Catching the Wind(89)

Clara stood. “Let me show you something.”

They followed her upstairs, to Quenby’s room. Clara moved toward the glass case and opened it, rummaging through the trinkets. Then she pulled something off the top shelf.

When she turned, Quenby and Lucas both gasped. There was a knight in her hand, about three inches tall, carved out of the same wood as Princess Adler.

“Extraordinary,” Lucas said.

Quenby took the knight, rolling it in her hand before passing it along to Lucas. “Where did you get that?”

“Would you believe it was once Hannah Dayne’s toy? I like to think she left it for me.”

Quenby’s and Lucas’s eyes met briefly before they looked back at Clara. “Hannah Dayne, the actress?”

“Yes, except she was known as Hannah Ward when we were children. She lived right outside Rodmell.”

Quenby’s mind raced. She’d only spoken to Hannah once for their interview, over the phone, and when Quenby asked about her own childhood, she’d said it had been a happy one, living with her single mother in a village south of London. “I didn’t realize Ms. Dayne grew up here.”

Clara nodded. “Her parents were killed during the war, but Lily Ward raised her and her sister. After Lily died, the two women left Rodmell and never returned. I found the knight when I helped clean out their home.” She paused. “What was the name again of the woman you’re searching for?”

“Brigitte.”

Clara’s voice trembled. “Hannah’s older sister was named Bridget.”

Quenby glanced at the knight in Lucas’s hand. Could Hannah Dayne be Rosalind’s daughter? Alexander had said that Rosalind left Brigitte and the baby near Rodmell, at the cliffs along the river. Brigitte must have taken the baby to Lily Ward’s house.

Had Hannah followed in her mother’s footsteps as an actress without realizing who her biological mother was? Or had she somehow discovered that Eliza Cain was her mum? Her chosen surname was eerily similar to the one her mother used on stage.

Quenby retrieved the knight from Lucas. “Where did Bridget go?”

“Last I knew, she was going to work as a children’s nurse up in Yorkshire, but that was back in the 1950s. Lily Ward left her house to the girls, but they never returned to claim it.”

Pieces began to click together in Quenby’s mind. The knight. The soft wind. The story of Hannah Dayne.

She looked toward the desk. “I need to look up something on my iPad.”

“I’ll do it for you,” Lucas said.

A bell rang on the floor below, and Clara moved toward the door. “Take the knight when you leave, in case you find either Bridget or Hannah.”

Lucas propped up Quenby’s iPad on the desk and opened her web browser. She told him exactly what to search for, and he began reading off the names of the country homes in Yorkshire. Abram Park. Acklam Hall. Adler House.

Quenby smiled. “Princess Adler.”

“The woman who wanted to fly.”

Lucas continued searching, but there wasn’t anything else about Adler House online. No images or stories or links.

“We can take the plane into Leeds this morning,” he said.

“Can you check my e-mail first?”

“Of course.” He tapped on the keyboard before scanning the screen. “You have two e-mails from Chandler. In the first one, she says she’s been trying to contact you on your mobile.”

“Tell her I’ve been swimming in the River Ouse.”

“In the next e-mail, she says that Evan has changed his mind and wants you to finish the story on the Ricker family. He’d like to meet with you in his office, first thing tomorrow.”

“Tell her—” Quenby paused, her head starting to ache again. “On second thought, don’t tell her anything at all.”





Chapter 54




Hannah gave birth to her daughter in the summer of 1967. She’d managed to hide her pregnancy, all the way up until the opening night of Cinderella in London’s Adelphi Theatre. The director was furious when he discovered her secret. Ian Levine demanded that she get rid of it, the very next day, but she refused to visit the man who made babies disappear.

Hannah left the West End for three years, but the stage kept calling her back. Her audience of one rewarded her hard work with cries instead of applause. Sleepless nights without any praise. She missed her beautiful costumes and the lights that poured down on her. The appreciation of an audience cajoling her onto the stage for a curtain call.

When Ian showed up at her door, he said he’d forgiven her, as if she’d done something wrong. That he wanted her back for Gone with the Wind. Years later Hannah told Bridget that he’d never even asked about their daughter.

She returned to the West End. Not because she wanted to work with Ian, but because she wanted to be Scarlett O’Hara.

After Jocelyn was born, Bridget had saved up enough money to take a long holiday from her work. She offered to come to London, to stay with her niece in the evenings while Hannah was performing, but Hannah assured her that she’d found a governess who watched over Jocelyn while she was onstage.

So Bridget had stayed at the children’s hospital, working with some of the most courageous children she’d ever met, not knowing that Hannah’s child was suffering alone.