Mary tried to smile. ‘I’ll be backin a moment.’
Edith smiled and sat in one of thearmchairs, fretting over her sister’s reaction to her arrival. Mary washardly excited to see her. It’s understandable, she toldherself. I arrived here with no warning—of course she’s going to besurprised and a little taken aback. Edith knew that she needed toback off a little and give Mary time.
Mary returned carrying a tray with a potof tea, two cups and saucers and a plate of sandwiches. ‘They’re turkeywith cranberries from Maine—not sure if you’re hungry.’
Edith smiled and picked up asandwich. ‘Only a bit peckish. They put on a full Christmas dinneron the ship. Magnificent thing—the RMS Celtic II, it was called. You wouldn’t believe the size of it, Mary.’
Mary sat down in the armchair besideEdith, perching on the edge of her seat as she poured the tea. Edithwatched her sister’s shaky hands and wondered at her nervousness. ‘Areyou okay?’ she asked.
Mary tried to smile again. ‘Yes,’she answered feebly.
An awkward silence sat like a heavy cloudbetween the sisters. Mary knew that she was standing at a deep chasm withher past thundering towards her like a pack of unstoppable wild beasts. If she was going to have a future, she needed to turn and face the past. Only then could she make the leap to her future. ‘So, how did you findme?’
Edith took a sip of tea, then exhaledslowly before beginning. ‘After a lot of searching. Years ofprivate detectives found nothing. Then the answer came suddenly fromJoshua. He—’
‘Joshua?’ Mary interjected.
‘Sorry—my husband—Joshua Leyden, thedoctor—’
‘You married him?’ Maryblurted. ‘But he…’ She couldn’t finish her sentence as hot tearswelled in her eyes and her throat closed to the words she needed to say. Thatman…
‘I know what he did now, Mary,’ Edithsaid, placing a hand on her sister’s leg. ‘But I didn’t know it when wemarried. I thought he was a decent man when we got together; I loved himand I thought he loved me. We had several years of happiness but his drinkingjust got worse and worse and then one night he just announced that Cecil andPhiladelphia Mansfield were raising a child that you had given birth to. I couldn’t believe it, Mary—I really couldn’t. He wouldn’t tell me anymore that night and I knew he’d only reveal things if he was drunk.’ Edith stopped and took a sip of tea. ‘So, the next night I plied him witha bottle of whisky and then he opened up with the vile truth about what hadhappened—that you’d given birth to twins. Is it really true, Mary? That Caroline took the other one? Is Rebecca really not hers?’
Mary couldn’t take it any longer and sheburst into tears. Years of holding in the horrible truth came floodingout, as if an emotional dam had just ruptured inside her.
‘I’m sorry, Mary—this must be so painful,’she said, leaning over and placing her arm around her sister. ‘I’m sosorry.’
Mary started to speak, but the wordswouldn’t come. She needed to ask all the questions that had tried tobubble to the surface over the years, but that she had quickly stifled. She took a deep breath. Now that Edie was here, she had to do this. ‘Yes it's true. My children were taken from me...’
‘Oh, Mary. Why ever didn't you tellme?’
‘I just couldn't. Does she knowyou’re here? Caroline, I mean.’
Edith shook her head. ‘Nobodydoes. I left Charles with Mum and Dad and told them I was going onholiday.’
Mary wiped her eyes. ‘Who’sCharles?’
Edith smiled. ‘He’s my son—yournephew. That’s how I know you can come back to your old life, Mary. You don’t need to hide away as Martha any longer – eventually nobody mindedabout me having Charles.’
Mary was confused. ‘But why wouldthey—you’re married—to a doctor at that.’
‘I wasn’t at the time,’ Edith said. ‘And he’s not Joshua’s boy, either.’
Mary met her sister’s gaze, her eyesimploring her to continue.
Edith’s head slumped down. ‘He was theresult of one mistaken evening. It was a desperate time. You’d beenmissing for several months. I’d been out looking for you and came back toWinchelsea upset at yet another failed search. That was when I bumpedinto Walter and he took me for a drink. One thing led to another…’
Mary withdrew her hand from Edith’s inshock, praying that she had misheard. ‘Walter?’
Edith nodded. ‘Walter Risler.’
Another rush of emotion surged out of Maryin a painful wail. ‘No, Edie, no!’
‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Edie said, tryingto calm her sister.
‘He…he…he was the one who kept me in thefolly,’ she cried.
Edith pulled Mary in tightly. ‘I’msorry,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t know. He was so nice to me…’
The pain of discovering her twin’sinadvertent complicity in the dark days of her pregnancy clouded and fogged herthoughts. Another sister tangled in the complications of 1911.
‘Why did you up and leave, Mary? Ifyou’d just told me we could have kept the twins,’ Edith said quietly. ‘Iwould have helped you.’
‘No, Edie—I couldn’t have kept them—Iwould have ended up in the workhouse, just like Gran. That’s no place toraise two babies. Caroline said that the boy would have the best lifeimaginable with them and that I could help her raise Rebecca in Bristol, sothat was what I opted for. She said she had discussed it with Mum andDad.’
Edie shook her head in anger. ‘Thatwoman! I can assure you they have absolutely no idea that Rebecca isn’thers. Honestly, I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve seenher and Rebecca since you left…I understand why you would want to run away fromher.’
‘But that’s just it, Edie, I had nochoice. When we got to Bristol Caroline said it would be less scandalousif she said that the baby was hers. It was just about feasible withWilliam’s death in January. I agreed just so I would at least get to seemy daughter every day, but then she made life so unbearable for me and prettywell stopped me from seeing Rebecca.’
‘Why didn’t you just take Rebecca andrun? Back home…or somewhere to make a fresh start?’ Edie asked, softlystroking Mary’s back.
‘I thought about—I really did…and I wishnow that I had but I was scared stiff, Edie—terrified of
