eyes on her sister's face, waiting for the slightest flicker that would indicate comprehension and recognition, that would allow her words to stop. "I don't know if you remember it. It was the night after my sixteenth birthday. I..." It was too much. She couldn't. She fought onward. "I stole money from Papa. Did he tell you that? I knew where he kept it, the extra money for the house, so I took it. It was wrong, I know that, but I...I needed to leave. I needed to go away for a while. You know that, don't you?" And then again, seeking reassurance, " Don't you?"
Was the rocking faster now, or was it so only in the imagination of the watchers?
"I went to York. It took me all night. I walked and hitchhiked. I just had that rucksack, you know the one I used to carry my school books in, so I only had one change of clothes with me. I don't know what I was thinking about, running away like that. It seems crazy now, doesn't it?" Gillian smiled briefly at her sister. She could feel her heart hammering. It was becoming quite difficult to breathe. "I got to York at dawn. I'll never forget the sight of the morning light hitting the Minster. It was beautiful. I wanted to stay there forever." She stopped, put her hands firmly into her lap. The deep scratches showed. It couldn't be helped. "I stayed in York that entire day. I was so frightened, Bobby. I'd never even been away from home for a night by myself, and I wasn't sure I wanted to go on to London. I thought it might be easier if I went back to the farm. But I...I couldn't. I just couldn't."
"What's the point of this?" Jonah Clarence demanded. "How is all this supposed to help Roberta?"
Wary, Lynley glanced at him, but the man settled himself again. His face was rigid, every muscle tight.
"So I caught the train that night. There were so many stops, and at every one of them, I thought that I would be questioned. I thought that Papa might have sent the police after me, or come after me himself. But nothing happened. Until I got to King's Cross."
"You don't need to tell her about the pimp," Jonah whispered. "What's the point?"
"There was a nice man at King's Cross who bought me something to eat. I was so grateful to him. He was such a gentleman, I thought. But while I was eating and he was telling me about a house he had where I could live, another man came into the cafeteria. He saw us. He came up and said, "She's coming with me.' I thought he was a policeman, that he would make me go home again. I started to cry. I hung on to my friend. But he shook me off and ran out of the station." She paused, caught in the memory of that night. "This new man was very different.
His clothes were old, a bit shabby. But his voice was kind. He said his name was George Clarence, that he was a minister, and that the other man had wanted to take me to Soho to...to take me to Soho," she repeated firmly. "He said he had a house in Camden Town where I could stay."
Jonah remembered it all so vividly: the ancient rucksack, the frightened girl, the scuffed shoes and tattered jeans she wore. He remembered his father's arrival and the conversation between his parents. The words "pimp from Soho...didn't even understand... looks like she hasn't slept at all..." echoed in his mind. He remembered watching her from the breakfast table where he'd been dividing his time between scrambled eggs and cramming for a literature test.
She wouldn't look at anyone. Not then.
"Mr. Clarence was very good to me, Bobby. I was like part of his family. I...I married his son Jonah. You'd love Jonah. He's so gentle. So good. When I'm with him, I feel as if nothing could ever...nothing ever again," she concluded.
It was enough. It was what she had come to do. Gillian looked at the psychiatrist beseechingly, waiting for direction from him, for his nod of dismissal. He merely watched her from behind the protection of his spectacles. They winked in the light. His face told her nothing, but his eyes were very kind.
"There. That's it. It's done nothing," Jonah concluded decisively. "You've brought her up here to this all for nothing. I'm taking