Where I Found You
By Amanda Brooke

Dedication

In memory of Ted and Betty McCulloch

Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.

Helen Keller

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Epigraph

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Amanda Brooke

Author Q&A

Reading Group Question

Copyright

About the Publisher

1

With a history that spanned more than a century, Victoria Park had changed surprisingly little in the intervening years. The original geometric design, which incorporated manicured lawns, intersecting pathways and ornate flowerbeds had been faithfully preserved within its sandstone walls. It couldn’t compare to the unrestrained Cheshire countryside that circled the town of Sedgefield, but what the park did offer was a consistent link from one generation to the next.

There had, of course, been some changes over the years. The trees lining the main avenue had matured, dirt paths had been paved, cobbles had been replaced by concrete, and the bowling green, bandstand and children’s playground had all undergone various cycles of disrepair and rejuvenation. But for the most part the park’s gentle evolution had gone unnoticed.

In one particular corner, on the north side of the ornamental lake, the passage of time had been noticed least of all. It was here you would find a single wrought iron bench nestled between a steep embankment and the water’s edge. It was one of the park’s originals although it was true to say that visitors were more likely to remember the view they had taken in, the conversations they had shared or the thoughts they had explored rather than the unremarkable seat they had settled back upon.

There was, however, one person who had noticed the bench. She knew each curve of its intricate iron frame and every wooded knot buried beneath the layers of chipped paint. But then Maggie Carter knew Victoria Park better than most. She had grown up in Sedgefield and now lived close enough to hear the creak of the park’s gates from her doorstep. It called to her and she rarely resisted, even in the depths of winter when the wind gathered momentum across the playing fields and sucked the air out of her lungs.

The main avenue which sliced the park in half led directly to Sedgefield High Street where Maggie worked, but given a choice she preferred to meander along its circuitous twisting paths. Only occasionally, if the weather was too awful, was she forced to forgo her usual detour to the lake. Thankfully, today was not one of those days.

Harvey sniffed the air as they made their way through a small coppice where, overhead, branches scraped nervously against each other in the breeze. April was being kind and the sun was shining but its fragile warmth was fractured by the shade of the denuded trees. Maggie hunched her shoulders against the sudden cold. Her short dark hair suited her slight frame and gave her face an elfin look but provided no buffer against the chill.

Their pace quickened and the Labrador’s paws squelched beneath the slimy mulch, swollen from an early morning drizzle. The dog was powerful enough to lift her off her feet but he matched his mistress’s pace perfectly. Rapid footfalls approaching from the opposite direction suggested that they weren’t the only ones eager to escape the spindly shadows.

‘Hi, Maggie,’ Alice called. ‘Off to the lake by any chance?’

Maggie and Harvey came to a stop to say hello to one of the regulars at the beauty salon where she worked. ‘You can join me for lunch if you like,’ Maggie offered, lifting a bag. The air filled with tantalising hints of garlic and sundried tomatoes before the breeze carried them away.

‘Thanks, but I’m out for a slap-up meal later so I’d better save myself.’

‘Ah yes, how could I forget? Happy birthday!’

‘Thanks, Maggie. It’s a lot of fuss about nothing but my family do love to celebrate.’

‘You can’t fool me. I know you’re the one who’s the party animal.’

‘Haven’t you heard? Sixty is the new forty,’ Alice replied with a gentle laugh that quickly degenerated into a coughing fit. The telltale smell of smoke suggested she hadn’t long put out a cigarette.

‘I thought you’d given up,’ Maggie said, although she wasn’t surprised. A forty-year habit was going to be a tough one to break.

‘I’m cutting down,’ Alice replied guiltily.

‘Next time you’re having your hair done you should make an appointment to see me too. I might be able to find something to ease your chest.’

An aromatherapist by trade, Maggie ran her own business from a local beauty salon. Sedgefield was a small town and although the High Street was busy, setting up had been quite a gamble. She only worked part-time but in the last eight years she had built up a loyal clientele, which more than justified her efforts, although Alice was yet to be one of them.

‘The problem is I have a one-track mind when I walk into that place,’ Alice continued. ‘There’s always some new hair colour I want to try and it’ll be even more tempting now I get a pensioners’ discount. My granddaughter wants me to have blue highlights next time!’

‘The discount applies to my treatments too,’ Maggie reminded her. ‘And I’ll be in all afternoon if you’re passing.’

‘Thanks, Maggie, I might just do that,’ Alice said without conviction.

They said their goodbyes and Maggie hurried towards the warm embrace of the sun. She was a familiar face in the park and there followed a rash of hellos on the way to the lake but no more delays.

Lunchtime was quiet during the working week and although Maggie enjoyed the weekend hustle and bustle she was happy to sit and soak up the peace and quiet which was broken only occasionally by the disgruntled quack of a duck looking for food. Memories flooded her mind, as she knew they would. She and her favourite bench shared a long history. Her mum had brought her to this spot often and one of Maggie’s earliest memories was trying to clamber up on to the bench by herself, using its green-painted slats for purchase and pretending not to notice when her mum helped her make that final push.

Harvey, meanwhile, was more interested in the present and pushed his head against her hand. When she began to knead his neck, digging her fingers deep into his vanilla fur, the dog let out a low groan of pleasure followed by a frustrated whine.

‘OK, I get the message,’ she said and began to unpack their picnic. She filled two feeding bowls for Harvey and he duly ignored the water, opting for the dried food which he devoured eagerly as Maggie set about her own lunch.

Halfway through Maggie’s second sandwich, Harvey’s tail began to thump against her leg. She could hear little feet galloping along the path towards them, the source of Harvey’s growing excitement.

‘Harvey! Good boy,’ Josh cried as he wrapped himself around the dog, almost knocking Maggie’s lunch box off her knee.

The three-year-old’s mum arrived huffing and puffing half a minute later. ‘I’ve told you before, don’t go running off like that,’ she said before muttering, ‘bloody kids,’ under her breath.

‘I see he’s still keeping you on your toes,’ Maggie said, trying to keep the mood light. Lorna was another regular to the salon and although they weren’t exactly friends Maggie knew the young mum well enough to know that she would launch into a string of complaints about motherhood given half the chance. It was an encounter she could do without right now.

‘Can I feed the ducks?’ the little boy asked.

Lorna groaned. ‘I forgot the bread. We’ll feed them tomorrow.’

Maggie sensed all attention being drawn to her half-eaten sandwich and she tore off the crust. ‘Here, give them this, Josh.’

‘Say thank you,’ Lorna told him as he snatched the bread from Maggie’s hand.

‘Thank you, Maggie.’

The chorus of quacks grew in intensity as the little boy approached the water’s edge and Lorna collapsed onto the bench with a loud sigh. ‘We’re not interrupting you, are we?’

Maggie swallowed up the remnants of her sandwich in one mouthful before replying. ‘No, it’s OK. I have to head off to work now anyway.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Lorna said. ‘I could do with some adult conversation for a change.’

Maggie ignored the subtle hint to stay and began packing up her things. ‘Maybe next time.’

‘Actually, I’m glad I caught you. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.’ Lorna spoke urgently but then paused to lower her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’

Maggie froze, too stunned to reply. Josh’s laughter cut into the silence.

‘It’s just that I saw you with Mel the other day and …’

‘Oh.’

‘So? Are you?’

To date, only a handful of trusted friends had been told the news but Maggie was having her three-month scan the next day and she had already promised James they would announce the news then so there seemed little point in denying it if Lorna had spotted her with the midwife. ‘I’m due in October,’ she said.

‘Really? I am surprised, I mean, I didn’t even think you could.’

‘I know, James and I have been married for less than a year but I’m thirty-two and I don’t want to leave it much longer.’ Maggie was deliberately misunderstanding Lorna’s comment.

‘No, I didn’t mean that,’ Lorna said but refused to explain further. Instead, she gave Harvey a heavy pat on the back. He was resting his head on Maggie’s lap as if he knew his mistress needed the moral support.

‘Oh, you mean because I’m visually impaired?’ She wasn’t sure how she managed to keep her tone light although Lorna’s tactless response was no more than she expected from her less-informed acquaintances. It was the reason she had been more than happy to keep her pregnancy a secret for as long as possible.

‘You have to admit that it’s going to be difficult. I bet social services will be watching you like a hawk.’

Maggie began stroking Harvey, her fingers following the broad contours of his nose and head. She could feel his eyelashes flutter against her palm. He was watching her. ‘Mel is amazingly supportive and yes, there will be challenges – but nothing I can’t handle. I simply have to find different solutions to the same problems faced by any new mother,’ she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. It was only the occasional squeal from Josh as he teased the ducks that kept her spirits buoyed, reminding her that motherhood had its rewards.

Despite having planned to start a family, Maggie had been shell-shocked when she found out she was pregnant. She had been fast approaching thirty before she and James met, by which point the hope of being a wife and mother had dimmed in much the same way as her vision had when she was six years old and had suffered a severe bout of measles, which had left her with only a vague sense of light and shade and no sense of colour. James’s appearance had brought a new kind of light into her world and it hadn’t taken them long to realise that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. They had moved into the house opposite Victoria Park just over a year ago, by which point they were already planning a baby as well as their wedding. But then another guiding light in Maggie’s life had been snuffed out. Her mum had died.

When Maggie had lost her sight, Joan had been the one to encourage her daughter to develop her other senses to the point where she found her residual sense of vision almost distracting and often wore sunglasses to filter it out. Together they had found new and innovative ways for Maggie to absorb the beauty of the world around her. Her sense of hearing could pinpoint her position whether from the echo of her voice off a wall, the hum of traffic from the road or a tree shivering in the breeze. Her sense of touch, be it from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes, could build up a picture of the world within her grasp and the ground beneath her feet. Taste added texture and depth to the food she ate or the skin she kissed, but it was her sense of smell that had been one of the most exciting voyages of discovery. Joan used an array of spices, fruits and flowers to bring the colour back into Maggie’s world, dabbing natural scents onto everyday objects to give her daughter the means to visualise her unseen world. It was almost inevitable that Maggie would one day make her living from her obsession with aromas.

But it wasn’t only the practicalities of life that Joan had helped with; she had instilled a sense of worth in her daughter which gave Maggie the confidence to face any challenges life could throw at her, so much so that she and James hadn’t even discussed whether or not they should reconsider their plans to become parents after her mum had died and had let nature take its course.

It was only now, as she sensed the news of her pregnancy being picked up on the breeze and released into the world, that Maggie felt the full force of the loneliness and isolation she had been feeling. She had James, of course, and she had close friends; her closest being Jenny who was her honorary sister and a new mother herself. Only … she didn’t have the one person who would have been there, not only to tell her that she could do this but to dare anyone to suggest otherwise.

Maggie still had her dad but Stan had moved to Spain to be mollycoddled by his sister. Everyone agreed it was the best thing for him after losing his wife but his daughter would need to choose the right time to tell him the news – as tempting as it was, she didn’t want him catching the next flight home. Even his presence wouldn’t be enough to fill the gaping hole in his daughter’s life, a hole that had allowed self-doubt to creep in.

‘I imagine James will have his work cut out,’ Lorna said, seemingly determined to erode her confidence further. ‘Is he happy about it?’

Maggie was about to answer but a noise caught her attention. She was turning urgently towards the lake even before she realised it was the sound of feet sloshing about in water. ‘Is Josh all right?’ she asked but the sound of the little boy’s cry for help was answer enough and the splashing grew thunderous.

Lorna launched herself to her feet and Maggie quickly released Harvey from his leash. She could hear his claws scraping against the concrete slipway as he ran to the little boy’s aid. Josh’s wails intensified as Lorna dragged him out of the water and read him the riot act.

‘At least he’s safe,’ Maggie offered when Lorna returned with a dripping and sobbing Josh in her arms. The smell of stagnant water and bird droppings was strong enough to burn the back of her nostrils and Harvey, who had returned to Maggie’s side, summed up his own feelings with a wet sneeze.

Lorna muttered a mixture of apologies and goodbyes as she manhandled her son to his feet and proceeded to drag the snivelling child away. Once tranquillity had returned, Harvey rested his head on Maggie’s lap to resume his vigil. He licked her hand, which she had placed protectively over her stomach. No longer in a hurry to get to work, she imagined what might have happened if it had been her child and not Josh wandering into the water. What if she had been on her own and there had been no one to pull him to safety? How would she have coped? What had she been thinking getting pregnant in the first place?

‘I’m scared, Mum,’ she said as loud as she dared. ‘I’m so scared.’

The only response was the gentle lapping at the water’s edge. She found herself wondering how deep the lake was and, for a fleeting moment, she imagined plunging into a dark abyss. Her stomach lurched and her hand reached out next to her, hoping for some kind of ethereal resistance but her mum wasn’t there. There was no one left who would understand how she felt, but why should they? These feelings of insecurity were new to her, too. Had she become a victim of her own overconfidence?

It was Harvey who eventually led Maggie away from the lake but as she climbed the steep path towards the main avenue she couldn’t leave behind the growing sense of dread as easily as she could the lingering smell of Josh’s unfortunate dip in the lake. Maggie caught her breath once she reached the top of the slope where she suddenly detected the faintest scent of lilac. It was a synthetic fragrance and stopped her in her tracks. There were no sounds to suggest anyone near but Maggie felt someone watching her.

‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

The only response was the gentle waft of Harvey’s tail but their greetings went unanswered.

Elsa watched a family of ducks cutting through the glassy stillness of the lake, leaving a sleek trail of ripples to sparkle in the sunshine. Despite their gentle progress, she felt unnerved and began rubbing her forehead as she scanned the water for the more elegant outline of the swans. She was still searching when a young woman appeared like a spectre in front of her but Elsa’s attention wouldn’t be drawn from the lake and the now-empty bench.

Tucked away in the curved embrace of an embankment, the bench was surrounded by tall rhododendron bushes that looked a little careworn after winter’s worst although fresh green buds could be seen peeking through the dark evergreen foliage. In contrast, the flowerbeds had already enjoyed the first blooms of spring and countless purple and yellow crocuses sparkled invitingly.

It was only when Elsa began to make her way down the slope that she realised how exhausted she felt. She spent most days on her feet at the greengrocer’s and the hard graft was made harder still by the burden she carried. She tried not to think about the baby. It was bad enough having aching legs – she didn’t need to be reminded of her aching heart too.

Her sense of unease increased as she approached the bench. It was a different colour and she expected the dark brown paint to be wet to the touch but it was bone dry and already flaking. Elsa sat down and, closing her eyes, inhaled deeply. Her body melded into the familiar curve of the seat and her growing tension began to dissipate. She pushed out her stomach and stretched her spine.

When she opened her eyes again, Elsa felt calmer and her thoughts cleared. She lifted up her legs to check her feet. They were even more swollen than she had feared and she let them drop back down with a thud. She was only twenty-two but she felt older, her youth eroded by the harsh realities of life. Spreading her fingers she discovered yet more joints that ached – and she felt no emotional connection to the simple gold wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand. But why should she? It wasn’t hers. She had borrowed it from Mrs Jackson who had told her she would make better use of it than an old, lonely widow.

