She turned back to the window.
They were quiet for a few minutes, each lost in private regrets.
When she turned back around, Emmy could see that her mother had made a decision. She strode purposely past Emmy.
Emmy heard her on the stairs. She got up from the kitchen chair and limped up to the second floor. Mum was in her bedroom, looking through her wardrobe. Glass crunched beneath Emmy’s feet as she walked in. Mum pulled out a heather gray dress she’d come home with last spring. If she had noticed Emmy was wearing one of her dresses, Emmy couldn’t tell. She said nothing.
“What are you doing?” Emmy asked.
Mum tossed the dress onto her bed, reached up to the buttons on her maid’s uniform, and undid them. She stepped out of her work clothes and pulled on the dress. “I can’t do this alone. I need help.”
“But we’ve already been to the police and they—”
“I’m not talking about the police. They don’t care about me or Julia. I’m no one to them. Just another pitiful soul they don’t have the time or the means to pay attention to. I need someone who has connections.”
She grabbed a hairbrush off her bureau, shook the dust from it, and ran it through her hair. Even after a night of hell and a day of torment, she still looked so beautiful.
“Where are you going?” Emmy asked softly.
Mum picked up a bottle of perfume and squeezed the ball. The room filled with a sweet scent. “Stay here,” she said. “I don’t want Julia coming home to an empty house.”
She moved past Emmy, who turned to follow her.
“Where are you going, Mum?”
“If the sirens go off again, go to the shelter at the corner. When they stop, get back here as quick as you can.”
“Mum!” Emmy rushed to keep up with her.
Her mother was down the stairs and reaching for her handbag where she had dropped it at the front door when Emmy reached for her.
“Mum, please! Wait.”
Her mother turned to face Emmy.
“Please, Mum. Tell me where you’re going.”
Mum looked at her for a moment, studying her daughter’s face as if seeing it for the first time in a long while. “I am going to get help.”
It made Emmy sick to think she was going to whomever she was selling her body to; she was sure that was where her mum was headed. Emmy had brought her to this moment. It was because of her that Mum’s options for finding Julia had been reduced to this.
“Mum, don’t go,” Emmy pleaded.
“I have to.”
Then, from some crazed part of her, Emmy tossed out an offer that scared her breathless the second she uttered it, not only because it was so terrible, but because she was ready to make good on it. “Take me with you. I’ll do . . . I’ll do whatever it is you have to do. I’ll do it. This is all my fault.”
Mum’s features softened into a look Emmy hadn’t seen since Neville first came into her life to stay. Julia was a baby, and Mum was happy then. She reached out to touch Emmy’s face, cupping her fingers gently under her daughter’s chin. “No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is! It is. Let me do what you have to do.”
She smiled, dropped her hand, and looked away. A mirthless laugh escaped her. “Oh, Em. You’re not like me. Deep down I’ve always known it. You’re not like me. This is my doing. I will fix it.”
When she turned back to look at Emmy, her eyes were glistening. “Find something to cover the windows.”
“Mum—”
“Stay here. Watch for your sister. Don’t go outside after dark. It’s not safe.”
Before Emmy could say another word, her mother stepped outside into the chaos of their broken street and she watched her walk away, a beautiful woman in a heather gray dress with whispers of floral scent trailing after her.