cleo’s intransigence would resolve itself one day. She was a little ashamed that she had even mentioned her relationship with Gary. She embraced Cleo briefly, wished her the happiness she would have liked herself, and sped off to the shop.

Cleo was uneasy. Dorothy’s comments about her personal life were far too near the truth. They were meant well, of course, but discomforting.

“We don’t have long,” said Cleo, when Gary finally arrived. “Dorothy was here. She wished us luck.”

“Do we need luck?”

“In her eyes we do. She’s envious of our affair, Gary. She remained loyal to her boyfriend long after he had deserted her.”

“More fool her,” said Gary. “Is the office door locked?”

“Sure.”

“You are taking an early lunch break, Cleo, and so am I. Let’s call it a siesta.”

The lovers went into the utility room.

“This has to be the last time, Gary,” said Cleo.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I can’t change my mind now,” said Cleo.

“I know you won’t. I’m not asking you to. I just want us to go on meeting.”

“So do I,” said Cleo.

“And to be honest, this linoleum is a bit hard, even with a blanket on it.”

***

As arranged, Mrs Frazer came exactly on time for her appointment at the office. She parked her car nearby and rang the bell.

The door was still locked. Cleo sometimes forgot to put the catch down, but when Gary left she needed to remove any evidence of the utility room also being a love nest when the need arose. Then she sat at her laptop and stared into space until Mrs Frazer arrived.

“Security,” Cleo explained as she let Mrs Frazer in.

“Yes. You wouldn’t want just anyone marching in, would you? There are strange people around these days, I’m afraid.”

“On the day I was meant to start work here I found a corpse on the carpet. This one is new. I took red, this time. The congealed blood looked really weird on blue.”

“Good heavens! You do live dangerously. I hope you are not expecting a fresh corpse.”

“No way. The corpse came in through a window in the utility room next to this one. There are still unanswered questions concerning that case. Two of the individuals involved were released from prison this morning.”

“I thought murderers served life sentences, Miss Hartley.”

“The two released had not been imprisoned for murder, but they had helped to get the body into the office. They went to jail for drug-trafficking. A third person committed suicide in his cell and a fourth eventually confessed to the actual killing.”

“You keep very interesting company, Miss Hartley.”

“Don’t I just! Will you have some coffee?”

“I’d love some. Black, please.”

Presently, seated at her desk with her mug of latté in front of her, Cleo asked Mrs Frazer what she thought was the reason for her visit.

“When you said teenage girls on the phone I immediately thought of one or two cases you might be investigating.”

“Such as?”

“Lover-boys. We’ve had problems with some of the girls. The young men hang around the school and induce vulnerable girls to go with them.”

“I thought that was more of a problem on the continent,” said Cleo. “I haven’t had such a case to deal with here.”

“I wish it were only continental. Young girls are flattered when young men date them. It can be harmless, but it seldom is. In the case of lover-boys, the girls become so emotionally dependent that they prostitute themselves to help their ‘lover-boy’ pay his debts or he persuades them to deal in drugs. I suspect that some of those glamorous foreign holidays are in aid of drug-trading.”

“It sounds as if the lover-boys have no problem in finding willing victims.”

“The problem is that we can’t stop them hovering on the pavement outside school premises,” said Mrs Frazer.

“And the police are not interested unless there’s evidence,” said Cleo. “Am I right?”

“I’m afraid so. The girls are too scared to say anything.”

“I expect they are in a kind of bondage.”

“Yes. Trouble at home; too much discipline; no one to talk to; all sorts of reasons, including the feeling of being an attractive woman at the age of fifteen or sixteen. Glossy magazines are not entirely blameless. And those so-called lover-boys don’t necessary just have one girl ‘running’ for them. One way to get a girl out of their clutches is to get her to understand that, but the girls usually don’t want to betray these young men even when they know the truth.”

“I had a case of drug-trafficking here, but that was with dealers, not lover-boys,” Cleo said.

“That’s unfortunately also a feature of the drug scene at schools. I have a teacher on duty outside during every break. We can’t expect the police to guard our premises all the time. But a teacher cannot really prevent something happening outside school hours, and that’s when the lover-boys pick the girls up and dealers talk to boys who should be playing football, not selling drugs.”

“I pity the parents of those kids.”

“So do I, but that is not what you wanted to talk to me about, is it, Miss Hartley?”

“Now we’ve talked about lover-boys, I wonder if pregnancies are also a feature.”