Elsa hadn’t known a soul when she had arrived in Sedgefield a month earlier but Mrs Jackson had become a good friend and confidant. It had been Elsa’s sister Celia who had convinced her that running away to Sedgefield was for the best; she could stay long enough to hide her shame before returning home to Liverpool – alone – to pick up her old life as if nothing had happened. Celia was older by four years and happy enough to be married to a boring civil servant, living in Manchester and popping out children every other year. It wasn’t the kind of future Elsa had ever imagined for herself – she had wanted to live life to the full until discovering there was a price to pay for her recklessness. Celia, expecting her fourth child, had taken control when Elsa confessed she might be pregnant too, and it had been her sister’s GP who had confirmed their suspicions. Together with the doctor’s wife, whose aunt ran a guesthouse in Sedgefield, Celia devised a plan for Elsa’s future and that of her baby.

Which was how she had ended up here, claiming to be a distant relative of Mrs Jackson, recently widowed and pregnant. It was all lies but lying was something Elsa had become used to. Her mum thought she was staying with Celia to help her prepare for her next child and would be horrified to discover where she really was and why.

Elsa looked out over the lake. The water appeared darker than it had from the top of the slope, reflecting barren treetops rather than blue sky. ‘What in God’s name am I doing here all alone?’ she asked. Her forlorn words, spoken out loud, were barely audible but trickled towards the water’s edge. ‘I need you Freddie. I need you to save me.’

As if in answer to her question the future, which had already been laid out for Elsa, flashed before her eyes and she let out a whimper. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body in a vain attempt to hold on to the baby she was destined to lose but it was hopeless. She wasn’t strong enough, not on her own. Her chest heaved and the pain of her heart being rent in two was impossible to bear. In slow, deliberate movements, she placed both hands on the bench and pushed against her palms as she prepared to launch herself from her seat and into the lake. Her body shook with an all-consuming need to let the waters drag her body down into the abyss and her misery along with it. But Elsa stayed where she was – she wasn’t brave enough.

Not yet.

2

‘Do you mind if my daughter strokes him?’ a woman asked as Maggie sat waiting to be called in for her scan.

‘You’d better ask my wife that question,’ James answered. His tone was pleasant enough but there was an edge to it that only Maggie could detect. It wasn’t unusual for strangers to direct their questions to a companion rather than Maggie herself and, where she had learnt patience and perseverance, James struggled to curb his frustrations. She had to remind him occasionally that he had been equally ignorant not that long ago and, with few exceptions, such interest was borne of good intent.

‘Yes, I’m sure he’d love the attention,’ Maggie answered. ‘And thank you for asking first. You wouldn’t believe the kind of havoc it can cause when someone rushes up and starts distracting him while he’s guiding me.’

Maggie introduced Harvey to the little girl who was two years old and in complete awe of him, as was her mum. Maggie pre-empted many of the questions she knew would follow but she didn’t mind singing Harvey’s praises, he deserved it. She couldn’t help smiling to herself as she told the woman how disciplined her guide dog was and how he kept to a strict diet, all the time knowing that Harvey was salivating over the cookie the toddler had offered to share but he had known better than to accept. But then she had been tempted herself to take the little girl up on her offer; she had been too nervous that morning to eat and her stomach was growling.

It wasn’t long before the conversation moved on to more maternal matters and for a little while Maggie chatted away like any other expectant mum. She could almost forget her fears, which had been compounded the moment she had entered the hospital. Its corridors of power were part of the system that would judge her fitness to be a mother – or so she imagined.

‘Maggie, are you ready?’

‘Mel, what are you doing here?’

‘I’m on ward duty upstairs and it’s unbelievably quiet. Then I thought to myself, I’m sure Maggie’s scan is today, so here I am. Hello, James,’ she added, leaning in for a peck on the cheek.

‘Good to see you, Mel, and what a coincidence that you were free,’ James said, a little too brightly.

Maggie heard the lie but chose not to recognise it as such. She was too busy feeling relieved and very grateful to the midwife – and no doubt James – for arranging the additional support that Maggie would never openly ask for. When she stood up, her knees trembled and she held on tightly to James’s hand as she waited for Harvey to extricate himself from the chubby arms of his new friend. The little girl’s howls could still be heard long after he had led his mistress into the examination room.

Mel introduced them to the sonographer, who was a young, officious-sounding young man called Joel, while James helped Maggie onto the examination bed. With some discreet adjustment of her top and leggings, she exposed enough of her abdomen for the man to do his job. At fourteen weeks, her stomach was still relatively flat and she could almost convince herself that she wasn’t pregnant.

‘I’m going to apply some gel first, it might be a bit cold,’ Joel said and he was right. Maggie jumped when he squirted it on her stomach.

‘It might have been better if you had placed a finger on her stomach first and then said exactly when you were going to apply the gel,’ Mel hissed at him.

‘Sorry,’ he said and there was a nervous cough before he continued to explain what would happen next. With a little more thought this time, he encouraged Maggie to feel the transducer he would be using for the scan. It was about the size of an electric razor and similar in shape. The room fell silent as he began moving it across her abdomen in firm, sweeping strokes. His probing became concentrated on a small area only inches above her groin, directly over her bladder, which was uncomfortably full. She had been drinking water in the waiting room as instructed and would be heading for the ladies as soon as they were finished. ‘I’m going to take some measurements now,’ Joel said.

‘Then I’ll be the one to explain what we can see,’ Mel whispered, loud enough for the sonographer to pick up her irritation. ‘It’s a grainy black and white image, lots of indistinguishable blobs really but we can see a steady heart beating. Right now Joel has frozen the image on a particular frame so he can take some measurements. There’s a very faint outline of baby’s face, a really clear white line which is his spine and I can even make out his arms and legs.’

‘He?’ asked James.

‘I call all my babies he,’ explained Mel. ‘It’s a bit too early to work out baby’s sex but if you want our friend here to earn his money, we could have a go.’

‘I don’t want to know yet,’ Maggie said. She was still struggling with the idea that there was a living being growing inside her. ‘Do you, James?’

‘No, me neither.’

‘Did you find out with the boys?’ Maggie asked.

The boys were James’s two sons from his first marriage. Liam was nine and Sam seven. Fatherhood hadn’t been easy first time around for her husband. The divorce had been amicable enough but the strain of his ex-wife moving to Portsmouth after she remarried had pushed him to his limits. The five-hundred-mile round trip to see his children or bring them up north for visits was hard going on all of them but thankfully, it was still worth James’s efforts as far Liam and Sam were concerned.

‘With Sam we did,’ James said. ‘But that was only to find out if we could reuse Liam’s baby clothes or needed to start saving up for dresses.’

‘OK, everything looks fine,’ the sonographer announced bringing them back to the present. ‘You were given a due date of 24 October and that matches my measurements so everything is going to plan.’

‘I suppose there’s no going back now,’ Maggie said, hoping that no one noticed the serious tone that had crept into what should have been a light quip.

‘And now that we know everything is as it should be,’ Mel added, ‘I’ve brought my Doppler with me to listen for baby’s heartbeat. It might be too early to pick up yet but I can give it a try if you want me to.’

Maggie was obliged to say yes but when Mel placed it on her abdomen and radio static filled the room, she fought the urge to push it away. Hearing the description of an image on screen was one thing but this was something else entirely. Maggie’s heartbeat quickened and the Doppler picked up her anxiety for all to hear but then there was another beat. It was only faint, much faster and impossible to ignore. Maggie steeled herself for the crushing wave of panic she expected but instead, indescribable warmth flooded her chest and took her breath away. The trembling smile was on her lips even before she realised that this was how motherhood was meant to feel and she prayed for the strength to hold onto that feeling.

As they left the hospital, Maggie and James didn’t say a word. Maggie held Harvey’s harness in one hand and James’s hand in the other. Her ears were straining for the faintest echo of the tiny heartbeat that had swept away weeks of fear and self-doubt. She wanted to laugh. Instead she began to cry.

Her tears slipped silently down her face and it was only as they reached the car that James noticed. ‘Are you all right?’

There was no alarm in his voice; in fact Maggie could detect a smile. Harvey was a little more difficult to reassure and whined nervously as he settled into the caged compartment at the back of the car. Maggie rubbed behind his ears. ‘It’s OK, Harvey. Mummy’s … happy.’

James cupped his hands around her face and wiped away the tears with his thumbs. ‘Are you?’

‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Of course.’

‘It’s just what you said in there, about there being “no going back”. I got the feeling you weren’t so sure. In fact, I’ve been wondering that for a while. You’re not the closed book you like to think you are.’

Maggie took one of his hands and kissed it gently. The sense of euphoria was still running through her veins and it made her brave enough to confess some if not all of her hidden fears. ‘It’s more a matter of not feeling ready, that’s all. There are so many new things to learn,’ she said. ‘But when I heard that heartbeat, I felt such a rush of love and it took me by surprise. So yes, honestly, I am happy.’

As James wrapped her in his arms, Maggie buried her head into his broad shoulders. His six-foot frame towered over Maggie’s slender figure and even though he was thickset, it was more muscle than flab thanks to an active working life. He was a builder by trade, a gentle giant who would protect her and keep her safe but he had a vulnerable side too and it was this that had attracted her to him more than anything.

Maggie’s first impressions of James hadn’t come from his appearance but the timbre of his voice and he had sounded lost. His ex-wife had just broken the news about moving down south and he had been suffering from stress-related eczema. It was Kathy, the owner of the beauty salon where Maggie worked and a good friend of James’s mum, who had suggested he try aromatherapy. Kathy’s poorly disguised matchmaking had cured James’s ailments far more effectively than the myrrh and sandalwood Maggie had massaged into his hands.

She raised her head towards her husband. ‘And are you happy?’ It was the first time she had acknowledged that James’s reaction to the pregnancy had been as muted as her own.

‘Yes.’

‘Really?’ Maggie asked, not getting the confirmation she needed.

‘I love you, Maggie, and marrying you and having this baby is the answer to all my prayers, but if I’m being really honest, the prospect of becoming a dad again is scaring me. I don’t want to get it wrong this time.’

‘You didn’t get it wrong last time. You’re a good dad,’ Maggie countered.

‘And you are going to be a fantastic mother. I know you’re missing your mum right now but I’m sure Joan is still around watching over you.’

Maggie recalled the empty seat next to her on the park bench and the sensation of her hand cutting through fresh air. ‘Maybe,’ she said.

‘So now your mum knows, don’t you think it’s about time we tell the rest of our parents?’ James asked as he helped her into the car. It wasn’t necessary but she knew he would be just as attentive of his pregnant wife even if she had perfect vision.

‘I don’t suppose we can put it off forever.’

James didn’t answer. He closed the passenger door and walked around to his side of the car giving them both time to collect their thoughts. Maggie had already told him the night before about her encounter with Lorna, although she had been economical with the details, mentioning only that the news was out. James would have phoned his parents there and then if Judith and Ken hadn’t been away visiting their grandchildren in Portsmouth. He wanted to be the one to tell Liam and Sam and to reassure them that the baby wasn’t going to alter his relationship with them. He hadn’t needed to explain why it wasn’t a good idea to attempt that while Judith was around to offer her own opinions.

James slipped behind the steering wheel and as he straightened his jacket, she heard the rustle of paper. The baby scan photo was burning a hole in his pocket. ‘This is good news we’re sharing,’ he reminded her.

‘I know and I’d like to hold on to that thought for as long as I can but let’s be realistic, James. Some people will find it difficult to accept that a blind person could ever be a fit and proper parent.’

‘Telling Mum and Dad won’t be as bad as you think,’ he said, acknowledging who it was they were talking about.

‘Do you really believe that?’

The pause that followed confirmed that he accepted that it wouldn’t be easy. His parents had struggled from the very beginning to comprehend why their son would take on such a burden as Maggie and despite concerted effort on the part of the newlyweds, she was still a relative stranger to her in-laws.

Maggie and James had been dating for almost a year before he had plucked up the courage to introduce her to his family. Liam and Sam had been staying with James over the summer holidays and he had organised a family barbeque so they could all get to know each other. The boys were curious about Maggie and amazed at her ability to carry out simple day-to-day tasks that they tried to imitate with their eyes closed. Their initial questions were blunt but openly innocent and Maggie had been more amused than offended. Judith’s questioning, by comparison, had been more akin to a cross-examination.

‘OK, we both know Mum has her own ideas about what’s best for her family but maybe when she hears about the baby, she’ll finally …’

James didn’t dare finish the sentence so Maggie finished it for him. ‘Accept me?’

‘She’s a good mum, Maggie. Overprotective of me, yes, but that’s only because she doesn’t want to see me hurt again. Maybe it would help if we spent more time with them.’

‘They seem to be able to find their way to Portsmouth far easier than the fifteen-mile trip from Nantwich. Your mum doesn’t like me, James. She doesn’t think I’m looking after you properly, she doesn’t think I can,’ Maggie said. She knew James was about to contradict her so she quickly added, ‘Take her reaction to finding out you make a packed lunch every morning. I was trying to explain how it’s to stop you pigging out on fast food but she was too busy being horrified that it was you making the lunch and not me.’ Maggie shook her head as if to free herself from a web of negative thoughts. ‘Even if I had perfect vision, I still wouldn’t live up to her expectations. No matter how hard I try, I’m never going to be good enough because I’m not Carolyn.’

‘I know, you’re nothing like my ex-wife and I thank God for that,’ James said with undisguised relief. ‘And for the record, I’m more than happy to make my own lunch, thank you very much. You’d only make me eat even more healthily.’ He paused hopefully for a smile that wouldn’t come. ‘Look, they’ll be coming home soon. How about we invite them over for dinner on Saturday?’

Maggie let her body sag and as the car engine roared into life it drowned out the sound of the tiny heartbeat that had echoed across her mind. ‘With any luck they’ll turn you down as usual.’

James chose to ignore her petulance. ‘Maggie, it’s going to be fine.’

‘OK, invite them – but only on the condition that I can invite Jenny along too. She’s been looking for an excuse to leave Mark holding the baby for a change and besides, I’ll need reinforcements.’

‘I don’t want you worrying about this. It doesn’t matter what other people think. What matters is us, the three of us.’

‘And the boys,’ she reminded him as if he needed it.

‘And our beautiful boys,’ he agreed. ‘At least I can guarantee you that they’ll be absolutely thrilled.’

Maggie closed her eyes. She wasn’t used to feeling sorry for herself but as she leant back against the headrest she swallowed back the bitter taste of bile. She didn’t want to come between James and his mum because she knew how much his family meant to him, but she couldn’t imagine how announcing they were having a baby would bring them any closer. As the second wife, Maggie was always going to be second best in Judith’s eyes and becoming a mother would only give her mother-in-law a new means of comparison with her predecessor. Maggie suspected that Lorna’s reaction would pale into insignificance compared to Judith’s – who would refuse to see beyond Maggie’s disability and her limitations. And on some matters, Maggie’s instincts were never wrong.

3

Maggie flexed her fingers absent-mindedly. It was Saturday morning and she was taking a moment out of what was going to be a busy day. She had everything she needed for dinner that evening but was trying not to think about it. Her heavy shopping bag lay abandoned at the side of the bench while Maggie filled her mind with the sounds of the park, which was busier than it had been for weeks. The weather was glorious and Maggie lifted her face to the violet sky to soak up the sun’s lemon rays and bring subtle light to the grey shadows that played across her vision.

Harvey was steadily lapping up water from his bowl, the soothing sound temporarily drowned out by the chatter of children rushing along the path towards the lake. Next she heard the heavy, rhythmic footsteps of a jogger. The runner took a deep breath before calling out hello to her. He didn’t pause for her reply but continued up the slope, his laboured breathing intensifying with the effort.

Harvey stopped drinking and gently nudged her hand in search of treats. It was a futile attempt and he knew it. To commit to this regime required willpower from both of them but there were occasional lapses and Harvey was hopeful. ‘How about some carrot sticks when we get home?’ she offered as consolation.

