I fold the key into my palm and close the cupboard. ‘I … I was checking the front door. I hadn’t double-bolted it.’
Even in the half-light I can see the doubt in her expression. ‘I thought I’d double-bolted it.’
‘Yes. Yes, you had.’
‘Right.’ She comes towards me. She looks like she’s floating in her long nightdress and I kick the cupboard closed with my foot before she asks why I’m looking in it. ‘So why did you check?’
‘Because I couldn’t remember you doing it. And I know how you like the house to be properly locked at night. So I thought I’d check. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about it.’
She smiles, reaches out and touches my hair almost maternally in a way I’ve never seen her do with Kathryn. Her little finger catches my cheek. ‘You’re a good girl,’ she says, her eyes softening. ‘I’m glad you’re here, watching over me.’
I feel a little awkward. So I stand there smiling inanely, wondering what the correct response should be. She’s so close to me I can smell her breath: mint mixed with something sour. The end of the key presses painfully into my palm.
‘Will you help me back up to bed? You know how difficult it is for me to climb stairs.’
I’d noted that she had no trouble getting down them but I agree – anything to stop her breathing in my face – and she takes my elbow, leaning on me heavily, even though she’s a head taller. Good job I’m stronger than I look, I think, as I help her back to her room.
She pats the edge of the bed. ‘Sit with me awhile,’ she says. ‘Now I’m awake I’ll have trouble getting back to sleep.’
She’s never asked me to sit with her before. Usually I put her to bed and she falls asleep straight away. Like clockwork. Every night at nine thirty on the dot. I wonder if she asked the other girls to sit with her like this, in her pristine bedroom, with the heavy walnut furniture and the Tiffany lamps. I sit awkwardly on the edge of the bed, while she lies back against the pillows, smiling indulgently.
‘I can make you some cocoa,’ I say, because that’s what they do in films – it gives me nausea and makes me want to pee.
‘No, I don’t like hot drinks before bed. Just sit. Please. Keep me company. I had an awful dream. I think that’s what woke me.’
Perhaps Elspeth will open up to me at last. Maybe I can try to find out what happened to Una.
‘What did you dream about?’ I ask, curling my legs up underneath me, as though she’s about to tell me a story.
She casts her eyes to her skinny, mottled hands resting on her lap. Her eyes, I’m shocked to note, are wet. ‘My daughter.’
‘Kathryn?’ Why would she be dreaming about her? And then I realize she means the other daughter.
‘No. I’ve got … had … another daughter. Viola. She …’ she gulps ‘… she left home at eighteen.’
I pretend to look surprised.
‘I don’t know.’ She sighs heavily. ‘Maybe it’s because I’m getting on. But I’ve been thinking a lot about her recently.’
‘Does she keep in touch?’ I ask, knowing the answer.
‘I’ve not heard from her in thirty years.’ Her voice breaks. I’ve spent a lot of time with Elspeth over the three weeks she’s employed me, and I’ve never heard her talk with such emotion in her voice. ‘I was so angry. So angry for such a long time. But now I think what’s the use? What was it all for?’
‘What happened?’ I ask gently.
She shakes her head and swallows. Just as I’m beginning to think she isn’t going to tell me, and wonder if I should excuse myself and go back to bed, she says, ‘I don’t know. That’s the sad thing. We argued. Of course. She was a teenager and not an easy one at that. She resented me, I think, because I adopted Kathryn. Viola was very mean to Kathryn. She bullied her. And Kathryn was like an eager puppy trying to please Viola at every turn. Viola took advantage of that. Huw, my husband, and I, we …’ she wrings her hands ‘… we had to rescue Kathryn on more than one occasion. Once Viola left her in the woods. Another time she lured her onto the suspension bridge when it was foggy and tied her to the railings as a prank. Kathryn was shaking with shock when we found her. It was … I was appalled that a daughter of mine could do such a thing. And I took Kathryn’s side. That’s how it must have looked to Viola. Then she met a boy … a brute, he was most unsuitable. We argued constantly. Huw had died by this time so it was just me and her, butting heads the whole time. And then, one day, she simply … left.’
‘Without a word?’
‘Nothing …’ She shrugs and wipes at her eyes with a silk handkerchief she always seems to have about her person. ‘I never heard from her again.’
‘Have you ever tried to find her?’ I ask.
‘Once. A few years after she left, when I realized she wasn’t coming back. By this time Kathryn was at university and I thought … I thought the conflict between them would have run out of steam, that it might be a good time for her to come back. I tried a private detective agency but …’ she shakes her head ‘… nothing. No leads. No clues. It’s like she disappeared into thin air.’ She smiles at me sadly. ‘You remind me of her. You’ve all reminded me of her.’
I know she’s thinking of the others. Of Matilde and Jemima and Una.
‘And they’ve all gone too. All gone. Like her. Like my Viola.’ She touches my cheek again. ‘You won’t go, will you? You won’t leave me too? Promise.’