“You’d be surprised how many girls manage to conceal pregnancies under weight problems, Miss Hartley.”

“No. That doesn’t surprise me at all. Do you know anything about baby hatches, Mrs Frazer?”

“They are illegal,” said Mrs Frazer.

“I think there’s one in Upper Grumpsfield and I don’t really know anyone else I can ask about it.”

“What do you need to know, Miss Hartley?”

“I already know that they are illegal in Britain.”

“Any head of a school attended by teenage girls will tell you that there are numerous hatches scattered around the country. At the latest when a girl is going through a secret pregnancy she will take steps to find out where the nearest one is.”

“Why don’t those girls tell their parents?”

“Shame; fear of disgrace and punishment; in some religious circles it means death.”

“So as I understand it, those girls disguise their condition and give birth secretly.”

“That’s right. They are often entirely alone. Then they wrap the infant in a blanket and put it into the baby hatch, and that’s the end of it for them. They can be sure that their secret is not going to be revealed. Normally the baby will be devoid of any identification.”

“Even the blanket?”

“Acquired from a charity shop for the purpose.”

“A perfect solution, in other words.”

“There’s no way of stopping it. If you close down those clandestine hatches, the girls will smother their babies and throw them away. Don’t forget, they are desperate and capable of anything.”

The two women sat silently opposite one another and sipped at their coffee.

“So the baby hatch in Upper Grumpsfield is actually fulfilling a social need, isn’t it?” said Cleo.

“That seems to be the case.”

“But it doesn’t stop there, does it Mrs Frazer?”

“No.”

“Do you feel you can tell me some more?”

“I suspect that babies are being sold from those hatches,” said Mrs Frazer. “Even if the institution is linked with a church or a hospital, there’s no end to what people will do to make money.”

“Do you have any proof?”

“No. The young mothers have given their babies away anonymously. They have no claim on them. In fact, they usually want nothing more to do with what they see as a shameful episode.”

“So the people involved in running a baby hatch are safe from exposure, aren’t they?” said Cleo.

“You’d have to prove otherwise, Miss Hartley. Can you see that happening?”

“With your help, I’m going to try.”

“I can’t help you. What would those girls do if they had nowhere to put those unwanted babies?”

Mrs Frazer got up to go. She was angry and upset.

“I need to think of the welfare and safety of those girls, Miss Hartley. I can’t do that and at the same time betray their trust.”

“I agree, but trading in babies is terrible too, and the people living off the proceeds are criminals.”

Cleo opened the door for Mrs Frazer to leave.

“Have you consulted the police, Miss Hartley?”

“Not yet.”

“Gary Hurley is trustworthy, and so are we. Maybe we can sort something out together.”

“I’ll get your steaks, Mrs Frazer.”

“Oh dear. I nearly forgot them.”

“You have a big family,” said Cleo.

“Two grown-up sons with wives, Miss Hartley. That makes six round the table quite often. Thanks for getting the steaks for me.”

“My pleasure, Mrs Frazer.”

The headmistress got into her car and drove off, leaving Cleo in a deep quandary. Had Mrs Frazer told her everything? At least she had her blessing as far as involving Gary was concerned.

Cleo decided to visit Delilah at her bistro before going home. Beforehand she would ring Gary and tell him about her talk with Mrs Frazer. Gary had her blessing to investigate. In fact, he had been recommended. Cleo had not told her that they were already investigating some of the perpetrators of the suspected baby-trading ring. Mrs Frazer refused to cooperate so as not to alienate the girls.

***

Cleo wanted to ask Delilah about Anna and the woman accompanying her. Delilah had a memory like an elephant and maintained that it was part of a barmaid’s job to take a good look at customers. Another good reason for consulting Delilah was that it was the only pub within walking distance of the Bell Tower.

***

So when did the two strangers pass through the village? When she was found, the woman had been dead for several hours, and even if she was knew, Anna would not be able to say when the woman had died because she was shut out of the Bell Tower after the heavy carved door had closed while she was outside. Had the woman sent her to get help? Had Anna waited in the hope that someone would pass by and open the heavy door? Had the child been holding a vigil until help materialized? The woman she called Mama had presumably been too weak to open the Bell Tower door from the inside and had staggered back to the dark corner where she had been found.

Had something frightened Anna so much that she had hidden and only ventured as far as the vicarage kitchen door when she decided that the danger – whatever it was – had passed. The only plus point was that since it was summer, it was warm enough to sit outside. In winter, the child would have died of exposure.