The dog gave a sharp snort of disapproval and then, reading her body language perfectly, settled at her feet. Maggie kept one hand on his leash and let the other trace the familiar contours of the bench and the empty place next to her, which continued to play on her mind.

She braved a smile as she listened to the children’s excited calls of encouragement to the ducks and placid quacks were soon replaced by a frenzy of flapping wings and splashing water. To ward off unwelcome thoughts that might drag her down beneath the surface of the lake, Maggie immersed herself in memories of the past. She remembered flinging pieces of bread high into the air as her mum gave a running commentary on the action being played out on the lake, remembered the buzz of excitement listening to the ducks fighting over the remnants of the picnic she and her mum had just shared sitting on their favourite bench.

But the memory was bittersweet, a reminder of all that she had had and all that she had lost. Maggie had always come across as confident and self-assured, but it was her mum who had instilled that sense of self-belief and without her guiding presence Maggie was losing her way. Of all the challenges she had faced in her life, having a baby would be the greatest test of all and one she couldn’t get wrong. It wasn’t only her life she was responsible for now.

Frightened by the future, Maggie retreated further into the past and disconnected from the world around her. There were so many memories to dip into … The park was where her mum had taught her how to explore the world through touch and smell and Maggie recalled the scents from those lost seasons one by one.

The sun dipped behind a cloud and a cool breeze swirled around her, carrying with it the distinctive smell of lilac perfume. It was vaguely familiar but Maggie resisted being pulled back to the present, stretching out her hand across the bench in a desperate attempt to hold on to the tenuous connection to her mum but her fingers touched the heavy material of a woollen coat giving Maggie a start and snapping her out of her reverie.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,’ the woman next to her said.

Elsa couldn’t resist the chance to sit in the sunshine and chase away the chill that had crept into her bones. She wasn’t going to be put off by the children’s raucous laughter or the woman and her dog, who seemed to be claiming the park bench as their own. It was her bench too.

She had offered a friendly smile as she approached but the woman, whose eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, seemed to be in a world of her own so Elsa sat down next to her without a word. She breathed in the scent of the lilacs that came from the soap at Mrs Jackson’s house. Elsa wasn’t particularly keen on it but she didn’t want to offend Aunt Flo, as she insisted on being called. The old lady had taken her under her wing and seemed to genuinely care for her new charge.

But despite Aunt Flo’s fussing, Elsa was feeling more lost and alone than ever and it was as these feelings plagued her that the stranger sitting next to her had reached out her hand. They had both jumped in fright.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,’ Elsa offered.

The woman, who looked only a little older than Elsa, gave her an apologetic smile. ‘No, I’m sorry. I was miles away.’

‘It’s a lovely spot here, don’t you think? A good place to sit back and …’ she said but then couldn’t think how to explain it.

‘Let the world go by?’

‘Take the weight off your feet,’ Elsa added. She was watching the way the woman had placed her hand protectively over her stomach. Elsa groaned as she stretched and let her own bump protrude, hoping the woman might take the hint, but she simply smiled.

‘I’m Maggie, by the way. I don’t think we’ve met before, have we?’

‘I haven’t been in Sedgefield long. My name’s Elsa.’ Her voice sounded hoarse so she cleared her throat before adding, ‘And who’s this cutie?’

Harvey padded towards Elsa’s outstretched arm as Maggie said, ‘This is my sidekick, Harvey.’

The dog shook himself as his new friend tickled his back. ‘I like your fancy jacket, Harvey.’

‘Harvey’s my guide dog. I’m visually impaired,’ Maggie explained.

Elsa gasped in awe. ‘You’re blind?’

Maggie gave a soft laugh. ‘Yes and I’d be lost without him. Literally.’

‘I’ve heard about dogs being trained to help soldiers who’ve lost their sight but I’ve never seen one before.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, I don’t think so,’ Elsa said suddenly doubting herself. ‘I’m from Liverpool so I suppose there must be a few there.’

‘Have you moved here for good or are you just passing through?’

Elsa flinched at the idea of returning home, though she knew she would one day. ‘I’m not staying forever,’ she said and began to rub her stomach in perfect synchronicity with her new friend. ‘I’m pregnant too, by the way.’

A look of confusion flashed across the woman’s face and her hand stilled.

‘You are pregnant, aren’t you?’ Elsa asked, horrified that she might have got it wrong.

Maggie’s reply faltered as she said, ‘Yes, yes I am. I suppose now you’re wondering how on earth a blind woman can have a baby.’ The comment was light-hearted but there was something in her voice that was more of a challenge.

‘Why not? You don’t need eyes to find your way to a man’s heart,’ Elsa whispered mischievously.

Maggie laughed. ‘No, I don’t suppose you do. And I’m sorry if I sounded a bit defensive. I really should stop assuming people will immediately judge me.’

Elsa glanced at the wedding band on her finger. ‘I’m the last person to judge anyone,’ she said, her words catching in her throat.

‘Is something wrong?’

Elsa didn’t dare answer.

‘It’s all a bit frightening, don’t you think?’ Maggie said to fill the lengthening silence.

Elsa looked out over the glassy surface of the lake. ‘Too frightening, sometimes,’ she agreed.

‘Want to talk about it?’

Elsa shook her head vigorously. The story of how she was recently widowed was a well-rehearsed one but she couldn’t bear to tell one more person how the love of her life had been taken from her: it would break her heart. ‘I’m supposed to tell you that my husband died and I’m staying with Aunt Flo until I’ve had the baby.’

‘But …’

‘I can’t say.’ Elsa put her hand to her mouth to hold back the confession that was ready to tumble over her lips.

‘My mum always said there was something special about this bench,’ Maggie said, after another lengthy pause. ‘Now you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but me and this old bench are good listeners and neither of us will tell a soul.’

‘I’ve wanted to tell someone for so long,’ Elsa said. ‘You promise you won’t tell?’

‘I promise.’

She let her hand drop to her side and her fingers followed the gentle curve of the wooden slats beneath her as she steadied herself. ‘Aunt Flo isn’t my aunt, she’s not even a distant relative and there is no husband, dead or otherwise. The only grain of truth in the story is that I am pregnant, five months by my reckoning.’

‘These things happen, but it’s not exactly unheard of. If you don’t mind me asking, Elsa, how old are you?’

‘Twenty-two.’

A frown creased Maggie’s brow. ‘That’s still very young,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Don’t you have any family to support you?’

‘Oh, my parents would kill me if they found out. Dad kept telling me if I didn’t curb my wild streak, it’d end in tears, and Mum made it clear that if I got in trouble she would rather see me on the street than bring shame on us all. It would destroy them if they found out. Only my sister Celia knows.’

‘So what will you do when the baby’s born? Surely your parents will come around once they see their new grandchild.’

Elsa would have laughed if the hope that was being dangled in front of her wasn’t so impossibly beyond her reach. ‘They won’t,’ she said stoically. ‘And there’s no way I can manage on my own so I’ll go back to Liverpool and the baby will go to a respectable family.’

‘Is that what you want?’

Elsa pulled her coat around her tightly as she imagined her newborn baby being wrenched from her arms. ‘What I want is Freddie. I want him to ride into Sedgefield on his motorbike and rescue us both,’ Elsa said. ‘But that’s a silly dream, isn’t it? Freddie doesn’t even know I’m here. Or why.’

‘You won’t tell him?’

‘He’s an American serviceman. We met at a dance while he was stationed at the Burtonwood airbase.’

‘Burtonwood? I thought that site had closed down years ago?’

‘No, I know some people who are still there, just not my Freddie. He broke my heart.’

‘You fell in love,’ Maggie said simply.

‘A man in a uniform, how could I resist? When I found out he was being posted to Germany, it felt like someone had ripped out my heart. But we made the most of those last few weeks together – and that’s how I ended up like this. If I’d known then what kind of trouble I was in, I wouldn’t have been so eager to break things off when he left. I thought I was being all grown up about it. I didn’t want to wait around for the rest of my life while he would eventually go back to America and forget about me.’

As Elsa spoke, she continued to stroke Harvey. He had stayed close and whined once or twice, offering his own note of sympathy as Elsa revealed her heartbreak.

‘So why don’t you contact him now and let him know?’

‘Because I wanted him to come back for me and not because he found out I was pregnant. And in my heart that’s what I thought he would do, even on that last night together when we said our goodbyes.’ Elsa took a breath and held it. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She kept her gaze on the lake. ‘I’m a silly, romantic fool.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with a bit of romance.’

‘Oh, but there is! This is my punishment. I should have listened to my mum. I don’t deserve Freddie and I certainly don’t deserve to keep this baby.’

‘I may not know you very well, Elsa, but I don’t believe you deserve to have your baby taken from you, not if it’s something you don’t want to happen and I get the feeling you don’t.’

‘Some days I just want to jump in that bloody lake and let it swallow me up and then no one will ever take my baby from me. But what kind of mother would even think such a thing?’

‘A desperate one,’ Maggie said, her voice choked with emotion.

The young woman sitting on the bench next to Maggie had fallen deathly silent, in fact Maggie wasn’t even sure she was still there. Perhaps she had vanished into the ether, leaving as silently as she had arrived. Maggie’s blood ran cold at the thought and she strained her ears for the slightest sound that would reassure her of the woman’s earthly presence but she could hear nothing above the hammering of her own heart.

Maggie depended on her instincts and they were telling her something was wrong. Elsa’s appearance had been accompanied by so many conflicting messages. There was something about her voice that didn’t quite ring true and the dated perfume belonged to a different era, as did some of the things she had said. And yet despite all of this Maggie felt an immediate connection to Elsa, perhaps because they were both terrified of becoming mothers, albeit for very different reasons. Nothing added up and yet everything made sense because Elsa needed a friend and Maggie needed to help someone. More than anything, Maggie wanted to prove she wasn’t as hopeless as she would have herself believe.

‘I don’t want to let her go. I can’t.’

The voice came from nowhere and gave Maggie a start. ‘Elsa? Are you OK?’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to live with the pain of losing my baby,’ she replied, her voice wet with tears. ‘I won’t survive it.’

As Elsa shifted uneasily, Maggie placed her palm flat against the wooden slats of the bench and was grateful for the gentle vibration that confirmed Elsa’s presence had substance. But then Maggie felt that sense of connection again, a connection that travelled through the painted layers of the bench, peeling back time itself … Realising how irrational she was being, Maggie put these thoughts to one side and let her heart reach out to Elsa. ‘Then fight for your baby. Swallow your pride and tell Freddie. At least then you’ll know that you’ve done all you can. Can you still contact him? Could you phone or send him an email?’

‘A what?’

‘Could you write to him?’ she asked, refusing to acknowledge why Elsa might not know what an email was.

‘I could ask someone at Burtonwood to pass on a letter for me, I suppose,’ Elsa said. There was a spark of hope in her voice now, although she was quick to dampen it. ‘But even if he did turn up, I don’t think I’d fit on his bike any more. And I can’t help thinking he’s vanished out of my life just like the swans have disappeared from the lake.’

Maggie turned her head towards the lake as if to scan the waters she couldn’t see. ‘What swans? I don’t think there have ever been swans in Victoria Park.’

‘But I’ve seen them,’ Elsa insisted, and the spell that had been cast over the two expectant mothers began to splinter. ‘I’d better go,’ Elsa added sharply. ‘I’m going to be late for work.’

‘Don’t rush off. Please, Elsa, let me help you,’ Maggie said, reaching towards her but she wasn’t quick enough and her hand passed through thin air. Elsa was up and away, leaving only a lingering scent of lilacs and a little of her soul which the bench was intent on keeping for itself.

4

Experience had taught Maggie not to let anyone help when she was in charge of preparing a meal. Cooking wasn’t an impossible task; far from it, it was something she enjoyed doing, but there were challenges and it required her full concentration. All she had to do was keep track of what she had put where and as long as well-meaning helpers didn’t come in and move things around, she could turn out a pretty mean curry. Maggie especially loved working with spices that would release delicious aromas when crushed, ground, toasted or simply left to simmer in the pot.

Tonight, Maggie was more than happy to enforce her rules, which afforded her a little respite from more onerous duties. Judith and Ken had arrived and James had been left to play host to his parents with only Harvey as reinforcement. Jenny was predictably late but at least she had phoned to say she would be on her way very soon. Maggie had warned her that if she didn’t hurry up then she’d be around personally to drag her out of the house. Jenny lived in a large 1930s semi-detached house, similar in size and style to Maggie’s and only two streets away, so she knew the threat wasn’t an idle one.

Stirring the lamb curry, a cloud of steam billowed upwards and Maggie breathed in the spiced air. The mix was the perfect balance of earth and fire and it made her mouth water. She used a wooden spoon to scrape across the bottom of the pan and judged that the curry needed a little longer for the sauce to thicken and the vegetables to soften. A quick taste confirmed that she had the balance of flavours and seasoning just right. Everything else was ready and there was nothing left to keep her from her guests – the quick hello on their arrival wasn’t good enough and she knew it.

Maggie opened the kitchen door and stepped out of her haven. The hallway was long and wide with a solid timber floor and ceilings that reached the full height of the house above the staircase. She could hear the distant thud of heavy raindrops hitting the skylight above.

Her pensive footsteps made only the barest whisper but as she slipped past the living room door on her right, a floorboard creaked. Maggie stopped immediately and explored the floor tentatively with her socked foot. This part of the house had seen the most change since moving in and the flooring had only been laid six months ago so the boards were still settling into place. She stepped gingerly to the left until her outstretched hand brushed against another door on the opposite side which was nestled beneath the stairs and had once led to a large garage that was now divided into two separate workspaces. This door gave access to her office while the remaining space, accessible from the front of the house, was James’s workshop.

Maggie’s nerves were getting the better of her and she tried to regulate her breathing as she approached the dining room door. Her leg hit something and it clattered to the floor. Cursing herself, she scrambled around to find what had fallen over. At the same time, a series of measured creaks marked the approach of someone on the other side of the door. When it opened, she detected the scent of her husband’s aftershave.

‘I knocked an umbrella over, that’s all,’ she whispered.

‘Time for a stiff drink?’

‘If only I could,’ Maggie mumbled as she entered the room.

The dining room had been recently redecorated and as Maggie walked in she was thankful for the sense of security it gave her. This was her territory. The newly plastered walls had been painted a soft shade of green that was almost blue, complementing a feature wall which had been papered in a raised art deco pattern of silvers and greys, and the soft furnishing and accessories picked up the reflective tones of the wallpaper. Before the cloud of curry spices had a chance to overwhelm the room, Maggie could detect the scent of the rosemary- and peppermint-scented oils she had left warming to welcome her guests.

‘Ready for some help yet?’ Judith asked.

‘No, everything’s under control,’ replied Maggie, her false cheerfulness a perfect match for that of her mother-in-law.

‘Here you go, love, you’ve earned this,’ Ken said.

Maggie could hear the glug of a wine glass being filled. The bouquet of dark plum mixed with notes of oak cut through the already heavily scented air. Whether it was nerves or delayed signs of morning sickness, her stomach flipped as she took a seat at the dining table.

‘Not for me, thanks, Ken. I’ll keep to sparkling water for now.’ The pause she left was the perfect opening for the announcement but the only sound from James was the clink of glass as he poured her water. She had no choice but to continue and said, ‘I need to keep a clear head while I’m in charge of dinner.’

‘Mum was saying how Liam’s been pestering Carolyn for a dog.’

