Page 88 of The Stolen Child

‘It was a slap in my face to return home to my wife, who couldn’t be bothered to cook her husband a meal. Who would rather ignore my express wishes to not spend her free time with a criminal. Now you know what it felt like to me.’

‘But . . . but Elsie isn’t a criminal. She’s my oldest and dearest friend,’ Sally said as she trembled in shock.

‘How do you know that? Can you honestly say Reggie hasn’t got her mixed up in his work? For all we know, she’s knee deep in it all. Her kind always are.’

‘Her kind? What kind is that?’ Sally asked. ‘Because whatever kind that is, it’s what you married!’

Anger flashed over Ian’s face again and he raised his hand.

‘You can’t hit me!’ Sally protested, holding her arms up in front of her bump to protect the baby.

‘I can and I will do as I see fit. And, as my wife, you better learn to accept that,’ he replied. ‘Keep away from Elsie Evans and anyone else from the orphanage. That part of your life is no longer relevant.’

Sally looked at him in surprise, then her eyes narrowed as understanding dawned. ‘You are embarrassed by my background. That I grew up in care. That my mother was a prostitute. That I was a cleaner.’

Ian took a step closer, picking up a strand of Sally’s blonde hair. ‘I took you in. I gave you all of this . . .’ He waved his hand around the kitchen. ‘And you should be bloody grateful. Leave the past where it belongs. Now make my dinner. I’ll have it in the sitting room on a tray.’

Then he walked away, leaving a shell-shocked Sally in his wake.

To her growing horror, in the days that followed, Ian showed no remorse. He felt justified in his actions. It was as if an alien had abducted her kind and charming husband, replacing him with a man she did not recognise.

That had been the end of their honeymoon period. And the start of a new phase in their marriage.

Life with Ian could be peaceful and loving for weeks, but then a transgression would occur – an act of disobedience from Sally for which she would have to pay the price. He restrained himself to ankle kicks, vicelike pinches and slaps – all sharp and painful, but manageable for Sally to endure.

And each time Sally swore that she would leave, because she was not the kind of woman to stay with a man who hit her. But then she’d look at her growing bump and think of her baby.

Where would they go?

What would become of her child?

Alone, would she follow in her mother’s footsteps, unable to manage, and forced to give her child up?

So Sally told herself that when the baby came it would soften Ian. It would make him see how much he had to lose if he continued his bullish behaviour.

And each day she stayed, a little bit more of her bright white light dulled.

BEFORE

July 1981

Sally

Hereford Gardens, Harrow, London

Sally held a pack of Birds Eye frozen peas against her cheek. The ice stung for a moment, but it was a welcome relief from the pain in her jaw. A gift from Ian before he’d left for work this morning.

She still struggled to understand how it had come to this.

She cocked her ear to listen for sounds from the nursery upstairs. No, all was quiet still. Her heart swelled, thinking about her baby boy taking his morning nap. So much had changed since his arrival six months ago. Her life was a continual contradiction of light and dark.

Light when it was her and the baby, every moment of being his mother a joy. Dark when Ian was home, sucking every inch of happiness from her with his mood swings and temper.

This morning, Ian was disappointed in a crease he’d found in his white shirt that she’d ironed the evening before. Sally was careful with his clothes, knowing he liked to be just so. He’d been in a mood since arriving home late the night before, grumbling that he had been overlooked for a promotion.

Sally returned to the freezer and replaced the frozen peas. She sighed as she pondered what she could do to change her situation. Over the past year, she’d tried everything to make their marriage work. She’d pleaded with Ian. She’d argued back and held her own when he attacked. She’d threatened to leave. She’d cried pitifully as he backed her into a corner. But no matter what reaction she gave him it seemed to fall on deaf ears. Ian would watch her with a half-grin as if he were enjoying her reactions.

Sally looked at the clock and decided it was time to wake Zach. She went upstairs to the nursery, smiling as she heard her son’s happy gurgles. ‘Hello, Mama’s special little boy.’