***

“How’s it going, Cleo. Ready for the big day?” said Mitch, Delilah’s partner, hugging Cleo. He was thin and bony, but his embrace was close and not exactly pristine.

„Watch out for Mitch, Cleo. He really enjoys women,” said Delilah laughing.

A glint in her eye told Cleo that she was being warned off.

“That’s true. I wanted to see what Robert is getting,” said Mitch shamelessly.

“He won’t notice,” said Cleo.

“But someone else will,” said Delilah, who did not approve of two-timing. “I couldn’t have stood up such a gorgeous hunk of a man.”

“I’m not planning to,“ said Cleo.

Delilah was a teeny-weeny bit disappointed that Dorothy Price was to be Cleo’s witness at the nuptials if Cleo had to marry that butcher for reasons best known to herself, though she had to admit that Dorothy had earned the honour by doing some heroic sleuthing for the Hartley Agency.

“Are you still mad at me, Delilah?”

“Why should I be?”

“The witness thing?”

“Let Dorothy have her five minutes of fame. I’ll have mine entertaining you all.”

“The wedding is bad timing,” Cleo said. “I should be investigating, not celebrating!”

“Bad timing is the understatement of the century,” said Mitch.

“Do you know why?” said Delilah.

“All that investigating, I suppose.”

It was clear that Mitch did not know about Cleo’s two-timing. But if Cleo thought the topic was closed, she was mistaken.

“What are you going to do about that dishy Inspector, Cleo? I thought you were in love with him,” said Delilah.

“With that cop?” said Mitch.

“I am,” said Cleo.

 “Why don’t you marry him then?” said Mitch,, who was starting to understand Cleo’s dilemma.

“He’s not free.”

“Then wait for him.”

“I promised Robert.”

“Promises, promises. What a mess!”

Mitch went into the kitchen chunnering. He was back before Cleo could tell Delilah not to mention Gary again.

“Here’s your coffee, Darlings,” said Mitch as he served espressos. “What about that woman in the swimming pool, Cleo?”

“So you’ve heard about that, too! News travels fast round here.”

“It’s in the late editions, Cleo, but we already knew,” said Mitch.

“The Singletons have very nosy neighbours,” said Delilah. “Mrs Bone couldn’t wait to spread the news around.”

“Hilda Bone? Singletons’ next door neighbour?”

“You’d better talk to her. She’s a mine of information,” said Mitch. I think she must sleep in everyone’s bed – innocently, of course.”

“I’m going to talk to her,” said Cleo.

“That drowning was a nasty business,” said Delilah after a pause.

“Especially as the social worker was probably put in the water after being attacked,” said Cleo.

“Mrs Bone didn’t tell me the details.”

“She doesn’t know everything. Gary thinks the drowning was to cover up the attack. I’m surprised Mrs Bone didn’t draw that conclusion,” said Cleo.

Delilah shuddered. She was glad Mitch was keen on security measures.

“We have to find out who the killer was and why the corpse was floating in the Singleton swimming-pool,” said Cleo.

“Rather you than me, Cleo.”

“But I didn’t come about that murder, Delilah.”

“You didn’t?”

“Think back to a week ago. Do you remember a woman coming into the bistro with a child?”

“We don’t get many kids here in the evening. Was it a little girl? About 6 or 7 years old? Darkish complexion, fair hair. I wondered about that.”

“You do remember, Delilah. That’s brilliant.”

“I remember wondering why the woman was dragging a child around so late in the day. But Romanies do that sort of thing. They live different hours from normal human beings. Continental. Maybe Arabian.”

“So what time would that be?”

“It must have been about seven. We’d served the first round of pasta and pizzas to people wanting high tea before going to the evening movies in Middlethumpton.”

“Were the woman and child alone?”

“Do you know, I wanted to phone you about that. I don’t like weird characters in my bistro. A man came in and sat behind the woman. He seemed to be watching her and the child. Mitch didn’t take his eyes off him. Soon after the woman left with the child, the man left, and Mitch would have liked to follow them at a safe distance, but I wouldn’t let him. There was something else strange about the situation.”

Delilah hesitated.

“Go on!”

“In the pub that stranger did not make contact with the woman at first, but later he went to the bar and bought her a drink. He insisted on serving her with it.”

“And you let him?”

“Yes.”

“What was the woman’s reaction?”

“Startled.”

“As if she hadn’t known he was there?”

“Yes. She had been busy with the child.”

“Anything else?”

