She was sure she heard Deirdre reply, ‘There is no party, darling. It’s just us.’ And in that moment she knew she had made a huge mistake in trusting them. She wanted to scream, to put up a struggle. She longed to be at home with her mum and Uncle Leo and Heather, huddled on the sofa with Goldie on their laps. But her body felt too heavy, her mind fuzzy.

And this time she was unable to prevent her eyelids from closing.

Chapter 50

50

Margot

Tears stain Heather’s face and Margot thinks her daughter looks young and vulnerable in the huge hospital bed, her legs drawn up so that she’s hugging her knees under the covers. ‘I never gave up hope that she was alive somewhere,’ she says.

Gary Ruthgow is perched on a chair on the other side of the bed to Margot. She was surprised when the hospital staff allowed him to talk to Heather at this time of night. But Heather had readily agreed, hungry for any news of Flora. Margot has a pager in her hand, given to her by Flora’s doctor, who promised to let her know if there is any news on her elder daughter.

Margot stays silent as she holds Heather’s hand for reassurance. After all these years she’s finally going to learn the truth.

It was the ring that did it.

‘I’d been cleaning Deirdre’s caravan when I saw it,’ explains Heather. ‘It was nestled among Deirdre’s cheap costume jewellery. I picked it up and compared it to my own – it was exactly the same. And I knew, then, that it was Flora’s. So I took it. It wasn’t until she checked out the next day that I had the courage to ring her up at home – she’d left her number when she made the booking so I knew where to reach her. It was a Bristol number. I know now it was the Southville address.

‘She’d been affronted on the phone when I asked her about the ring, accusing me of stealing. Her defensiveness caused alarm bells to ring. She eventually admitted she’d bought it from a charity shop but I didn’t believe her. The ring – coupled with the dog – made me suspicious. I don’t even know exactly what I thought her involvement was then, just that she must have known something about Flora’s disappearance. And it was the way she acted around me too. There was something odd about her. While she was staying she’d been too interested in the caravan park. And in me. She stared at me a lot. I don’t know, in retrospect I wondered if, on some level, she wanted me to find out.’

‘Deirdre had cancer,’ says Ruthgow, matter-of-factly. ‘It was terminal. So maybe she was trying to find some kind of redemption.’