‘I wonder where that idea came from,’ Maggie said, patting her hand against her thigh and within seconds Harvey was by her side, nuzzling her hand with his wet nose as he deciphered the scent of the meal she had been preparing. A soft sneeze confirmed that he wasn’t impressed with her choice of menu.

‘So is she going to give in do you think?’ James asked his mum.

‘I hope so. A dog would be good company for her. She gets so lonely with Tony working away so much. I’m a bit worried about her if I’m being honest.’

‘They were debating different breeds when we left,’ Ken said when everyone else fell silent. Neither James nor Maggie was prepared to launch into a debate about the state of Carolyn’s marriage. ‘It was a good job we came home when we did. Given half a chance, your mum would have marched them all off to the nearest kennels to put down a deposit on the first puppy they saw.’

‘I hope they don’t get a Labrador,’ James said. ‘The boys might be less inclined to come up here otherwise.’

‘You know there’s more for them here than just Harvey,’ Maggie said, picking up immediately on the insecurity in James’s voice that he was trying hard to disguise. ‘They might love him to bits but they love you more.’

‘And let’s not forget their wicked stepmother,’ James reminded her.

Maggie’s gentle laughter helped her relax a little. Her first taste of motherhood had felt daunting at the time but in hindsight it had been nothing compared to the prospect of caring for a newborn. There had been a gradual introduction into the boys’ lives and, with her mum by her side, Maggie had embraced her new role and the challenges that came with it. ‘The one who can see through walls, you mean?’

Liam and Sam had learnt very quickly that they couldn’t get away with quite as much as they had first expected with Maggie. Her hearing could see around corners and through closed doors and occasionally she had even been able to detect the sound of wet tongues being poked at her. But that had been in the early days. Their reluctance to accept a rival for their father’s affections had been overpowered by Maggie’s winning charm, one that had four legs and a wagging tail.

‘How’s Kathy doing?’ Judith asked her, clearly not willing to dwell on her daughter-in-law’s virtues. ‘Still working at the salon until all hours? It’s high time that woman slowed down.’

‘She never will and I can’t imagine the place without her,’ Maggie said of the person who had been pivotal in getting her business up and running eight years ago. Aromatherapy had been little more than a hobby before then, and the offer to rent out an old storeroom in Kathy’s salon had been too good to turn down.

‘We all thought she was mad moving away from Nantwich and setting up in Sedgefield, of all places. Her mum was absolutely against it but Kathy was as stubborn then as she is now,’ Judith said.

‘She’s stubborn?’ asked Ken before turning to Maggie and saying, ‘I have to take cover when those two are in the same room. How they’ve remained friends for the best part of fifty years is beyond me.’

‘I’m glad they did,’ James added. ‘It’s thanks to Kathy that I found Maggie.’

Judith had taken a breath to berate her husband but James’s comment knocked the wind out of her sails. She exhaled with a sigh.

‘You’ve done a lovely job in this room,’ Ken said to break the silence that Maggie was waiting for James to fill. ‘In fact, the whole house is really coming along.’

‘Yes, it’s been a hard slog stripping everything back. This room must have had about six layers of wallpaper underneath,’ James explained. ‘But the end result is all down to Maggie.’

‘Oh, James, you always did hate taking credit for anything. He was exactly the same when he was little,’ Judith said.

When Maggie spoke, her tone was that of a frustrated schoolmistress who was tired of repeating herself yet still managed to keep up a façade of good humour. ‘I chose rosemary and peppermint for the theme because they both have properties that help with digestion, perfect for a dining room, and of course the blue-green of the peppermint complements the silvery rosemary leaves. I may not be able to see colours any more, but I can still visualise them with my sense of smell. My mum taught me the basics and training for my accreditation as an aromatherapist brought even more depth to that visualisation,’ Maggie said, using the opportunity to remind Judith that she was a skilled professional. ‘Every room has been carefully thought through and my next project will be the third bedroom.’

Maggie turned towards James in grim expectation.

‘It’s a fair-size room,’ Ken said, ‘not one of those boxy third bedrooms by anyone’s standards, but the boys will still fight over who keeps the bigger one.’

James didn’t answer immediately and the sense of anticipation was tortuous. Maggie had to bite her tongue to stop herself from jumping in. As he cleared his throat, his discomfort was obvious and contradicted all his previous assurances that his parents would take the news well.

‘Actually,’ James paused, ‘it’s going to be a nursery. We’re going to have a baby. Maggie is due at the end of October.’

Maggie couldn’t see Judith’s jaw drop but she imagined it had just hit the table. She looked in her direction and dared her to speak her mind.

‘Son, that’s fantast—’ Ken began but the first spark of delight was brutally snuffed out by his wife, whose reaction was true to form.

‘Oh, James, what were you thinking?’

‘What do you mean?’ James’s question had an edge to it.

‘Have you really thought this through? What about your plans for the future?’

‘This is my future, Mum.’

Judith was only momentarily silenced. ‘I know you’re coping now but wouldn’t a baby be taking on too much? I was worried about how you would manage to keep your business going once you and Maggie moved in together but credit to you, in fact credit to you both, you’ve proved me wrong but, son … seriously? How are you going to manage looking after a baby too?’

Maggie remained silent as Judith blustered on.

‘I’m going to help, of course I will,’ James said. ‘But Maggie is perfectly capable of caring for the baby, just like she’s perfectly capable of caring for herself and her husband.’ He reached over to take Maggie’s hand and, as the tips of her fingers brushed against his wrist, she could feel his pulse racing.

Despite wrestling with her own doubts, Maggie refused to let it show. ‘There will be changes and there will be challenges,’ she said. ‘But we’ll overcome them and we’ll be the best parents we possibly can.’

‘But—’ The single word came out like a torpedo, a warning shot for the tirade that would follow but in a rare display of assertiveness, Ken disarmed his wife.

‘We’re both surprised by the news, that’s all. Congratulations, both of you. You can count on us for our support.’

‘I’m glad you said that, Dad,’ James jumped in. ‘Maggie wants to carry on working, don’t you?’

Maggie was stunned and could only nod as she realised where the conversation was leading. When they had first talked about starting a family, the plan had been for Joan to help with childcare so Maggie could return to work and she had wanted to return quickly. There was no one qualified to cover her absence at the salon and she risked losing clients if she stayed away too long. She only worked two or three hours a day and her mum had been more than willing to help but those plans had been made an impossibly long time ago. Everything had changed since then and she had assumed James would have realised that. He continued:

‘So how do you feel about being a little more hands-on with your next grandchild?’

There was a sharp intake of breath from Judith and deservedly so. Judith was fifty-eight and, unlike Kathy, was already planning her retirement. She had cut back her hours as a volunteer at a charity shop and intended to give up work entirely when Ken retired from his job as an architect the following year. Taking care of a baby wasn’t part of her plan and Maggie could sympathise: the idea horrified her too. Thankfully, Judith was rescued from the need to answer by a knock at the door. Jenny had arrived.

Inviting Jenny had been a stroke of genius. Not only was she a much-needed ally but she could talk to anyone about anything and she kept the conversation flowing over the awkward pauses during dinner.

Maggie had met her when they were both fifteen. Jenny’s family had been new to Sedgefield and the arrival of a quiet, surly teenager at school had been a blessing in disguise. Maggie had been managing reasonably well in a mainstream school but once surging hormones had entered the mix, her peers had begun to develop at a faster pace and slowly but surely Maggie had become marginalised. The two girls formed an alliance that gave each of them the courage to face the world and eventually Jenny’s true personality had emerged and she hadn’t shut up since.

‘So, Maggie,’ she said. ‘When are you going to tell us all about this ghost of yours?’

‘We have a ghost?’ James asked.

‘No, we do not have a ghost,’ Maggie said through gritted teeth, regretting having said anything to Jenny about her encounter by the lake earlier that day, when she was still trying to make sense of it herself. But despite her denial, Maggie couldn’t easily dismiss the idea that Elsa belonged to the past more than the present. It was, after all, where Maggie often retreated and would it be so terrible to believe that her favourite park bench held the power to resurrect the people who had once rested upon it?

Jenny had homed in on the supernatural aspects of Maggie’s story and even though Maggie had told her very little about Elsa, and nothing at all about the secrets she had sworn to keep, her friend’s curiosity had been piqued. But Maggie wasn’t going to be drawn into the conversation at the dinner table. ‘I met another mum-to-be in the park and she was a little eccentric, that’s all. So how’s the job going, Jenny?’

Realising her mistake, Jenny didn’t object to the swift change of subject. ‘I thought I would hate going back to work but it’s so nice having conversations that don’t revolve around a baby’s sleeping, eating and toilet habits.’

‘And if there’s one thing you can count on when you visit Jenny at the bank, it’s conversation,’ offered James.

‘I like to spend time getting to know my customers, that’s all. And I’ll have you know, that kind of personal service is a dying art.’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if they made it bank policy,’ Maggie added with a mischievous smile. ‘I think all staff should be able to update customers on which celeb is sleeping with who, what’s going on in all the TV soaps, not to mention advice on the latest high street fashions.’

‘I keep you on trend, don’t I?’

‘Yes, you do,’ Maggie conceded. Jenny was her official stylist while Kathy could be relied on to keep her beauty regime up to date. When she had first met James, it was thanks to their help that she had looked more like the young woman she was and not the old spinster she thought she was destined to become.

‘And I’ll have you know that I provide a community service, advising on the opening times at the health centre or where to buy the best bargains. I’m like a living, breathing bulletin board and people choose me to serve them. And before you two come out with any more smart remarks, my manager has finally recognised my talents and has told me to apply for the assistant manager’s job that’s coming up later this year.’

James paid no heed to Jenny’s warning. ‘If anyone can talk themselves into a promotion, it’s you.’

Judith and Ken were in danger of being completely sidelined as the banter continued. Maggie had one ear to the conversation and the other to the uncomfortable silence that wrapped around her in-laws as they drank their post-dinner coffee in awkward gulps. ‘Would you like another one?’ she asked when she heard Judith replace an empty cup onto its saucer.

‘Not for me, thanks.’

‘Care for something a bit stronger, Dad?’

‘I wouldn’t say no, son.’

‘Can I get you ladies anything?’ James asked and was met with a flurry of polite refusals. ‘It’s just you and me then, Dad.’

‘I suppose that means I’m driving,’ Judith commented.

‘Thanks, love.’

‘But don’t blame me if I crash into that gate. It came off its hinges again the other day, like it does every time your dad tries to fix it.’

‘Do you want me to take a look?’ James asked.

‘Oh, we’ll manage. I might even have a go at mending it myself.’ The refusal was half-hearted and when James insisted on coming over to fix it, Judith had her way, as she knew she would.

Chairs scraped against the floor as James and Ken made their excuses and scurried off to the kitchen, followed soon after by Harvey who didn’t need an invitation to go into his favourite room in the house.

‘So,’ Jenny announced, ‘let’s talk babies.’

Jenny had realised within moments of her arrival that the announcement had been made and the news received as badly as Maggie had feared. But that hadn’t stopped her best friend from bringing babies into the conversation at every possible opportunity. There was a distinct possibility that Jenny wouldn’t let Judith leave the house until she was gushing with enthusiasm.

‘Lily is such a pretty thing,’ Judith said, referring to the myriad of photos of Jenny’s six-month-old daughter that had been thrust under her nose throughout the evening.

‘I’ll try to remember that when she’s bawling at three o’clock in the morning.’

‘I don’t think anyone appreciates how much a baby can turn your life upside down until you have one. But you’re lucky you can leave her with Mark. Ken never was one for babysitting.’

‘Babysitting?’ Jenny demanded. ‘He’s her dad and we’re equal partners. He might need reminding of that now and again but that’s the deal. Wouldn’t you say so, Maggie?’

‘We’ll see.’

‘I’m so excited that Maggie and I are going to be mums together, Judith. It wasn’t that long ago when I thought it would never happen and I think Maggie probably thought the same. I couldn’t get pregnant and she thought she’d never find Mr Right but now look at us!’

‘Yes, James was a very good catch,’ Judith said.

Jenny kept her tone light as she responded to the cutting remark that sliced through the air. ‘And Maggie’s a bit of a catch too. Just look at those high cheekbones and that gorgeous body,’ she said, turning to her friend whose high cheekbones were starting to glow with embarrassment. ‘I’d give anything for a figure like yours, even now you’re three months gone. You don’t look pregnant at all.’

‘I certainly never would have guessed,’ Judith added, her reply measured and meaningful.

Jenny wouldn’t be put off. ‘I’m hoping she has a girl so she inherits Maggie’s looks. What about you, Judith? Wouldn’t it be nice to have a granddaughter for a change?’

‘I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.’

‘I expect it’s still a bit of a shock,’ Jenny said, a sting of accusation in her observation.

Judith sighed as if the weight of the world had been placed on her shoulders. ‘I still don’t know what they were thinking, Jenny.’

Maggie’s jaw clenched as she reeled in her emotions. There was frustrated disbelief that her mother-in-law was talking as if she wasn’t even in the room; there was anger that Judith wasn’t willing to give her a chance to prove herself as a parent; and then there was the ever-present fear for a future Maggie felt she no longer had control over.

‘Maybe they were thinking it would be nice to start a family?’

For a moment, all that Maggie could hear was the hammering of her heart then, without warning, music started blaring from beneath the table. Jenny muttered under her breath as she dug out her mobile from her bag. ‘It’ll be Mark. I can’t have one night off without some emergency or other. Sorry, Maggie, I’d better take this.’

Jenny slipped out into the hall and left the two women alone. Judith’s chair creaked softly as she was forced to turn and acknowledge her daughter-in-law’s presence again. ‘Have you seriously thought this through, Maggie?’ she asked. ‘How are you going to manage? We could help but we’re not getting any younger.’

Maggie would have been amused at the forced frailty in Judith’s voice if she hadn’t been quietly fuming. ‘I agree. I don’t know what James was thinking by asking you. I do want to go back to work but I can use the same nursery as Jenny. You really don’t have to worry on that count.’

‘But I do worry. How will you be able to afford it, especially if James is forced to cut back his hours too? It’s bound to affect his ability to provide for his family – and by that I mean the boys. I know it sounds harsh but I don’t see how this is going to work. I just don’t see it.’

‘And I thought I was the blind one,’ Maggie said. ‘My mum brought me up to believe that there’s nothing I can’t do if I put my mind to it. OK, so maybe I can’t drive a car and never will but I can still get myself from A to B.’

‘I agree. There are things you do that genuinely amaze me. The meal you made, the way you explained how you helped James decorate this room—’ Judith began.

‘Then give me a chance. These aren’t tricks I’m performing; this is the way I live my life.’

High heels tapped across wood as Jenny made her return. ‘Lily’s teething and Mark can’t settle her. Not surprising really given that he’s not home enough these days for her to recognise him. I’m so, so sorry, Maggie, but I have to go. I’ll say goodbye to the boys and send them back in to you,’ she said.

There were anxious hugs and a promise from Maggie to make up some teething gel once she was back in the salon on Monday and then Jenny was gone.

Judith sighed and, hearing James and Ken coming back down the hallway, couldn’t resist one parting shot. ‘If Jenny finds it hard going, how will you cope?’

It was the first statement from her mother-in-law that Maggie couldn’t argue against and in a desperate attempt to hold on to her crumbling confidence, she tried to recall the steady rhythm of her baby’s heartbeat. But it was the sound of waves slapping against the edge of the lake that filled her mind and she felt herself drowning in self-doubt.

