‘Are you really sure that this is what you want to do?’ she said more gently. ‘And have you spoken to George about it?’

Cissie sniffed as she swiped a tear from her cheek. ‘Yes to both questions. It is what I want and George says if it will bring me peace of mind then I should go ahead with his blessing.’

Deep down, Sunday could understand it. Her bitterest regret was that she and Tom had never been blessed with a child of their own, but she could imagine how horrendous it would have been to have that little one snatched away from her. However, she wondered if Cissie had any idea how difficult the path she was about to take might become. For a start-off, many staff would have come and gone at the asylum by now and she doubted there would be anyone still at Hatter’s Hall who remembered Cissie Burns. That would mean there were only the patients’ records to go by, and it was highly unlikely the superintendent would have recorded where the baby went, even if it had survived at birth as Cissie believed.

‘I suppose you think I’m mad, don’t yer?’ Cissie said, grieving. ‘An’ I know I should be grateful for the lovely childer me an’ George have had … but I still feel as if a part o’ me is missin’ even after all this time. If only I could find him, even if he didn’t want to know me. If I could just see him from a distance and know that he’s all right, I reckon I could find a kind of peace. Do you understand?’

‘I think I do.’ Sunday reached out and gripped her hand. ‘But truthfully, I have no idea where you should even start. Let’s talk to my mother when she gets home, shall we? Perhaps she can suggest something.’

Cissie smiled and her face was transformed. She owed her freedom to Lavinia, and would do anything for her. At last she felt ready to begin her search, as she had longed to do for years, and even if that search proved to be unsuccessful, at least she would go to her maker with an easier heart knowing that she had tried to find the dear little soul she had never been able to forget. Back then, she had had no one to call her own, and so from the second she had felt the child quicken inside her she had dreamed of holding him or her in her arms. But it was not meant to be, and from the moment they had torn the little boy away from her, she had felt as if part of her was missing. Now she was ready to try to find him – because the way she saw it, nothing could be worse than not knowing what had become of her son, her firstborn child.

Seeing the conflicting emotions scud across Cissie’s face, Sunday embraced her, saying, ‘Don’t worry, Cissie. If this is what you want, I promise we’ll do all we can to help you,’ and loving her as she did, Cissie knew she could believe every single word that Sunday said.