‘What is this? Twenty questions!’ Cora tutted, shaking her head. ‘You always were a nosey one. Even as a child, with your constant questioning. Drove your father mad, sure it did. Why don’t you concentrate on getting me a drink instead of interrogating me? And I’ve got a tummy ache too so don’t be trying to feed me that foreign muck again … Lasagne doesn’t agree with me.’

Grace went to explain that Cora hadn’t actually eaten any of the lasagne, and besides, that meal had been well over a week ago. But thought better of it and swiftly obliged by fetching a fresh glass and pouring some water. It was only after she had gone back downstairs to make the dinner that she realised Cora hadn’t actually given her a proper explanation as to how things in the room had seemed to move around by themselves.

Chapter 8

The deed is done. Mother and Father have visited me here in Tindledale and have taken my darling baby, Lara, to live with them. They are going to care for her until I am stronger. Mother was most disappointed when I refused the adoption, and said she wants nothing more to do with me if I’m going to be selfish and put my own needs before those of a poor, helpless infant. But Father stepped in and agreed that this is a suitable solution for now, so they have taken a cottage here in the countryside for the duration of the war. The cottage is in the grounds of a country estate on the outskirts of Tindledale which belongs to a friend of Father’s who works for the Home Office so is away much of the time doing important work for the war effort. It’s for the best all round, he says. Lara will be safe there away from Hitler’s bombs in London – Father says it’s only a matter of time before they come and rip the heart out of the capital – and this way, their society friends will be none the wiser as to my predicament.

Losing Jimmy has knocked the wind right out of me, so it is probably for the best to let Lara have the proper care that she needs. She is too tiny to be left crying for milk in her crib all morning while I lie in bed and stare listlessly at the ceiling. But what is the point of living without Jimmy? Lara deserves far better than me. I’m a terrible mother, who cannot even muster up enough energy to feed her own baby, let alone leave my bed and get dressed to take her outside for some fresh air. And Mother says babies must have fresh air if they are to thrive.