5

On Monday morning, between her steady stream of clients, Maggie caught up with other chores. Occasionally she picked up the telephone but didn’t dial. She wanted to phone her dad and at least capture some of the joy being denied her, but now was not the time to tell him she was pregnant. Stan had struggled through the first year without his wife but by all accounts he was slowly adapting to his new way of life in Spain. If Maggie was ever going to convince him that she could manage without him then she would have to at least sound stronger than she felt right now.

Maggie inhaled the scent of clove bud as she prepared a gentle ointment to ease Lily’s teething pain. The essential oil’s stimulating properties weren’t enough to give her the courage she needed to step out of her treatment room but she left anyway.

‘You’ve had a busy morning,’ Kathy remarked. ‘I was starting to think you were avoiding me.’

Kathy had a perceptive eye that was an equal match for Maggie’s ability to read a person’s face by the tone of their voice. They each had their own ways of recognising a lie when they heard it so Maggie didn’t try. ‘I know she’s your friend, Kath, but—’

‘It’s all right, I know. I’ve spoken to Judith and she’s worked herself up into a right state. And I’m afraid I haven’t helped.’ Kathy sighed. ‘I let slip that I’d known for a while about the baby.’

‘Surely she can’t be surprised that I didn’t want to tell her? Her reaction was always going to be awful.’

‘And was it?’

This was exactly the line of questioning Maggie had wanted to avoid. So far she’d kept Judith’s most cutting remarks to herself, not wanting to put James in an awkward position, and it was the same with Kathy. ‘Why are you two such good friends again?’ she asked now.

‘Having an old grouch around makes me feel younger.’

Maggie returned the smile she had heard in Kathy’s voice. ‘And I always thought it was owning a beauty parlour that guaranteed you eternal youth,’ she said, although Kathy had a point. The two might be the same age but that was where the similarities ended. Whereas Judith was already changing down a gear, Kathy had no intention of growing old gracefully. Her hair was cut in a modern style, short and spiky to accentuate her fine bone structure and she described the colour as platinum blonde although it felt coarse enough to be completely grey without the helping hand of peroxide. As a regular to Maggie’s massage table, Maggie knew that Kathy hadn’t completely avoided the signs of aging, but although there were the odd wrinkles here and there, her skin was smooth and retained enough elasticity to keep her looks as youthful as her outlook.

‘Please don’t go losing sleep over Judith. She’s only panicking because she wants what’s best for James. And you,’ Kathy added but not quickly enough.

Maggie shrugged. ‘You were right first time. Sorry, Kath, but I have to go. I promised to meet Jenny at the bank,’ she said and made her escape before her resolve to keep quiet weakened even further.

Slipping on her sunglasses to block out the muted sunshine trickling across her vision, Maggie and Harvey headed in the direction of the bank, but no sooner had they set off than they came to a sudden halt.

‘Hi, I’m here,’ Jenny announced. She sounded out of breath as if she had been running. ‘The nursery phoned and they’re desperate for this miracle cure you promised me.’

‘How is Lily?’ Maggie asked as she handed it over. They turned together and continued along the route to the nursery, which was the same direction as the park where Maggie was heading next.

‘Red-faced and grumpy.’

‘And you?’

‘The same,’ Jenny quipped.

‘I’ve been worried,’ Maggie confessed. ‘I know you were annoyed with Mark for dragging you away last night but it sounded like there was more to it than that. What’s going on?’

‘Oh, something and nothing.’

They had reached the entrance to the park and came to a stop. ‘And the truth?’ Maggie said not willing to accept the prevarication.

Jenny sucked air through clenched teeth as she tried to hold back her feelings. It didn’t work. ‘Mark’s been working all the hours God sends and I know it’s tough for estate agents right now but he doesn’t seem to recognise how hard it is for me too. I’ve only been back at work a few weeks but I seem to be the one who’s expected to juggle everything: the baby, the job, and the house. Look at me now, rushing over to the nursery to look after our daughter on my so-called lunch break. It’s bloody hard, Maggie.’

Jenny’s breath caught in her throat but it was Maggie who gasped back the sob. The seed of doubt planted by Judith had burst through to the surface and was tearing up the foundations of the life Maggie’s mum had spent decades building for her daughter.

‘Maggie? What’s wrong?’ Jenny grasped both of Maggie’s hands in her own.

‘If you can’t cope then what hope do I have, Jen?’ she said in the barest whisper.

Jenny squeezed Maggie’s hands. ‘Don’t pay any attention to me, all I need is a bit of “me” time. What’s happened, Maggie? It’s bloody Judith, isn’t it?’

‘Yes … no … I don’t know. She thinks I’m deliberately setting out to destroy James’s life and I’m starting to think that’s exactly what I’ll end up doing. So much is going to change and it scares me. I want to have it all, Jenny. The baby, the job, the house,’ she said, making a feeble joke of Jenny’s earlier complaint, ‘but how can I? It’s not just about finding the time for everything; even the finances don’t stack up. If I went back to work then I’d have to put the baby in a nursery but I doubt I’d earn enough to cover the fees. That’s why James wanted Judith to help look after the baby. Thank God she doesn’t want to. Am I being selfish?’

‘You’re feeling overwhelmed, that’s all, but why make it harder than it needs to be? If I had the choice, I’d give up work like a shot and it might give you the time you need to settle into motherhood.’

Maggie’s heart sank. It wasn’t the answer she had wanted to hear. She wasn’t ready to give up the business she had worked so hard for.

‘But,’ Jenny continued, ‘if you’re insisting on being superwoman, so what if you can’t cover the nursery fees? Make James work twice as hard to make up the difference. It’s the least he can do for letting Judith upset you.’

Maggie wanted to smile but despite Jenny’s faith, her superhuman powers failed her. ‘James is blissfully unaware. All he remembers of Saturday night is demolishing a bottle of single malt in the kitchen with his dad to wet the baby’s head.’

‘He knows. Maybe he didn’t hear everything Judith said about the baby but he couldn’t ignore the constant references she made to Carolyn.’

‘Comparisons, you mean. I think she’s still waiting for the day when Carolyn realises she’s made a terrible mistake and begs James to take her back. But in answer to your question, yes he can ignore that too. Given the choice, James is more than happy to stick his head in the sand,’ Maggie said but then regretted her harsh assessment of her husband. ‘But that’s only because he’s such a gentle soul and that’s why I love him so much.’

‘Gentle soul or not, he won’t appreciate his wife pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. Talk to him.’

‘I don’t want to be the cause of a family rift, not after everything James has been through already.’

‘You wouldn’t be the cause of a rift, Judith would. Tell him.’

‘OK,’ Maggie said with no intention of doing so. ‘But only on the condition that you talk to Mark about how you’re feeling overwhelmed too.’

‘OK,’ Jenny said, sounding even less convincing than Maggie. ‘And we’ll make some time for us too. How about we hit the town and go clubbing?’

Maggie couldn’t help laughing even though she suspected Jenny wasn’t joking. ‘Or how about a yoga class?’ she countered, recalling the nights out with Jenny in Chester where she had spent most of her time apologising for standing on people’s toes on the dance floor.

Jenny relaxed now there was a smile on Maggie’s face and said, ‘Yes, I suppose we are meant to be sensible, married women these days. Now, I really am sorry, Maggie, but I have to get this to the nursery. Are you going to be all right?’

Maggie assured Jenny that she was and could almost believe it herself. As she and Harvey switched to autopilot and stepped into the park, she reminded herself of all the people in her life, willing her to succeed. Did it really matter that Judith wasn’t going to be one of them? She had good friends and a loving husband, not to mention an amazing midwife who was already putting together a support network that would give her all the necessary skills to take on motherhood.

It was only when she paused at the top of the slope leading down to the lake that Maggie’s fragile confidence began to disintegrate again. She turned her face towards the park bench as if she could see its wrought iron frame and achingly empty seats. Her mum was meant to be there, to share her daughter’s joy at fulfilling her lifelong ambition to be a mother and to help her prepare for her baby’s arrival. She was meant to be there to silence her doubters. But her mum wasn’t there and Maggie felt her absence more keenly than ever before.

Her legs had turned to lead as she made her way down towards the bench but each juddering step felt like a body blow. Her heart thudded against her chest, which had an invisible weight pressing against it. Gulping air desperately into her lungs, Maggie began to feel light-headed. Tears stung her eyes but couldn’t blur the image of the empty park bench she held in her mind. Why had she ever thought she could do this? She couldn’t stand up to Judith and, more importantly, she couldn’t look after a baby. Not on her own. She couldn’t do it.

Overwhelmed by a growing sense of panic, Maggie ignored the uplifting scents of spring flowers around her and she was too engrossed in the rhythmic sound of water slapping against the slipway to pick up the scent of lilac perfume. Her pace raced alongside her pulse as she drew closer to the lake. She was ready to give herself up to the dark and silent abyss and would have done so if Harvey hadn’t been so determined to guide her towards the safety of the bench. Maggie wasn’t sure if it was the realisation of what she had been about to do or the sound of a woman’s voice that brought her to her senses.

‘Are you all right?’ Elsa asked.

Elsa couldn’t for the life of her remember how she came to be sitting on the park bench. The twisted branches of the giant rhododendron bushes growing up the embankment made her feel like she had been caught up in a huge spider’s web but it was her mind that was full of tangles.

Smoothing over the creases of her dress and resting her hand on her stomach, Elsa watched a woman stumbling down the sloping path with her dog. For a moment, she thought she would march straight into the lake and Elsa’s heart jumped into her mouth.

‘Are you all right?’ she called.

The woman’s breathing was ragged as she approached the bench. ‘Elsa?’

‘Have we met before?’ Elsa asked when the dog greeted her like an old friend.

‘Yes, the other day.’ The woman took a seat next to her and put her hand on her chest in an effort to steady her breathing. It took a moment or two before she could speak again and even then her voice trembled. ‘I’m Maggie and this is Harvey. Remember?’

Elsa placed the palm of a hand on the surface of the bench and a memory seeped out from its painted surface and into her mind. This was where she had shared her secret. ‘You’re pregnant too, aren’t you? Is that why you’re so upset?’

Maggie tried to give her a winning smile but it crumpled with the effort. ‘I’m upset because I miss my mum. We used to sit here together.’

The vision of a child being separated from its mother struck a chord in Elsa’s heart. ‘Do you think my little one will cry for me?’ she asked.

‘Are you still thinking of giving the baby up?’

‘I think of nothing else.’

Maggie took a deep breath and, as she focused her attention on Elsa, she brought her tremors under control. ‘I have to admit, I’ve been thinking a lot about you since you disappeared last time. I’ve been worried about you.’

‘I’ll survive,’ Elsa said as if that wasn’t a good thing but she was comforted by the idea that Maggie had been concerned about her. She could do with a friendly ear. She had done something reckless, even by her standards, and if her hopes held out then she was going to upset a lot of people.

‘You sound tired,’ her friend said.

Elsa looked at her hands; they had been completely destroyed by hard graft. ‘I’m on my feet all day at Flo’s Fruit and Veg. I think every bone in my body aches.’

‘Flo’s Fruit and Veg? I’ve never heard of it.’

‘It’s on the High Street. Don’t tell me you go to Mr Flanagan’s? Aunt Flo’s fruit is much fresher. Cheaper too.’

‘Aunt Flo,’ Maggie repeated as if she was struggling to follow what Elsa was telling her. ‘She’s the woman you’re staying with, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, and she’s a bit of a hard taskmaster but why have a dog and bark yourself, isn’t that right, Harvey?’ Elsa rubbed the dog’s neck until he groaned with pleasure.

‘I hope she’s not pushing you too hard. You need to take care of yourself.’

‘She’s not that bad really. I was a complete stranger when she took me in but now she treats me like family. She has a will of iron sometimes but soft as a brush the next. She’s going to hit the roof when she finds out I’ve written to Freddie.’

‘You’ve written to him?’

Elsa had her sister to thank for that. Celia had given birth to a bonnie little girl and Elsa had rushed over to Manchester to see them and, more importantly, to be there when her mum arrived to inspect her latest grandchild. Elsa was five and half months pregnant and had to bind herself up so the bulge didn’t show but her weight gain had been the first thing her mum had noticed.

‘You’ll never get a husband if you let yourself go,’ she had warned.

Celia had leapt to her defence, fearful that Elsa might break down and confess all. ‘I’ll make sure she does. We both need to get in shape.’

Her mum continued to scrutinise her younger daughter. ‘Still, you’ve got those lovely eyes and such beautiful hair. Don’t go cutting it short like your sister here. I don’t understand why girls want to look so much like boys these days.’

‘I won’t, Mum,’ Elsa said as she tried to staunch her tears. ‘I would never let you down, you know that.’

‘Being around Celia and the children has clearly been a good influence. I don’t see that wild streak of yours any more,’ her mum said with a note of approval. Her face softened. ‘You’re a good girl, Elsa, I know that.’ It was then that her mum had put a loving hand on Elsa’s cheek and it was a wonder she hadn’t noticed her daughter’s body trembling with the effort to keep her emotions in check. If anything was going to push her over the edge then it was that simple touch of her mum’s hand.

But it wasn’t her mum’s touch that had made Elsa go against the plans that had been laid for her but the defenceless newborn she had held in her arms. ‘How can I hand something so precious over to someone else?’ she had asked Celia. ‘How can you make me?’

‘You can barely look after yourself, Elsa. You’ve still got a lot of growing up to do,’ Celia had said, repeating old arguments.

‘I’m old enough to feel a mother’s love – and I swear I’m going to love this baby growing inside me until my dying day.’ She was holding on desperately to her sister’s baby now and refused to let Celia take her from her. There was a look of horror on Celia’s face as she was forced to imagine it was Elsa’s baby being wrenched from its mother’s arms. ‘Please, Celia,’ Elsa had whimpered. ‘Please, I’m begging you.’

What else could Celia do but promise to help?

‘I’ve written the letter and left it with my sister Celia,’ Elsa explained to Maggie. ‘She’s contacting the friends I know at the base and by hook or by crook, that letter will find its way to Freddie.’

‘What did you tell him?’

‘Everything. I’ve told him everything,’ Elsa said, the rasp in her voice laced with emotion. ‘And if he doesn’t reply now then I’ll know there’s nothing left for me to live for.’

‘Please don’t say that. I know how daunting it must seem but don’t give up. Believe me, I know how easy it is to convince yourself you can’t do it because that’s what everyone’s telling you, but you have to believe in yourself, Elsa. We both do.’

‘I have to face facts. I can’t work and look after a baby at the same time. I can’t provide for both of us.’ As Elsa spoke, a cold breeze bit into the nape of her neck. She raised a hand to the back of her head for protection and her fingers touched cropped locks. She was such a disappointment to her parents.

‘I really hope your hero comes back on that motorbike of his.’

‘And if he doesn’t? The thought of handing my baby over to someone else … It’s breaking my heart already.’ Elsa cast her gaze over the lake. The day was bright but the spring sun was not yet warm enough to chase away a lingering mist that covered it like a shroud. She imagined the water would be deathly cold. ‘I can’t see the swans.’

Maggie turned her head as if to follow Elsa’s gaze. ‘No, there are no swans,’ she said hesitantly.

‘Would it be so bad if the lake swallowed me up and I spent the rest of eternity with my baby?’

‘That isn’t the answer,’ Maggie said, turning away from the lake. ‘Listen to me, Elsa. You can’t think like that. You’ve got to stay strong. I just wish there was more I could do for you.’

