“Exactly. As you can see, we are very busy,” she said brightly. “You will have to come back then.”

“But I can’t wait that long.” Alice was trying to stay calm, keep her voice even.

“That’s what they all say, but believe me, my dear, two weeks won’t seem that long at all.” Miss Swift laid a dainty hand on Alice’s arm. “Once you’ve registered for a child, it could take months or even years to find one, so you will need plenty of patience.”

“But I don’t want someone else’s baby,” Alice said loudly, her voice fracturing. “I want mine . . . and she’s been stolen.”

Miss Swift glanced at the horrified couples on the chesterfields. “Excuse me,” she said to them, “we shan’t be a minute,” and she ushered Alice into her office. She closed the door behind them and stood in front of Alice, her arms folded, manner still composed. “I don’t want a scene in the middle of my waiting room. These people are very vulnerable and have been through years of anxiety in their quest to become parents. Now, I don’t know exactly what you think we can do to help you, but if your baby is missing then surely it’s a matter for the police.”

“They don’t know anything, but perhaps you do. Where do you get your children from?” Her voice broke. “And the couples you reject; do you know who they turn to for help after they leave here?”

“No. Mrs. . . .”

“Cotton. My name is Alice Cotton.”

Miss Swift scrutinized Alice. “Look, Mrs. Cotton, the children we place with adoptive parents come to us from all sorts of places, but I guarantee that none of them are stolen. Most unmarried mothers willingly give up their babies to us. Of course, some have second thoughts, but I’m afraid to say that in most cases it’s too late.”

Alice shook her head disbelievingly: the one place she thought she might receive help, and she wasn’t even being listened to.

“It’s perfectly understandable if you’ve changed your mind. Parting with your baby is difficult under any circumstances, but you have to think about what’s best for the child. Consider why you made the decision to give it up.” Miss Swift enunciated her words so carefully that Alice was almost convinced they were true—until she came to her senses.

“But I didn’t give her up. My mother took her.” She articulated carefully too, so there could be no misunderstanding. “And she’s given her to a couple—paid them to take Eadie, in fact. I need to find them. Will you help me?”

If Miss Swift was shocked, she didn’t show it. Her expression changed, sharp features softening, then she unfolded her arms and stepped closer. “I’m sorry to hear that, Alice. Why do you think your mother would do such a thing?”