Page 69 of The Stolen Child

But, before he could, Elsie ran into the flat, out of breath, with a red-faced Nicola on her tail. Sally stood up and moved into her friend’s embrace.

‘I can’t believe this has happened, Elsie.’

Elsie stroked the back of Sally’s head as she whispered how sorry she was.

‘I’ll make us all some tea,’ Nicola said, moving into the kitchenette.

Detective Sergeant Baldwin cleared his throat, and Sally pulled away from Elsie and retook her seat. She heard the hum of the kettle in the kitchen, along with muffled whispers from her two friends.

‘I know this has been a shock for you. I’m sorry,’ Baldwin said.

‘It’s fine. Ask me whatever it is you need to know.’

He pulled out his notebook and flipped through the pages. ‘Do you know what your mother did for a living?’

Sally nodded. ‘Yes. She was a waitress.’

The detective sergeant raised his eyebrows at this. ‘Where did she work?’

‘It changed a lot. She always got restless. At least that’s what she told me. But when I spoke to her last Christmas she said she was working in a new Indian restaurant near the Finchley Road.’

Baldwin scribbled that down in his notebook. ‘Do you know the name of it?’

Sally shook her head.

‘Are you aware that your mother was arrested several times?’

Sally sat forward as if an electric shock had pierced her. This was news to her. She shook her head, afraid to ask what crime her mother had committed. Shoplifting maybe? Sally could imagine her pocketing lipstick from Woolworths and walking out the door. But nothing prepared her for the next revelation out of the detective sergeant’s mouth.

‘For soliciting.’

Sally fell back into the chair. Her cheeks flamed red as she repeated his words to herself. They didn’t make sense to her.

‘There’s . . . there’s been some mistake,’ she eventually stammered.

Sally looked over to Elsie and Nicola, who were hovering close by. Elsie’s face went so pale that Sally thought she might faint. Nicola quickly placed a cup of tea in Sally’s hands.

‘Here, love. Drink this. I’ve put sugar in for the shock.’

She then placed a cup in front of Baldwin. ‘Are you sure you have the right Lizzie Fox?’

‘There’s no mistake,’ he replied firmly. ‘I arrested her once myself. She was memorable, what with her flame-red hair.’

Sally took a sip of the hot, sweet tea. It was welcome and needed. And, as much as she wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, Sally knew she had to face this news. Taking a steadying breath, she asked, ‘When was Mum arrested?’

Baldwin opened his notebook again and flipped through a couple of pages. ‘The first time was in December 1963.’

Sally’s mind reeled as she took in the timing. ‘My mother gave me up to the orphanage in September 1963. Which was three months before she was arrested.’

Had she been prostituting before she handed Sally over to the home? Or had that happened afterwards?

She heard Elsie suck in her breath and Nicola mutter another of her ‘Oh my days’.

‘She was arrested a further two times, in 1968 and in 1971. But she’s been cautioned half a dozen times too. She was well known to the local bobby. Lizzie worked the corner of Finsbury Park, a popular spot for the women.’

‘I d-didn’t know,’ Sally stammered. Her cup shook in her hand as she tried to lift it to her mouth. She placed it back down on the coffee table, then ran to the bathroom, feeling her stomach heave and turn as she tried to digest the police officer’s words. She retched, but nothing came up. Her eyes stung as she splashed cold water on her face.

There was a light tap on the door, then Elsie poked her head in.