Rummaging in her bag, Maggie pulled out a small card and handed it over to Elsa. It had pretty swirls of colour printed on it and a delicate script.

‘What is it?’

‘My business card, but don’t get me wrong, I’m not touting for work,’ Maggie added quickly.

Elsa squinted at the print. Reading was never her strong point and she couldn’t quite work out the letters. ‘Aroma …’

‘Aromatherapy. That’s what I do. I could give you a complementary treatment if you like, something to ease your aching joints. But call in anyway, even if it’s just for a chat. I’m not always there but the opening times are printed on the back and it has my mobile number too. If ever you feel like there’s nowhere else to turn, turn to me. Please, Elsa.’

The numbers and symbols on the card were indecipherable but Elsa understood the sentiment perfectly. ‘Thank you. You really are so very kind.’

‘I’m not being completely selfless in all of this. If I can persuade you to believe in yourself, then maybe I’ll start believing in myself again, too.’

Maggie’s words of kindness were too much for Elsa and it didn’t help that Harvey was staring at her so intently. The look of sadness in his eyes took the last remnants of her self-control and Elsa reached out to grasp Maggie’s hand. For a fleeting moment, they held on to each other but then Maggie recoiled from her touch. The look of horror on her face was unmistakeable.

‘I’m a monster, I know I am!’ Elsa cried. ‘If I’m the kind of person who can give up her baby without a fight then I don’t deserve Freddie and I don’t deserve to be happy.’ Her whole body began to shake as the weight of her guilt pushed the air out of her lungs. ‘I can’t stand this any more.’

Elsa stood up so quickly that she frightened a family of nearby ducks. The world around her erupted into chaos and above the angry quacks, the flapping of wings, and the furious splashing of water, Elsa barely heard Maggie’s desperate pleas as she stepped closer to the water’s edge.

6

The splashing was thunderous but didn’t quite drown out the more frightening sound of Elsa’s wracked sobs. Maggie rushed towards the noise, not hesitating at the water’s edge or stopping when the cold water rose up over her ankles and then her knees. Once she was waist deep, she used her arms to propel herself forward, all the while calling out to Elsa. For a moment, Maggie grabbed hold of what she thought was Elsa’s hand but it was deathly cold and the skin papery thin. She cried out, imagining it was the hand of a long-forgotten corpse trying to pull two young women towards a watery grave. Maggie staggered backwards but lost her footing on the slimy floor. She managed to call out to Elsa one last time before the lake swallowed her up as surely as it had her friend. All was lost and the silence coiled itself around her body and pulled her down towards the abyss. Maggie didn’t fight it, not until she heard the urgent heartbeat of her unborn child.

‘No!’ she screamed, and her arms began to flail in a bid to escape the water that had taken the form of a cotton sheet.

Muscular arms wrapped tightly around her. ‘Shush, shush, it’s all right, Maggie,’ James whispered into her ear and his gentle rocking eased her slowly from the nightmare.

When Maggie was able to speak, all she said was, ‘Sorry.’ She didn’t need to explain further. She’d had the dream half a dozen times already. Her night terrors were forcing her to relive that heart-stopping moment in the park when she had thought Elsa was going to throw herself in the lake. She hadn’t, but her latest encounter with Elsa had left Maggie even more unsettled than the first. Her instincts told her that all was not as it seemed. Elsa had been talking about shops that didn’t exist, not in modern-day Sedgefield at least, but while Maggie’s mind focused on the contradictions, her heart clung to the similarities. They were kindred spirits.

James kissed Maggie softly. ‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m always going to be here to save you.’

Maggie squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears. She felt blessed to have James in her life but she also felt guilty. Who would save Elsa?

‘I’m going to have to insist you have a smile on your face before you come into this salon, Maggie Carter,’ scolded Kathy. ‘You’ll frighten away the customers with that scowl.’ As Maggie drew closer to the reception desk she added, ‘And I should also insist that you’re dry. Have you been wandering through that park in the teeming rain?’

Maggie’s visits to the park had become more of a daily pilgrimage in the last three weeks but once again her hopes of crossing paths with Elsa had been dashed. She forced a smile. ‘Morning, Kathy.’

‘That smile reminds me of the one I had fixed on my face all weekend.’

‘That doesn’t sound good.’ The smile on Maggie’s face, false or otherwise, faltered as her mind raced ahead to the possible cause. ‘You were going home, weren’t you?’

Kathy had moved to Sedgefield in the late seventies but Nantwich would always be her home town. ‘To see my mum, yes, and before you ask, no, I didn’t see Judith. I’m keeping a safe distance until she comes to her senses otherwise I may not be responsible for my actions. She has a habit of speaking before she thinks and I have a habit of acting before I think. Not a good combination.’

‘I don’t want you two falling out over me,’ Maggie warned, ‘but we have to accept that she’s not likely to come to her senses any time soon. The news about the baby might have come out of the blue but she reached the conclusion that James was throwing his life away by marrying me a long time ago.’

‘Which I take as a personal insult since I was the one who brought you two together. Maybe I should have a word.’

Maggie shook her head. ‘James was over there the other day and he says they’re slowly getting used to the idea. I doubt that’s true but it’s what he wants to believe and I’d rather leave it at that for now. But enough about me, tell me about your troubles.’

‘Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle. Mum has me running round in circles, that’s all,’ Kathy said with an uncharacteristic sigh of resignation. ‘She’s not getting any younger and whether she likes it or not, she needs more support. But my mum can be quite single-minded when she wants to be.’

‘I wondered where you got it from,’ Maggie said. ‘You’ll have to bring her over to the salon some time, I’d love to meet her.’

‘Getting her to Sedgefield is part of the problem. I’ve suggested she move in with me and Joe but she’s refusing point blank to leave her friends,’ Kathy complained before adding, quickly, ‘We haven’t all been blessed with mums that were as easy-going as Joan. But we’ll find a compromise somehow. If Mum won’t move here then I’ll simply have to convince Joe that it’s time for us to downsize. We could always look for somewhere with a granny flat nearer Nantwich.’

‘I know how much you love that house of yours but maybe it’s for the best,’ Maggie offered, recognising that moving house wasn’t going to be as easy as Kathy made it sound. She lived on the outskirts of Sedgefield in the kind of house that was big enough to be split into apartments and had been a nurses’ home before Kathy took over the place. It was half-empty now that the kids had grown up and moved away but despite being careworn and high maintenance, was much loved and it would be a wrench for Kathy and her husband to leave it.

Maggie and Kathy’s soul-searching was drawn to a swift conclusion by the tinkle of the bell above the salon door as someone came in. Harvey, who had been sitting patiently next to Maggie, stood up and sniffed. He took in a lungful of hairspray-tainted air and quickly snorted it out before sitting back down. Maggie surmised that the person wasn’t someone he, and therefore she, knew particularly well. She stepped to one side as the stranger approached.

‘Afternoon, ladies,’ the man said. ‘Could you sign here for me please?’

A package had been placed on the counter and Kathy signed for the delivery. In a moment, the courier had disappeared but he had been enough of an interruption to remind the two women that they had work to do.

‘I suppose I’d better start setting up for my afternoon appointments. I’ve got two new clients today and the first is due any minute now,’ Maggie said. She had flipped up the cover on her tactile wristwatch and was horrified to discover how short of time she was. It wasn’t only meandering through the park that had made her late; she had lingered too long at home too. She and James had spent the weekend clearing out the spare room and that morning had been her first opportunity to get a feel for the place so she could start planning the theme for the nursery. Preparing for the future was still frightening, but she could either sink or swim and thanks to her recurring nightmare she had already chosen which.

‘Make sure you dry off first and I’ll let you know when Mrs Smith arrives.’

There was an inflection in Kathy’s tone and Maggie latched onto it. ‘Did you take the booking? Do you know anything about Mrs Smith? Is she pregnant by any chance?’

‘What is it about this Elsa woman that has you so obsessed?’

‘I’m not obsessed, I’m just concerned.’

Before Kathy could interrogate her further, the door jangled again. Harvey stood up and began to wag his tail furiously but it was the aroma of chamomile and cloves that gave away the identity of the salon’s latest arrival.

‘I didn’t expect to see you here on your day off. Is it a social call or have you chipped a fingernail?’ asked Maggie.

‘Neither,’ Jenny replied.

Maggie waited for her to explain further but Jenny was being reticent for a change. ‘Don’t tell me Mark’s getting his hair done,’ Maggie asked as she turned her attention to the person she heard soothing a grumbling Lily.

‘There’s no way I’m handing over my gorgeous husband to one of these vixens. No offence, Kathy.’

‘None taken,’ Kathy replied. ‘In fact, I think my girls would take it as a compliment.’

Mark cleared his throat to get their attention. ‘Actually, I’m on babysitting duties this afternoon.’

The growled response from Jenny was no doubt as he intended. ‘It’s not called babysitting when it’s your own daughter.’

‘You should be grateful he’s willing to help you out at all,’ interjected Kathy.

‘This joke is wearing very thin,’ Jenny warned.

‘Who was joking?’

‘Will you two stop teasing her,’ Maggie said before Jenny started hyperventilating. ‘Now is someone going to tell me what’s going on? If you’re here to see me then I’m afraid I can’t hang around. I need to get ready for Mrs Smith …’ Her voice trailed off as she finally recognised the deceit. ‘You’re Mrs Smith?’

‘I’m being treated to a day of pampering by my darling husband and that includes a relaxing massage.’

Maggie folded her arms and gave them a stern look. ‘So why go to the trouble of booking an appointment under a false name – and a pretty unimaginative one at that.’

‘I picked that,’ Kathy added curtly.

‘Did you know?’ Maggie asked, redirecting her glare at Kathy.

‘Jenny wanted you to treat her like any other client – or should I say, charge her like any other client. If it was left to you to manage your own business affairs, you’d have gone bankrupt in the first month.’

‘I’m not so busy or desperate that I can’t help out a friend now and again.’

‘Except half of your clients would end up being treated like friends if you had your way,’ Kathy insisted.

Maggie raised a hand in submission. In her own mind, she offered a therapeutic service to people in need which often made it difficult to see them simply as clients and it was undoubtedly Kathy’s business acumen that kept Maggie’s accounts in the black. What had started out as a simple agreement to provide space and reception services for Maggie’s business had quickly developed into Kathy becoming a not-so-silent partner. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in arguing?’

‘None,’ Jenny and Kathy said in unison. ‘Besides, it’s Mark’s treat.’

‘And it’s my pleasure. I don’t know how she manages to take care of us all but even with her boundless energy, she needs to recharge her batteries now and again.’

‘You work hard too,’ Jenny reminded him.

‘Ah, but I couldn’t do what you do. I’m only a man, not good at multitasking like you ladies.’

Maggie sensed Kathy preparing to stick her fingers down her throat so she jumped in to divert the conversation. ‘Mark, do you ever remember seeing any swans in Victoria Park?’ she asked. He was the only one of the group who had lived in Sedgefield all of his life.

‘No, I can’t say I have.’

Undeterred, Maggie tried another tack. ‘Ever heard of a shop in Sedgefield called Flo’s Fruit and Veg?’ She heard Kathy sigh; she had heard these questions before.

‘No.’

‘Not ever?’

‘Ah, has it got something to do with this ghost of yours?’ he asked.

Jenny nudged Mark so hard that he let out a short gasp. ‘You’re not allowed to use the “G” word.’

‘And that would be because I don’t think she is a ghost,’ interjected Maggie. ‘A restless soul, perhaps, but not a ghost.’

‘Really?’ Jenny asked. ‘So your next question isn’t going to be whether or not Mark has heard of anyone drowning in the lake?’

‘I’m only asking in case Elsa did do something silly. I’m worried about her and I wanted to know if the lake was deep enough, that’s all,’ Maggie said, hoping only she could hear the lie.

She couldn’t blame her friends’ gentle mockery. Away from the lake and the connection she had felt with Elsa, Maggie was finding it impossible to justify or explain why this relative stranger should occupy her mind so much or why she feared for her future.

‘It wouldn’t take much water if someone was determined enough to drown themselves,’ Mark offered helpfully.

‘Thanks, Mark,’ Maggie said. She had no desire to revisit the countless theories that had kept her mind turning and her stomach churning for the past few weeks, so she made a point of checking her watch again. ‘Now I’ll be late for my second appointment if we don’t get a move on.’

‘Then if you’ve finished with me, I’ll be on my way,’ Mark said and turned to leave.

Maggie may have begun to doubt her senses but in some respects, she was as sharp as ever. ‘Don’t you think you’re forgetting something, Mark?’ She had heard the footsteps that marked his retreat but not the telltale squeak of pram wheels.

‘Nice try,’ muttered Jenny.

‘And don’t forget to come back and pick your wife up,’ Maggie added. ‘Now, Mrs Smith, would you like to come this way?’

The treatment room had been designed to make the most of the limited space available. There was a massage table in the centre, a small table and chairs for consultations in one corner and shelving lined up along all the available wall space. Jenny was currently reclining in the treatment chair, which took up the last of the available space.

Maggie had begun with a head massage and there had been gratifying groans from her mystery client as she dug her fingers deep into her neck and scalp in wide, curving arcs. Together they had selected a relaxing mixture of bergamot, chamomile and neroli, taking account of Jenny’s preferences and needs.

The aromas had already worked their magic on Harvey who was snoring peacefully in his bed tucked away in a corner. Jenny was another challenge entirely: between groans her chatter had been incessant. She had been telling Maggie how the property market wasn’t picking up fast enough and that Mark’s boss was considering further redundancies. Rather than relaxing, Jenny was becoming more agitated, so when Maggie moved her to the table for a full body massage, she refused to start until her friend had taken a vow of silence. She called it tough love.

By the time all the knots in Jenny’s shoulders had been kneaded away, her groans had reduced to whimpers. ‘I’ll massage your feet next,’ Maggie whispered, ‘and then that’s it.’

‘It won’t tickle will it?’

‘Shush,’ Maggie instructed.

‘But you started talking first.’

‘Shush.’

Maggie had learnt different therapies over the years and reflexology had proven to be an effective technique for mind as well as body. It often evoked an intense and emotional reaction so when the first sob came, Maggie wasn’t as surprised as Jenny, who had been warned of the side effects but had been convinced she wouldn’t succumb.

‘It’s OK, Jen, don’t fight it. Let yourself go. I’m here to catch you.’

Jenny’s reply was unintelligible, little more than a mumbled snivel. Maggie guessed her friend was still trying to fight against the tide of her emotions but the next sob came nevertheless.

When the treatment was over, Maggie didn’t say a word as she poured a glass of water for her client who was weeping in loud, ragged gasps.

‘I … I … I’m just so scared. What if Mark loses his job? What if it’s me working all the hours God sends? What if I’m the one missing out on Lily growing up?’ Jenny stammered as she finished dressing and took the glass. ‘I don’t know if I could cope with that.’

‘Those “what ifs” haven’t happened yet but if they do you will cope. You have Mark and Lily and you have me too. You’re not on your own,’ Maggie said. She handed Jenny a tissue.

‘I feel like a gibbering wreck,’ her friend said with a hiccup.

Maggie gave her an enigmatic smile. ‘You look ready to face the world to me.’

Jenny laughed. ‘Thanks, Maggie.’

‘The boys are with us next week for half-term so I won’t be in the salon but I can still do home visits, armed with a bottle of massage oil or a bottle of wine; your choice.’

