There was almost a bitter glee in Eileen’s voice now.
“What happened to her?”
“She took to prostitution. Took money from strangers who...”
“How do you know this?”
“Because she told us. When she came home with a bastard child in her belly.”
Helen breathed out, the full tragedy of Ella’s life slowly taking shape in front of her.
“Whose was it?”
“She didn’t know,” Eileen replied, but now the glee had vanished from her voice.
“Why not?”
“She... she had got herself into trouble. A group of men who’d... who’d tricked her into going to their flat.”
“And raped her?”
Suddenly Eileen was crying, her head hanging low, her shoulders shaking gently. For all the dogma, perhaps there was still a mother in there somewhere.
“Eileen?”
“Yes. They... they kept her there for two days.”
Helen closed her eyes. She wanted to flee from the horror of Ella’s ordeal, but the images forced themselves into her brain.
“Afterward they said they’d slit her throat if she told anyone,” Eileen continued falteringly.
“And she came home when she discovered she was pregnant?”
Eileen nodded.
“And what happened?”
“Alan turned her away. What else could he do?”
She looked up imploringly, as if begging Helen to understand. Helen wanted to shout and scream at her, but swallowed down her rage.
“When was this?”
“Six months ago.”
“And after that she was airbrushed out of the family?”
Eileen nodded.
“Before that, Alan had told people she was working overseas... for a medical charity. But afterward, he told everyone she was dead.”
“And the photos?” Helen asked, hoping against hope for a recent picture of their killer.
Eileen paused, before once more looking up at Helen with tears in her eyes.
“He burned every single one.”
106