“I was watching what would happen. Curiosity, I suppose. The man and woman may have had a relationship the child was not to know about. It does happen, Cleo. I’m running a pub not the Salvation Army!”

“Let’s just get the timing right. The guy came in after the woman.”

“Yes.”

“Can you describe him?”

“Average height, foreign-looking. Not very dark skin. Iranian, possibly. Spoke perfect English.”

“In other words, no distinguishing features.”

“Come to think of it there was one. His fingers were long with manicured finger-nails. Almost effeminate. I notice that when he picked up the drink he’d bought. He also kept his head down as if he didn’t want me to see his face too closely.”

“Age?”

“Early forties, I should think. Well dressed. Paid with a big banknote from a roll.”

“Wow. I would have been very curious about that.”

“I can’t ask people what they are doing in my pub if they are behaving themselves. That guy was quiet, clean and polite.”

“Would you recognize the woman and child from photos?”

“I should think so. And Mitch may have photographed the man. I’ll ask him.”

“I’ll get my tablet out and show you the photos.”

“We should discuss the luncheon menu for next Thursday, Cleo.”

“Talk to Robert about that, Delilah. It’s all his idea and you’ll be ordering from him anyway. He’ll get anything you want from the wholesaler on Wednesday afternoon.”

“Good idea. Not much time left.”

Delilah confirmed that the photos Cleo showed her were indeed of that woman and the child.

“I’ve just received the photo of that Arabian guy.”

Mitch came bounding down the stairs back into the bistro.

“That’s awesome, Mitch. Thanks a bunch!”

“My pleasure,” said Mitch, flipping the top on his tablet cover.

“I can see what you mean by average,” said Cleo “He’s quite nice-looking and smartly dressed with no special distinguishing features..”

“I don’t suppose you mean me, do you Cleo? Where else do you want me to send the photo?” Mitch wanted to know.

“CIGH at HQmidthu.com.uk is the quickest way of getting attachments to Gary personally. He can get it on any of his digital contraptions.”

Mitch sent the photo off and Cleo phoned Gary on her mobile.

“What’s up, Cleo?”

“Are you at HQ?”

“At the grindstone.”

“I’m at Delilah’s place. You’re about to get a photo from Mitch showing a guy who was following the woman we found dead in the Bell Tower.”

“How did he bring that off?”

“Mitch photographs anything that stays still long enough.”

“I’ll get it compared with the mug collection here. I don’t suppose you have a clue to his identity?”

Cleo handed the mobile to Delilah.

“Hi Gary. Delilah here. Mitch just thought he looked suspicious. He’s very anxious about safety measures these days.”

“I’ll talk to Mitch, Cleo. Put him on, please.”

“Can you come in and tell me the whole story?” Gary said to mitch after the usual pleasantries.

“Delilah has already told Cleo.”

“Come anyway -both of you. I want to hear it at first hand.”

“Tomorrow morning OK?”

“Great. By then I might know who he is.”

“OK. We’ll drive in for about 9.”

“Great. See you both then.”

“He has a sexy voice, Cleo,” said Delilah. “Don’t let him go.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” said Cleo. “Next call now. Thanks again!”

***

Cleo’s last visit of the day was to the vicarage. After phoning Robert to tell him where she was going and why, Cleo left Delilah and Mitch to get the evening’s trade up and running and walked briskly to the vicarage, going straight round to the kitchen door because she thought the kids would be having supper.

Sure enough, there they all were, sitting round the kitchen table tucking in to fish fingers and chips with lashings of ketchup controlled by Edith and piles of bread and butter, washed down with lemonade.

“Want some, Cleo?” Edith asked.

“Well…”

“Go on. You won’t get your supper for ages.”

“That’s true. It all looks very tasty.”

The children paused just long enough to make room for her at the table. Albert relinquished the vicar’s proper chair so that Cleo did not have to sit on one of the stools reserved for the kids. Edith pushed another tray of frozen chips into the hot oven.

“I’d never have time to peel enough potatoes,” she explained.

Cleo never ceased to wonder at the modesty of British home cooking, though Edith’s version was probably additionally adjusted to kids’ dietary preferences.

“When we’ve finished, I must have a quick word with Anna,” Cleo told Edith.

“They’ll finish when everything has been eaten, Cleo, so tuck in.”

Robert would have been amazed to see Cleo feasting on fish fingers in Edith’s kitchen. Mr Parsnip wandered in, saw the pandemonium, and wandered out again, waving briefly at Cleo in the process.