‘Wine sounds good,’ Jenny said. She was doing her best to sound upbeat but her voice trembled very slightly. She blew her nose. ‘I think I’m ready.’

‘You haven’t seen the bill yet,’ Maggie said, although she had already decided that if she was being forced to accept payment from a family whose financial future was in doubt, then it would be heavily discounted no matter how much Kathy protested.

Lily’s cries could be heard from outside the salon as soon as Maggie opened the door of the treatment room. More sobs erupted behind her. Mother and daughter were howling in stereo and the crescendo of wails was enough to wake up Harvey who hurried past them.

Maggie did her best to usher Jenny towards the exit without disturbing the other customers but it was an impossible task. Harvey didn’t have his harness on and she hadn’t thought to pick up her cane. Jenny’s floundering was getting them nowhere until Kathy came to the rescue.

‘You know, Maggie, we might need to invest in a rear entrance,’ Kathy said once they had handed Jenny over to a bemused Mark and promptly closed the door on them. ‘If your scowls earlier weren’t enough to frighten away our customers then that little performance certainly will.’

‘I think she means me,’ came a voice that was immediately recognisable.

‘Elsa?’

Jenny’s treatment oils had overpowered the scent of lilacs when Maggie had walked past the waiting area earlier but she could smell the perfume now.

The woman gave a throaty laugh. ‘People haven’t called me that for sixty years. Even the doctors know better than to use my proper name. I don’t care what’s written on your forms, you can call me either Mrs Milton or Elsie. I prefer Elsie.’

Maggie tried to swallow but her mouth was bone dry.

‘Are you all right, love?’ the old lady said. ‘You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.’

‘You don’t remember me, do you?’ Maggie managed.

‘I’m afraid my memory isn’t what it used to be. Should I?’

Maggie didn’t know what to say or think. Her mind had stalled and a shiver crawled down her spine. She wanted more than anything to tell this woman, who was undoubtedly in her twilight years, that they had met when Elsa was twenty-two-years old, alone and pregnant – not because Maggie believed it to be true but because she wanted it to be true. She had an irrational need for Elsa to remain within reach of her help.

‘Would you like me to wait while you get yourself ready?’ Elsie asked when Maggie still hadn’t responded.

‘You do look a bit pale,’ Kathy added.

Maggie insisted that she was fine but there was no fooling Kathy.

‘How about I make you some hot, sweet tea?’ Kathy asked. ‘Would you like one, Mrs Milton?’

‘That would be lovely. I’ll let my husband know what I’m up to first. I won’t be a minute.’

Mrs Milton headed for the small waiting area and Kathy lowered her voice to ask the burning question: ‘Mrs Milton is Elsa? The Elsa?’

‘Yes.’ There was no hesitation in Maggie’s reply but there was a note of puzzlement.

‘You do realise she’s in her eighties? I’m pretty sure that rules out the possibility of her being pregnant.’

‘I know,’ Maggie said as she tried to think back to when they had first met. The dated perfume and the gravelly voice were the clues Maggie should have used to build up the picture of an elderly woman despite the youthful lilt that had obviously been forced. Had Maggie been so eager to believe that Elsa was some kind of lost soul that she had ignored her instincts? How could she have been so foolish?

‘At least the search can be called off,’ Kathy added kindly when she realised Maggie was finding it difficult to reconcile the two opposing images she now had of her new friend.

‘What have I done, Kathy? She doesn’t remember a thing about me. That poor woman was stumbling around the park thinking she was in her twenties and I did nothing to help her.’

‘Hello, ladies,’ Alice announced as the bell above the door gently tinkled. She tried to muffle her cough as Maggie turned towards her. ‘I know what you’re going to say and I will make an appointment for one of your massage thingies but my roots are showing and that’s my priority for today.’

‘OK, Alice, I’ll be with you in a minute,’ Kathy said. She sounded disappointed that her conversation with Maggie had been cut short.

‘Is that Mrs Milton over there?’ Alice asked. ‘It’s such a shame.’

‘What is?’ Kathy asked before Maggie had a chance.

Alice whispered, ‘I found her in the park the other day. She was a bit confused, poor love. It took me a while to get her to tell me who she was and where she came from but we eventually tracked down her husband. It’s an awful thing, dementia. I saw my dad go through it and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.’

‘At least you helped her,’ Maggie said, comparing Alice’s abilities to her own. She felt humiliated; there was no other way to describe it.

‘Hello, Elsie love,’ Alice said as she directed her attention to the woman whose heels scraped across the tiled floor towards them. ‘Are you feeling better today?’

‘Erm, yes thank you …’

‘I’m Alice.’

‘Of course, how could I forget?’ she said, clearly uncomfortable, then turned to Maggie. ‘I’ve told my husband we could be a while and to go home but he’s having none of it. How long do you think it will take?’

Maggie painted on a smile. ‘That really depends on you. What is it I can help you with?’

‘I’m not sure to be honest. I came across your card and I thought I’d give it a try. Something to ease my aching feet would be good.’

‘I’ll see what I can do for you,’ Maggie said. The old lady was either unaware or unwilling to acknowledge the episodes in the park where she had been transported back to another time in her life so Maggie was going to have to earn Elsa – no, Elsie’s trust all over again. ‘I don’t have any more clients today so we can take as long as you need.’

‘Then we’ll take our time and make the daft old sod wait,’ Elsie whispered, loud enough to be heard ten feet away.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after him,’ Alice promised.

As Maggie took her latest client into the treatment room, she couldn’t help but wonder about the man waiting patiently in reception. Had Freddie returned to save Elsa and refused to leave her side ever since?

The rigid plastic chairs in the treatment room squeaked as Maggie went through a formal assessment with her new client: taking some personal details; a brief medical history; checking for known allergies; and forming an idea of what fragrances Elsie preferred while she did her best to silence the internal voice that wanted to ask more probing questions.

She used a digital recorder for her notes and from experience knew that when she played the recording back, the squeak of the chairs would be as irritating then as it was now. Today the recorder would also pick up the chink of china as Elsie sipped her tea.

‘I’m sorry, these seats aren’t very comfortable, are they?’

‘With my joints, there aren’t many chairs that are.’

‘If I can convince you to try out some of my therapies, then the treatment chair over there will be much better.’

At this point, Maggie was meant to go through some options to help ease Elsie’s aches and pains but she still hadn’t told her how they had met before. The deceit played on her mind and she was about to confess all but the seemingly frail and vulnerable woman in front of her was already one step ahead.

‘I’m afraid I have a confession to make,’ Elsie said and if the squeak of the chair wasn’t enough to give away her agitation then the nerves constricting her throat certainly were. ‘Do you mind if we turn that thing off?’

Maggie switched off the recorder without a word.

‘This is a lovely room, so clean and colourful. It’s not what I was expecting at all,’ Elsie said as she scanned the shelves which held an intriguing mix of jars and bottles with bright labels that brought a splash of colour to counter the clinical white of the walls and the chrome fittings.

‘I’m a bit obsessive about adding lots of colour to the packaging of my products to match the colourful scents inside but as for clean, the dog hairs can be a problem,’ Maggie said, tapping the side of her leg to call Harvey over.

‘Hello, boy,’ Elsie said. ‘You are a cutie, aren’t you?’ The dog shook himself as she tickled his back. ‘One of our neighbours in Liverpool had a guide dog. They were quite a team. Mr …’ Her voice trailed off.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Maggie offered.

‘Remembering names is a bit hit and miss I’m afraid.’ There was a frustrated pause but Elsie wasn’t giving up. ‘Woodhouse, that was it. Mr Woodhouse. Anyway,’ she said, turning her attention back to the dog, ‘he had a German Shepherd and he wasn’t a patch on you, Harvey.’

‘You remember his name?’

Elsie laughed but it was hollow. ‘Like I said, hit and miss.’

‘That wasn’t what I meant.’

Elsie stopped stroking Harvey. ‘I don’t remember meeting you before but I’m not denying that we may have.’

‘We’ve met twice before in Victoria Park. We sat together on the bench by the lake,’ Maggie said gently.

‘That bench has certainly seen a lot of comings and goings in its time.’

A flush rose in Maggie’s cheeks as she imagined Elsie trying to work out how much she had told her. Maggie wanted to explain but something held her back. Bizarre as it seemed, it was Elsa who had trusted Maggie with her innermost secrets and she was loath to break that trust, even with Elsa’s older self. ‘It’s a beautiful spot.’

‘And one that has played on my mind for a very long time.’

‘Do you remember anything of our meetings?’ There was the soft swish of hair brushing against her collar as Elsie shook her head. Struggling to find a diplomatic way to bridge Elsie’s present with her past, Maggie asked, ‘How long have you been having problems with your memory, Elsie?’

‘You mean how long have I had Alzheimer’s? That’s the medical term the doctors in Liverpool labelled me with. Now, when was that?’ she asked herself. ‘We moved to Sedgefield a couple of months ago … I think … So, oh, I don’t know, six months ago, a year maybe? It was when the police got involved.’

‘The police?’ Maggie asked, unable to hide her shock.

‘I kept trying to find my way back to Sedgefield and the local bobbies got used to picking me up and taking me home so I eventually agreed to see the doctor. Of course it started long before then, lots of silly things that we could joke about at first, like when I put my shoes in the oven and claimed I was making Dover sole,’ Elsie said. ‘But there are some things I can’t laugh off.’

‘Like your trips to the park?’

When she replied, Elsie’s words were choked. ‘I come out of the fug feeling so lost and confused and it terrifies me. I keep trying to convince myself that it’ll take time to settle in a new place but I’m not getting better, only worse.’

‘There’s a reason this town is special to you, isn’t there?’

There was a telling pause. ‘You know I’ve lived in Sedgefield before, don’t you?’

‘When we met, you introduced yourself as Elsa and told me you were twenty-two, which would be back in 1953 by my reckoning,’ Maggie said, having worked it out from the date of birth Elsie had given. But that was only one small piece of the puzzle. ‘I think you trusted me, maybe because I’m pregnant too.’

‘I did wonder how I came to have your card in my pocket. Can I still trust you?’

‘Yes,’ Maggie replied, eager to hear Elsa’s fate.

‘Then forget everything I may have told you.’

When Maggie reached out to take Elsie’s hand, the chair squeaked as the old lady pulled away.

‘But you came back to Sedgefield for a reason, surely? Perhaps I can help,’ Maggie offered although for the life of her she didn’t know how.

‘You can help by taking absolutely no notice of my ramblings.’

But the image of Elsa that Maggie had conjured in her mind persisted. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the young woman she had befriended was still there, hiding in the corners of Mrs Milton’s mind, still frightened of the future, still needing her help. ‘And if you find yourself at the lakeside again?’

When Elsie spoke, it was in the barest whisper and had echoes of Elsa. ‘Don’t try to save me.’

Maggie’s skin crawled. She reached over and this time took hold of Elsie’s hand firmly in her own. Elsie’s fingers were icy cold, the flesh slightly sagging and her arthritic joints swollen and gnarled. Little wonder Maggie had recoiled when she had taken hold of Elsa’s hand in the park, expecting the taut, delicate skin of youth. ‘I can’t promise you that.’

‘Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up next to the man you’ve been married to for fifty-odd years and think an intruder has found his way into your bed? Can you imagine how terrifying that is for me and for him too?’

‘No, I can’t. But if you jump into that lake then I promise you, here and now, that I’m going to dive straight in and drag you out.’

There was a moment’s pause as the two women squared up to each other then Elsie sighed. ‘You don’t have to worry – my husband won’t let me out of his sight these days.’

‘Is it Freddie waiting for you outside?’ Maggie ventured.

‘There is no Freddie,’ came the rather stoic reply.

Forced to consider that the American had been a figment of her fractured mind just like the swans, Maggie asked, ‘He didn’t exist?’

‘Freddie is a ghost from the past that my illness seems intent on bringing back to life. I have to keep reminding myself of who I am and where I am. My name is Elsie; I’ve been married to … Ted … for God knows how many years. I have … I have two daughters,’ she said, faltering as her mind failed to keep up with the sense of conviction she had wanted to convey.

‘I still want to help if you’ll let me,’ persisted Maggie. ‘There’s empirical evidence that aromatherapy can help with some of the symptoms you’re experiencing. Are you having any treatment?’

‘Why do you think I ran away from Liverpool? I couldn’t be doing with all that. And this could just be a storm in a teacup. My trip to the park was probably a one-off while I get my bearings in a new town.’

‘I met you there twice,’ Maggie reminded her. ‘And Alice found you there too.’

‘All right, I’m not daft and before that frown of yours gives you premature wrinkles, I’m not in complete denial either. I’ve promised … I’ve promised …’

‘Ted?’ Maggie offered and immediately regretted her haste.

‘I know my husband’s name. Now, you’ve made me forget what I was saying,’ Elsie said with more than a hint of irritation. ‘I’ve promised Ted I’ll go back to the doctor’s so I don’t need your interference. My Ted will look after me.’

‘I’m your friend, remember?’

When Elsie exhaled, the anger left her body. ‘I wish I’d had someone like you around sixty years ago.’

The silence that followed, rather than creating an awkward pause, brought a connection that spanned the decades. Maggie still hadn’t asked the burning question but it would take time for Elsie to trust her enough to reveal what had happened to the baby. However, that didn’t stop her from skirting around the edges.

‘Do you have any family in Sedgefield?’

‘No. My eldest daughter, Nancy, lives in America and Yvonne lives up in Scotland. As for the rest of my family, I only have a brother left now and he’s in his seventies. I do have plenty of nieces and nephews though, some close enough to be called upon if needs be.’

‘And you have me, not sixty years ago but now. Please do go to see the doctor but that doesn’t mean you can’t come here too for some complementary therapy. In fact, you might want to try this cream,’ Maggie said, jumping up so fast it made Harvey start. She quickly found the jar she was after and checked the label, which was written in Braille as well as print. ‘You can apply it to your arms, neck and chest before bedtime to help improve your sleep patterns or you could use it during the day to keep your thoughts clear. It contains lavender and lemon balm,’ she explained, undoing the lid.

‘I prefer lilacs,’ Elsie said without taking the proffered jar.

‘I’ve noticed but I’m afraid lilac isn’t widely used as an essential oil. It’s very expensive and even the lilac perfume you wear will be made from a synthetic scent rather than a natural oil.’

Maggie heard a surreptitious sniff; Elsie was checking the remnants of her perfume on her wrist. ‘It was my Aunt Flo who introduced me to lilacs. I stayed with her when I was last in Sedgefield and I can remember back to that time as if it was yesterday. She could walk into this room right now and I wouldn’t bat an eyelid.’ Elsie’s voice trailed off as her mind wandered for a moment but then she sighed. ‘Now, where was I? Ah yes, Flo Jackson. She had lilac trees in her garden and made all kinds of concoctions from the flowers, including soap. I didn’t like it at first but I’d be lost without my perfume now, even if it’s not quite the same as the one the old lady used.’ Elsie laughed to herself. ‘Listen to me talking about an old lady. I sometimes forget I’m one myself.’

Maggie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Well, I can’t claim to be another Flo Jackson but if this one doesn’t help then there are other recipes to try or I could always acquire some lilac oil if you really wanted it.’

Elsie didn’t respond immediately and Maggie felt herself being scrutinised. ‘My instincts still work no matter what state my mind’s in and they tell me you’re a good person, Maggie.’

‘I try to be.’

‘And you’ll make a good mother. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’

‘You remember me telling you how scared I am about becoming a mum?’

