Page 52 of The Stolen Child

‘It’s scary, isn’t it?’ Sally said. ‘Those poor women. Bludgeoned to death with a hammer and stabbed with a screwdriver. What kind of monster does that?’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, must you always be so dramatic?’ Elsie snapped. ‘We’re supposed to be going out tonight. All this talk would depress anyone.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Sally said, but she wasn’t sure why she was apologising.

She passed the small gift-wrapped package in Elsie’s direction, hoping it might turn Elsie’s bad mood around.

‘I got you a gift. A little something to say thank you for all the meals and helping me get that job with Cyril.’

The corners of Elsie’s mouth turned up, and half a smile reappeared on her face. ‘You always were an old softie.’

She unwrapped the gift carefully and pulled out two bright purple cushion covers.

‘I know it’s your favourite colour. And I thought they might brighten the place up,’ Sally said.

Elsie’s response was to burst into tears. Sally moved closer to her, sitting on the small sofa beside her.

‘Hey, what’s this all about?’ Sally asked, surprised by Elsie’s reaction.

‘You know, in my twenty-one years, you are the only person who has ever bought me gifts since my mum . . . Well, since she died. Proper got me, this did.’ Elsie touched her heart, grinning through her tears. She reached behind her for the two beige cushions, pulled the grim covers off and replaced them with the new ones.

‘Regal. Fit for a queen,’ Sally said.

‘Some queen I am,’ Elsie replied with a laugh. ‘Put the kettle on. I’m parched.’

Ten minutes later, they were sipping tea and eating fig rolls, laughing at Sally’s tale of killer ladybirds and her impulsive call to Sister Jones.

‘We didn’t know how lucky we was until it was gone,’ Elsie stated.

‘That’s for sure. I feel sorry for the kids in the flats. They’ve nowhere to play here. We were lucky, weren’t we? That big parkland to muck about in, behind the orphanage.’

Elsie nodded towards the front door. ‘Up until I found you, I never spoke to anyone. I tried to chat with a few women on this landing when I moved in, but they seem to have little cliques. There’s a pensioner down the hall. She’s chatty, as long you don’t mind listening to her talking about her dead husband.’

‘They all keep to themselves on my landing too,’ Sally replied. ‘Thought I’d made a friend when I got stuck in a lift with a neighbour, but once we got out, she was off!’

‘Thank goodness we found each other!’ Elsie said. Then she leaned back and looked at Sally a little closer. ‘You look different. Your hair is growing out, and you’ve curled it. It suits you like that.’

Sally swished her hair and smiled. ‘I’ve been trying to do the Farrah flip! I’ve been practising, but it’s not long enough yet. I can do yours for you if you like?’

‘It would look stupid on me,’ Elsie said, frowning, as she examined her long, straight hair.

‘Leave it with me. I’ll have you all Farrah’d out before we leave here today!’ Sally glanced at Elsie shyly. ‘I have some news. I found another job today.’

Sally filled Elsie in on how her chat with Sister Jones had prompted a call into Nicola’s salon. She held her breath while waiting for Elsie to respond.

‘You probably think I’m stupid, working for nothing . . .’ Sally said, doubting herself now as Elsie regarded her quizzically.

‘There’s one thing you’ll never be, Sally Fox, and that’s stupid. I told you before you’re a shining bright white light. I’m well chuffed for you.’

‘Really?’ Sally asked, feeling warmth rise into her cheeks.

‘Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? And I’ll be expecting free haircuts for life now.’

Sally laughed out loud. ‘I think I can manage that.’

‘You should ask in the library if they have any books on hairdressing,’ Elsie suggested.

‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ Sally exclaimed. The Battersea Park Library sat on the outskirts of the Doddington Estate and it had become a lifesaver for Sally, who was a regular visitor there, borrowing books, or spending an hour at their record library, headphones on, listening to music.