“Doesn’t Frederick have supper with you?”

“No, Cleo. The noise gives him a headache. He has it on a tray in his study unless it’s a grownup party in the living room.”

As usual he left the stress to Edith. Anna was shouting and laughing with the boys and a totally changed child from the morose little waif Cleo had experienced only a few days previously. Though Edith had all the work, she was probably enjoying having the little girl there. Cleo could see some pink knitting sitting on the old kitchen dresser. When supper was finally over, the boys went off to watch TV and Cleo beckoned to Anna to sit on the stool next to her. Edith slipped out of the kitchen to collect the vicar’s tray. Would she exchange conversation with her husband? Unlikely, thought Cleo. Their days of communicating for the sake of it were over. Would looking after Anna be a bridge over troubled waters in that house? She did not think so. Edith would be the right woman for Robert, she mused.

“Did you like school this morning, Anna?”

The child nodded.

“I like being here,” she volunteered. “Edith is like my mummy used to be.”

“Is she?”

“I mean my other mummy.”

“Your other mummy?”

“The one I had before she sent me to Bunny.”

“Is Bunny the lady from the Bell Tower, Anna?”

Anna ignored the question. Instead, she took Cleo’s hands and asked “Is Bunny dead, too?”

Cleo realised that Anna meant the woman in the Bell Tower, but had been told that her real mummy was dead.

“Where is your real mummy, Anna?”

The child looked puzzled. Cleo wondered if Anna had been kidnapped.

“Bunny told me to call her Mama.”

Cleo decided not to pursue questioning about Anna’s earlier past. Since she was now only about 7 and probably remembered little about the time her real mother went out of her life, for whatever reason.

“But I know what my real mummy looks like,” the child said quietly. “I’ve got a picture of her. Teddy keeps it safe for me.”

Anna lowered her voice so that Cleo could hardly hear her.

“Bunny does not know about the picture. It’s hidden in Teddy.”

“Did your other mummy hide it there?” Cleo whispered back.

Anna nodded.

“Will you show it to me?”

The child’s eyes were sparkling when she nodded again.

“I’ll get him,” she whispered. “He’s keeping my bed warm.”

There was a short pause while Anna fetched her teddy-bear.

“Does anyone else know about Teddy’s secret, Anna?”

“No.”

Cleo switched her mobile phone onto camera.

“Can I take a photo of Teddy, Anna? Has he got a name?”

“Just Teddy,” she said.

“Will you show me the photo of your other mummy?”

Anna fished round inside the teddy-bear, and then held out a crumpled, much fingered photograph. Cleo photographed that, too, then turned it over and saw that the name Sybil and a street name had been written on it. After taking a photo of that, she handed the photo back to Anna.

“Keep it safe and don’t tell anyone else, Anna.”

Anna pushed the photo down into the teddy-bear’s soft cotton-wool inside.

“Take Teddy back to bed now, Anna. He looks tired.”

Anna smiled and nodded before skipping off holding her teddy-bear tightly. Edith came back into the kitchen after hearing Anna scrambling up the stairs for the second time.

“Did you find out anything more, Cleo?”

“Yes. I’m going home now to think about it. I don’t suppose Anna has told you anything significant, has she, Edith?”

“No. She asked me a lot of questions. Talked a bit about her teddy-bear.”

“Only about her teddy-bear?”

“Yes. I didn’t ask any questions. I just let her talk.”

“Very wise. Children only tell grown-ups what they think that they should hear.”

Back home, Cleo transferred the photos to her laptop. She decided to keep this new information to herself for a few hours. She needed more time to put the pieces together. Was the Sybil written on the back the Sybil on the photo? Cleo decided it must be Anna’s real mother, but with only a street name to go by, finding the address would be difficult if not impossible. In the morning she would ring Gary and ask him if anyone named Sybil had been reported missing anywhere.

Robert was snoozing on the sofa.

“So you did come home after all,” he said.

“I’m surprised you didn’t check on my whereabouts, Robert.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“You’ve done it before, Robert,” Cleo said. “I want you to know that you are not buying me. You are only marrying me. I need my autonomy.”

“Whatever that is, I’ll go along with it, Cleo. The main thing is that you turn up at the registry office.”

“We ordered a car together, Robert. We are going to the registry office together, but hopefully not handcuffed.”

“You should stop associating with gangsters and police, Cleo,” said Robert.

Maybe I should,” said Cleo, “but I won’t.”