Chapters (70)
- About the Author
- Also by Ruth Hogan
- Title Page
- Imprint Page
- How to use this eBook
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Contents
- The Promise
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- A few thoughts and more than a few thanks
- A Word About Our Covers
- Endmatter page 1
Billie had thought about little else since her trip to Brighton. She had gone over and over Imelda’s words in her head, analysing them for any cryptic clues, but if there had been any, they remained as indecipherable to her as MI5 Clive’s elastic bands.
‘She told me that I was found in the doorway to her fortune teller booth on the promenade, and that it was very early in the morning and nobody saw anything.’
Julia had returned to her dinner and was twirling spaghetti around her fork. ‘Who was it that found you?’
This was one of the things that had puzzled Billie and that she had fretted over like a kitten with a ball of wool ever since she had found out. Not the fact itself, but Imelda’s obvious reluctance to divulge it.
‘She did. Madame Burova – Imelda.’
‘So why didn’t she tell you that in her letter?’
‘I don’t know. I’m not sure she would have told me at all if I hadn’t pressed her. It was only when I asked her how she knew my dad, my real dad – oh God, this is so complicated – Dad here, that she confessed.’
‘But why wouldn’t she want you to know?’
‘Again, I have no idea. But she said that after she had called the authorities and they came to pick me up, she asked if someone could let her know what happened to me. She wanted to make sure that I was okay, and apparently when I was adopted, that message somehow got through to my dad and he wrote to her. She also made sure that they knew my name was Billie.’
Julia slammed her hands down onto the table, making the cutlery jump. ‘I’ve got it!’
Annie rolled her eyes. ‘Julia has a theory, God help us. Come on then, let’s have it.’
‘Madame Burova is your mother!’
The thought had crossed Billie’s mind more than once, and even Annie didn’t dismiss it out of hand.
‘It’s certainly a possibility,’ she conceded. ‘It would explain why she’s been so cagey with the details, and why she was so concerned about your wellbeing. But is she wealthy enough to dish out so much money, and if she is your mother, why wouldn’t she want you to know now?’
Julia was eager to back up her theory. ‘Because she’s ashamed of what she did and can’t face the possibility that you might reject her. She’s trying to make it up to you with the money because that’s something practical that she can do right now to help you without revealing the truth. Maybe she’s hoping that if you get to know her, and whatever her story was back then, the two of you can build a relationship.’