‘No, I’m afraid not,’ Elsie said although there was something in her voice that made Maggie think she did, even if her mind failed to register the fact. ‘It was your friend outside.’

‘Kathy?’

‘She went to great lengths to tell me how capable you are and how anyone who dares to suggest that you wouldn’t make a wonderful mother would have her to answer to. She talked quite a lot, probably to drown out the noise of you torturing that poor girl who was in here. Is she all right, by the way?’

‘Jenny? Yes, she’ll be fine. It’s good to have that emotional release now and again, especially in a safe environment with someone you trust,’ Maggie explained. ‘She’s actually my closest friend and despite appearances, she’d say the same about me.’

‘Once she stops sobbing,’ added Elsie.

Maggie could feel herself relaxing and would have been happy to chat some more but she heard the plastic chair squeak one last time as Elsie hauled herself up. ‘I’d better get going before Ted starts fretting.’

‘Will you come and visit me again? We could make another appointment for you now if you’d like?’

Elsie didn’t answer immediately and Maggie willed the old lady to reach out to her, but without the park bench to unite them, Elsie’s determination to keep her distance was too strong. ‘Let’s see how I get on with this cream first,’ she said with a groan as she straightened her back. ‘Who knows? It might be a miracle cure.’

Maggie took the jar and, tightening the lid, popped it into a paper bag. ‘I hope so, Elsie.’

‘So how much do you charge for miracles?’ Elsie asked, putting her handbag on the table so she could find her purse.

‘This one’s on the house. No arguments.’

Elsie thanked her and when she took the paper bag, Maggie heard her flip it over to twist and seal the corners, reminiscent of a fruit and veg seller in the town market.

‘When’s the baby due?’ Elsie then asked.

‘October.’

‘You’ll be just fine.’

Many people had said the very same thing but it was the first time that Maggie had come close to believing it. There was something in Elsie’s tone that dared to be challenged, a tone that Maggie hadn’t heard since her mum had died.

7

Maggie stirred her tea as she sat perched at the breakfast bar. It was Saturday afternoon and the house was quiet, unlike her thoughts. After Mrs Milton’s visit earlier that week, she had been left shell-shocked and not a little ashamed. She should have known immediately that Elsa wasn’t the young woman she claimed to be. Even without the benefit of sight, her perceptions were better than that but whereas Alice had coaxed Elsie out of her fug when they had met, Maggie had only reinforced the old lady’s illusory world, leaving her even more confused.

To make matters worse, Maggie felt completely impotent. Mrs Milton would not be returning to the salon despite her assurances to the contrary. She had said her piece and now she wanted to draw a line under the past while that choice remained in her control. There was nothing else Maggie could do except ponder Elsa’s fate and grieve the loss of a friendship that, for the briefest time, had made her feel less alone.

There was one good thing to come from the whole mess: failing Mrs Milton had made her all the more determined not to fail anyone else, not least the baby growing inside her. She could still hear the raw pain in Elsa’s voice as she contemplated giving up her child and behind it that fierce love that only a parent could know. It was that inner strength that prompted her to make one particular call that was well overdue.

‘Hello? Are you there?’

The only reply was the combined sound of shuffling and heavy breathing.

‘Dad? It’s Maggie,’ she said.

She could hear shuffling footfalls as the person on the other end of the phone, no doubt her father, went in search of assistance. Stan had moved to Spain not long after Maggie’s wedding and she had given him a mobile phone so that they could keep in touch. Her dad was hard of hearing and technology wasn’t his strong point so he always seemed mildly annoyed when the phone started to vibrate and disturb his peace. ‘This thing isn’t working again,’ he growled.

‘Come here, Stan.’ It was the matronly voice of Maggie’s aunt. Dot was ten years Stan’s junior, which put her in her late sixties, a spring chicken compared to Stan in body and in mind. The sound of metal scraping against the handset suggested that Dot’s ring-embellished hand had pulled it from Stan’s grasp.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi Dot, it’s Maggie. I take it he hasn’t switched on his hearing aids.’

‘It’s your daughter,’ Dot said loudly before turning her attention to the caller. ‘I swear I don’t know why he even bothers to wear them. How are you, love? Any news?’

‘I just wanted to speak to Dad,’ Maggie said as casually as she could, her pulse racing.

There was a curt exchange between brother and sister and a short pause as everyone waited for Stan’s hearing aids to be switched on. After an interminable wait, the phone was handed back to her dad.

‘I wear them as earplugs to drown out your chatter,’ Stan told Dot gruffly then said to Maggie, ‘Hello, sweetheart.’

‘Hello, Dad. I haven’t interrupted anything, have I?’

‘No, of course not. I was just sitting outside on the porch playing solitaire.’

‘It’s not a porch, it’s a veranda!’ Dot called.

Stan tutted. ‘Sorry about the interference on the line, love. Bear with me; I’ll take the phone out on to the porch.’

Maggie held her smile as she listened to her dad’s laboured shuffling, more confirmation that it was better for him to be too far away to insist on being more hands-on in his daughter’s life. Her parents had both been in their forties when Maggie came along and their maturity and patience had been a crucial factor in her development, but time had marched on and Stan’s hearing wasn’t the only thing to have deteriorated in recent years. They had each been set adrift when Joan died and had needed to find new anchors. Maggie already had James so it had been a godsend when Dot offered to take Stan under her wing.

‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘So, how are things with you? What’s the weather like over there?’

‘It’s teeming down at the moment,’ Maggie told him knowing how pleased he would be by the news. It dampened his homesickness and she had been known to occasionally embellish the bleakness of the British weather for his benefit.

‘Never mind, it’s warming up nicely here. Warm enough for a bit of sunbathing if Dot didn’t insist on slapping on two layers of sun block every time I step out of the shade. That stuff stinks to high heaven.’

‘She’s only looking after you.’

‘No wonder Jim spends half his time on the golf course.’

‘You’re still not tempted to take it up yourself then?’

‘Someone’s got to keep the old girl company,’ he said. It was the closest Stan would ever come to admitting a reluctant affection for his sister.

‘The golf widow and the widower, a perfect team,’ Maggie said. She was playing for time, trying to decide when and how to break the news but the words came out before she could hold them back. ‘Dad, I’m going to have a baby.’

At first it was only the shuddering gasp that gave Maggie any clue to her dad’s reaction but it was enough. It was a mixture of joy and sadness at receiving the long-awaited announcement, the release of years of frustrations and fears that his daughter might never achieve the kind of completeness she had longed for since she was a little girl. ‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he said at last, a sniff exposing the tears that would be welling in his eyes.

‘I’m only four months pregnant so there’s a bit of a wait yet,’ Maggie said as her own tears slipped down her cheeks.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he repeated but this time there was a note of regret in his voice.

For a moment, Maggie considered the possibility that he was about to reproach her in the same way that Judith had. ‘Dad? You are happy about it, aren’t you?’

‘Happy? Of course I am, Maggie. I couldn’t be happier,’ Stan said and his smile beamed across the miles. He started laughing. ‘I can’t believe it. Really, I just can’t believe it. I’m going to be a granddad!’

There was a squeal of delight somewhere in the background and then Dot was there, gushing with excitement as she wrestled the phone from Stan. Maggie was laughing and crying as the two began talking at once, asking questions and barely listening to the answers as their opponent interjected with the next question. Even her Uncle Jim’s voice was added to the mêlée and it took almost half an hour before the tidal wave of excitement settled into a satisfied lull.

‘I wish your mum was here to enjoy the moment too,’ Stan said when he had his daughter to himself. His voice was the barest of whispers as if it was a confession he didn’t want to reveal.

‘Me too, Dad. I could do with her guiding arm right now.’

‘I should come home. I’ll check the flights.’

Yes, please come home, she wanted to say and was thankful she had waited until she felt strong enough to hold back the urge. ‘No, Dad, I’m fine. Mum spent her life preparing me for this by showing me first-hand how to be a good mum. I’ll try not to let her down.’

‘You are your mother’s daughter.’

‘That’s some compliment. But you can expect loads more calls from me in the next few months because I might need you to keep reminding me of that,’ she said.

‘Anytime, day or night.’

‘As long as you’ve got your hearing aid switched on,’ she reminded him.

‘Yes, you’re definitely your mother’s daughter!’

Maggie wasn’t only smiling now; she was practically glowing. ‘Thanks, Dad.’ She was about to end the call but found herself returning to an obsession she hadn’t quite relinquished. ‘Before I go, could I pick your brain?’

‘You can try.’

‘Do you remember a greengrocer’s in Sedgefield called Flo’s Fruit and Veg? It would have been around in the fifties.’

Stan muttered to himself as he put his memory to the test. ‘Your mum would remember stuff like that, not me.’

Maggie wasn’t ready to give in. ‘Apparently it was owned by someone called Mrs Jackson.’

‘Ah yes, of course! You mean Flo Jackson. Her shop was somewhere on the High Street, I think.’

‘Really? You remember her?’ Maggie asked. She was surprised at how relieved she felt from the confirmation that the shop and Mrs Jackson had existed at all. Even in her most lucid state, Mrs Milton had been reluctant to give Maggie any indication that Elsa’s story was fact or fiction.

‘Vaguely. Her husband died and she ran the shop on her own for a while. She was quite lonely, as I recall. I don’t think she had any kids.’

‘Do you remember any other relatives? Or maybe a young woman staying with her in the early fifties?’ There was a flutter of excitement as Maggie considered the possibility that her dad had once met Elsa.

Stan thought a little while longer. ‘Now you’re asking. There might have been some kind of falling out with family … Could it have been a niece? No, I’m sorry, love. I probably didn’t pay enough attention at the time, let alone remember it now.’

The sound of the front door opening brought Maggie back to the present. James was home from what would be his last day at work for a whole week and he would be curious to know why his wife had started digging into Elsa’s past when she had already told him how Mrs Milton’s appearance had exorcised that particular ghost. And she didn’t have a convincing argument, not even to herself. Her only answer was that you had to be there, sitting with Elsa sixty years ago by the lake, so she preferred to avoid the debate. ‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter,’ she said.

‘Why on earth are you asking anyway?’

‘Oh, just some research,’ Maggie said. Heavy footfalls grew closer and then James was there. ‘Thanks, Dad. I’ll get James to email the scan photo to Aunt Dot so you can have the first glimpse of the baby.’

‘All right, love, and tell James I said congratulations.’

‘Yes, I’ll tell him you said congratulations and then I’ll thank him for not taking off his work boots and making a mess of my nice, clean floor.’

‘Hello, Stan!’ James called as he backed carefully out of the kitchen.

When Maggie put down the phone, she sent James upstairs to take a bath while she set to work mopping up. Fortunately for her husband, she was too distracted by the fading path that led to the past than the trail of mud down the hallway.

What sounded like a herd of elephants charged through the front door and down the hallway. With a well-developed sense of smell, they picked up a scent too delicious to resist and raced towards the kitchen.

‘We’re here!’ they screamed.

Maggie dropped the wooden spoon in her hand and it landed in the bowl of chocolate butter icing with a choreographed thud. The startled look was melodramatic as was the gasp. ‘You scared me!’

The boys laughed as they hugged her. ‘Hello, wicked stepmother,’ Liam chirped.

‘Sam, take your fingers out of that bowl,’ growled Maggie.

There was a sucking sound as the youngest of James’s sons sampled the butter icing. ‘Dee-licious!’ exclaimed the seven-year-old.

‘Can I lick the bowl when you’ve finished?’ Liam asked.

‘No, I want to.’

‘Since you’ve already had your lunch of …’ Maggie said with an analytical sniff, ‘burger and fries with way too much tomato sauce if I’m not mistaken, then you can have the bowl and two spoons to share. The cake is for later.’

‘But not until you’ve unpacked,’ James added. He had been watching from the kitchen door. ‘Now.’

‘We haven’t said hello to Harvey yet,’ Sam cried.

‘Where is he?’ Liam added.

‘I think he’s behind you,’ Maggie told them.

Harvey had watched from the sidelines but at the sound of his name, he rushed over to the boys. His years of self-discipline and training were quickly forgotten as he jumped up and began to lick them ferociously. Sam’s chocolate-flavoured fingers were particularly irresistible.

‘Come on, let Maggie finish her baking,’ James said. ‘You can take Harvey upstairs with you – but do not feed him.’

Sam and Liam muttered but didn’t object. No sooner had they left the kitchen than the troop of elephants resumed their charge and headed up the stairs, closely followed by the lighter but no-less-excited footfalls of Harvey.

‘How was the drive?’ Maggie asked when the noise had died down.

James had driven only as far as a service station near Birmingham where his sons were waiting to be handed over by Carolyn and her new husband.

‘Far easier than travelling all the way to Portsmouth and back,’ he said. ‘All I need to do now is convince Carolyn to do this every time.’

James and his ex-wife had found an uneasy friendship, which occasionally allowed for compromise, although Carolyn would always have the upper hand because James would travel to the ends of the earth to see his sons and she knew it.

‘Have the boys mentioned the baby at all?’ Maggie asked.

‘Briefly. They wanted to know if you were fat yet.’

Maggie laughed. ‘I hope you told them I’m not.’

James stepped towards her and slid his hand over her bump. ‘It is starting to show a little.’

She placed her hand over his and a smile reached her lips before the frown could crease her brow. Her baby was further ahead with its own preparations than she was. ‘So what else did they say?’

‘Not much really,’ James said, trying to disguise the anxiety in his voice. Liam and Sam had been excited when first told the news but that had been a month ago and the novelty had quickly worn off.

‘That’s not necessarily a bad thing. It means they don’t feel threatened.’

‘I hope so, Maggie. They spent most of the journey talking about their new puppy.’

‘I should have known they’d opt for a Labrador in the end. So when will they get it?’

‘The pups haven’t even been born yet but the plan is to pick up Hartley sometime in the summer,’ James said.

‘Hartley?’

‘So they say. Very imaginative, don’t you think?’

Maggie’s aim was perfect as she smacked James’s hand, which was poised over the mixing bowl. ‘You’re as bad as the boys,’ she scolded. ‘Why don’t you go and help them unpack. I need to finish this cake while I’ve still got enough butter icing to cover it.’

‘You’re the boss.’

James was retreating out of the kitchen when the phone rang. The house phone had been programmed for specific callers and this ringtone had a persistent chirp that would not be ignored.

‘Judith must have a sixth sense when it comes to locating her grandsons,’ Maggie said wryly.

‘I’ll get it,’ James said as if there had been any dispute.

Maggie began scraping her spatula against the bottom of the bowl as she sought out the last pockets of cocoa powder that hadn’t been incorporated into the mix. A quick taste test confirmed that the icing tasted as good as it smelled and she could almost forgive Sam for giving into temptation. But these thoughts barely registered and her stirring slowed as Maggie listened to one half of a conversation between mother and son.

‘Yes, the traffic wasn’t bad for a bank holiday weekend,’ James was telling her.

Maggie used the spatula to push the mixture towards one side of the bowl as she heard James answer more questions about his early morning journey. It took a couple of minutes for Judith to get around to the real reason she had phoned.

‘I’ll have to check with Maggie first. We wanted to spend as much time with the boys as we can.’

Maggie didn’t need to hear the other side of the conversation to know that her mother-in-law was trying to engineer some time of her own with the boys. Judith would be persistent; she liked to get her own way and with James she usually did. It was this apparent hold on him that terrified Maggie. Fixing gates and trips out with the grandchildren were one thing but Judith had views on James’s future too and Maggie suspected she wasn’t a part of that vision.

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