There was a click as the operator ended the call.

Olivia replaced the receiver and relayed the conversation to Maude.

‘Never mind waiting until morning – best to strike while the iron’s hot. Besides, I’ll be a bag of nerves till I know what’s what, as will you, so get back on that phone quick before someone else wants to use it,’ said Maude.

Olivia glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was seven o’clock. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be calling?’

Maude shook her head. ‘They don’t shut up shop like a business – they’re open round the clock.’

‘But what will I say?’

‘Tell them you’re trying to trace a child that was brought in on Christmas Eve in 1923, then go from there.’

Olivia put her head in her hands. She had been about to ask Maude how she could be sure her father had taken the baby to the orphanage on the same day she had given birth, but she knew the answer: he would want to be rid of the child as soon as possible. She picked up the phone again and asked to be connected to the orphanage.

There was a moment’s pause before the operator’s voice came back down the line. ‘Sorry, dear, but that number is no longer in use.’

Despite her worries over what to say, Olivia was disappointed to hear her attempts had been scuppered once more. She thanked the operator before hanging up and turning back to Maude.

‘It’s closed down,’ she said simply.

‘Oh, damn and blast,’ said Maude, ‘talk about dead ends.’

‘I’m beginning to think I should leave well alone,’ said Olivia miserably. ‘I seem to hit a stumbling block at every turn.’

‘We could always ask that cook, the one who told us about Greystones in the first place. She might know what happened to the children.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Olivia, disheartened. ‘I can’t see she could tell us anything useful.’

‘It’s got to be worth a shot,’ Maude urged. ‘You never know what might crop up. Besides, what harm can it do?’

Olivia sighed. ‘All right, but I’m not getting my hopes up. I’m sick and tired of having them repeatedly dashed.’

They went back to the cookhouse, but the cook in question was serving a long line of hungry customers. ‘We can’t talk to her now,’ said Maude. ‘How about we come back in an hour or so when things have calmed down a little?’

Olivia nodded. ‘Sounds like a good idea. I don’t fancy every Tom, Dick and Harry listening to my business.’ She hesitated. ‘On the other hand, how are we to know where she’ll be in an hour? For all we know, she might finish her shift in five minutes and be off round town.’