I ask one of the librarians, a studious-looking young man who happens to be passing. He’s pushing a trolley with so many books on it they look like they could topple over at any second. He has a nametag fastened to the pocket of his checked shirt.Tom.He leaves his trolley by the counter and guides me over to one of the computers; it’s a little more dated than the others. I sit down and he leans over me to type in a password.
‘We only have the local newspapers here,’ he says, his eyes narrowing as he taps at the keys. He has the same thick accent as Nancy.
‘That’s fine. I’m only after local stuff. How far do they date back?’
He pulls a face, considering. ‘Hmm. To the early 1900s? How far back do you want to go?’
I have no real idea. Nancy said something about it happening at the beginning of the 1950s. ‘Maybe from 1950 onwards,’ I offer.
He shows me what to do, then leaves me to get on with it. It’s a laborious task, scrolling through newspaper after newspaper. Just as I’m wondering if it ever happened at all, or if Nancy was just listening to idle gossip, a headline jumps out at me.
WOMAN FOUND HANGED AFTER SHAMEFUL CONVICTION
The newspaper is dated Tuesday, 3 March 1953. My stomach gives a little flurry as I scan the article, suddenly apprehensive about what I’m going to find out.
A woman found hanged in her home was driven to despair after the shameful arrest and imprisonment of her husband, an inquest heard.
Violet Brown, 32, became isolated after her husband, Albert, 37, was arrested for Gross Indecency last year. His subsequent 22-month prison sentence meant that Mrs Brown found it increasingly difficult to run the boarding-house at 1, Church Lane, which she owned with her husband, eventually running into financial problems.
Mrs Brown was found by her older sister, Margot Burton, on the morning of 20 November 1952.
Giving evidence, Mrs Burton said that on the day in question she had ‘popped’ over to see her sister and, when there was no answer, she became concerned. ‘The door was open so I went inside to look for her. She hardly went out by this stage as she was getting more and more out of sorts, so I knew she would have to be in the house somewhere. It had been days since I last saw her, and Mary from the local shop said she hadn’t been in to pay her shopping bill for ages. I found her upstairs in the attic. It was obvious she had been dead for a while and there was nothing I could have done to save her. She was such a proud woman. We would have helped her if we’d known. I think the shame was too much for her.’
Coroner William Woodley recorded Mrs Brown’s death as suicide. He said: ‘Although she didn’t leave a note, it is most probable, due to her husband’s incarceration and subsequent money worries, that Violet Brown intended to take her own life.’
I stare at the screen, shocked and saddened to think that these events had taken place in our home, and of the similarity between Mrs Burton finding her sister and that terrible day when I’d found Adrian. Thankfully, I’d been able to save him.
‘What are you doing?’
Mum’s voice makes me jump and I whip around to face her. She’s standing with the three girls in front of her. Evie comes towards me, her little face alight, holding up a book about Claude the dog to show me, and I prod desperately at the keys, not wanting her to see the words on the screen.
I stand up quickly, my back to the computer, and usher them towards the desk.
‘We’ve got our books,’ Evie says happily. I notice even Amelia has a book in her hand. Something about a Geek Girl. I hang back as they go to the counter to check out their haul, Ruby holding on to Amelia for support.
‘What were you looking up on the computer?’ hisses Mum.
‘The history of our house. Nancy said something to me earlier and it piqued my interest.’ I recount what I’ve just read.
Mum glances at me and purses her lips. She has that disapproving look on her face again.
‘What?’
She folds her arms across her chest. ‘I don’t understand why you care about the history of the house. We’ve got enough on our plates after what’s happened to Selena, and you’re het up about something that happened to people over sixty years ago – people we never even met.’
I frown at her. ‘What are you trying to say? That I’m not sad Selena is dead? Of course I am. It’s terrible. It’s …’ I lower my voice so the girls can’t hear ‘… it’s fucking dreadful. Okay? And it terrifies me to think that she was murdered. That amurdererwas in our house. Withmychildren. How do you think that makes me feel? I’ve put my children at risk. My job is to protect them! And for you to insinuate that I don’t care just because – for twenty minutes – I was concentrating on something else …’
‘You don’t have to swear,’ she replies coldly.
‘And you don’t have to be so bloody critical all the time,’ I snap back.
We eyeball each other. Amelia notices when she comes back: she glances from me to Mum and sighs. ‘What’s wrong now?’
Thenowdoesn’t pass me by.
‘Nothing,’ I say hurriedly, trying to keep my voice light. ‘Let’s go and get a hot chocolate.’
Amelia and Evie link arms with Ruby as we walk to the car, Mum behind them, making sure Ruby doesn’t fall.
