The Light Between Oceans(87)

Who could say if the idea had already come to her before the to-do over Grace tearing all the pages out of her storybook? Hannah had scolded her, then stood in tears as she tried to gather up the pages of the first book Frank had ever bought for his daughter – Grimms’ fairy tales in German, elaborately illustrated with water-colour plates. ‘What have you done to Daddy’s book? Oh, darling, how could you?’ The girl responded by scrambling under her bed and curling into a ball, out of reach.

‘There’s so little left that’s Frank … ’ Hannah sobbed again as she looked at the ruined pages in her hands.

‘I know, Hanny. I know. But Grace doesn’t. She didn’t do it on purpose.’ She put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Tell you what, you go and have a lie down while I take her out.’

‘She needs to get used to being in her own home.’

‘We’ll just go to Dad’s. He’ll love it, and the fresh air will do her good.’

‘Really, no. I don’t want—’

‘Come on, Hanny. You really could do with a rest.’

Hannah sighed. ‘All right. But just straight there and back.’

As they started down the street, Gwen handed her niece a toffee. ‘You’d like a lolly, wouldn’t you, Lucy?’

‘Yes,’ the child replied, then cocked her head to one side as she noticed the name.

‘Now you be a good girl, and we’ll go and visit Granddad.’

The girl’s eyes flickered at the mention of the man with the big horses and big trees. She wandered along, sucking the toffee. She did not smile, but neither did she scream or howl, Gwen noted.

Strictly speaking, there was no need to pass the park. They could have got to Septimus’s house more quickly by taking the route by the cemetery and the Methodist chapel.

‘Are you tired, Lucy? Why don’t we have a bit of a breather? It’s a long way to Granddad’s, and you’re only a little mite …’ The girl merely continued to open and close her thumb and fingers like pincers, experimenting with the stickiness of the toffee residue. Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen saw Isabel on the bench. ‘You run ahead now, that’s a good girl. You run to the bench and I’ll follow.’ The child did not run, but ambled, dragging her rag doll along the ground. Gwen kept her distance and watched.

Isabel blinked. ‘Lucy? Sweetheart!’ she exclaimed, and gathered her into her arms before it occurred to her to see how she’d got there.

‘Mamma!’ cried the child, gripping her tightly.

Isabel turned and at a distance saw Gwen, who gave a nod, as if to say ‘Go on.’

Whatever the woman was doing or why, Isabel did not care. She wept as she hugged the girl and then held her at arms’ length to see her better. Somehow, despite everything, perhaps Lucy could still be hers. A warmth spread through her at the idea.

‘Oh, you’ve got thin, little one! You’re skin and bone. You must be a good girl and eat. For Mamma.’ Gradually she took in the other changes to her daughter: hair parted on the other side; a dress made of fine muslin sprinkled with daisies; new shoes with butterflies on the buckles.

Relief swept over Gwen to see her niece’s response. She was watching a completely different child, suddenly safe with the mother she loved. She left them together for as long as she dared, before approaching. ‘I’d better take her now. I wasn’t sure you’d be here.’

‘But – I don’t understand …’

‘It’s all so dreadful. So hard on everyone.’ She shook her head and sighed. ‘My sister’s a good woman, really she is. She’s been through so much.’ She nodded in the child’s direction. ‘I’ll try to bring her again. I can’t promise. Be patient. That’s all I’m saying. Be patient and perhaps …’ She left the sentence hanging. ‘But please, don’t tell anyone. Hannah wouldn’t understand. She’d never forgive me … Come on now, Lucy,’ she said, and held her arms out to the girl.

The child clung to Isabel. ‘No, Mamma! Don’t go!’

‘Come on, sweet thing. Be good for Mamma, won’t you? You need to go with this lady now, but I’ll see you again soon, I promise.’

Still the child clung. ‘If you’re good now, we can come again,’ smiled Gwen, pulling her carefully away.

Some remnant of the rational stopped Isabel from acting on the impulse to snatch the child away. No. If she could be patient, the woman had promised to bring her again. Who knew what else might change with time?

It took Gwen a long while to calm her niece. She cuddled her, and carried her, taking every opportunity to distract her with riddles and snatches of nursery rhymes. She wasn’t sure yet how she would make her plan work, but she simply couldn’t bear to see the poor child kept from her mother any longer. Hannah had always had a stubborn streak, and Gwen feared it was blinding her now. She wondered how likely it was that she could keep the meeting from Hannah. Even if she couldn’t, it was worth trying. When Grace had finally quietened down, Gwen asked, ‘Do you know what a secret is, sweetheart?’

‘Yes,’ she mumbled.

‘Good. So we’re going to play a game about secrets, OK?’

The little girl looked up at her, waiting to understand.

‘You love Mamma Isabel, don’t you?’