tears, recognizing that Mackenzie spirit. Annie pulled out two skipping ropes and handed one to Abigail so they could play. All at once, the sun broke through the clouds, and Annie’s hair became a flaming halo around her head. She was telling Abigail a very animated story, and they both giggled as they skipped. This was all that Lizzie needed. She wasn’t sure why it was so vital for her to know Annie was okay, maybe because she herself had never felt okay. There’d been so much pain and sadness the last time she’d seen her. Annie had been frozen in Lizzie’s mind at that age, and she’d had this terrible fear that Lizzie had broken her irrevocably and the loss and sadness that Lizzie had always felt had somehow stained her daughter.
But Lizzie knew now, she knew she could move on, knew she could close the door on this part of her life and not worry about it. This little girl, her daughter, was happy.
As they were going, Lizzie promised to bring Abigail again to play with Annie another day, and the little red-haired girl ran up to her and threw her arms around her and hugged her. As Lizzie’s arms were filled with the young person who had left them so deprived, it took all of her control not to burst into tears and never let her go. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of completeness, the tiny feather-like heart beating against her chest, the candy floss of hair so similar to her own brushing her cheek. She must have squeezed her a little too long, as her daughter wriggled out from beneath her grip, and ran to say goodbye to Abigail. As Lizzie said goodbye, she felt at peace. A huge part of her heart was reconciled and something stirred deep within it, something she hadn’t felt in a while: a glimmer of hope.
44
It was two weeks later, and as soon as Lizzie opened her eyes that morning, she felt the sinking feeling she’d been dreading. Slipping out of bed so as not to disturb Abigail, she went to the window and peeled back a corner of the blackout curtains. Lizzie took a deep breath to prepare herself. Since losing Jack, which was still so painful, she could barely breathe when she thought of it. Having the love of Abigail had been her only solace.
Looking down Julia’s garden past the Anderson shelter towards the centre of London, Lizzie noted the city was still smoking from the night before. A rather brutal attack in the Mansion House area had come as a shock after a few days without being bombed. They had all hoped that maybe the constant onslaught was over, but that was not to be.
Lizzie thought back; it had been the week before when a somewhat official-looking lady from the WVS had stood on her doorstep to inform her that Abigail was being sent away. As soon as Lizzie had established Abigail’s true identity, she had told the authorities in case she still had family somewhere. But no one had come forward. Abigail appeared to be alone in the world.
‘All our children are being sent to the country now,’ the stern woman had told her the week before, ‘and because your charge is an orphan, as we have been unable to find any living relatives, we have an orphanage in Wales that will be taking our children from the city. So we need you to take Abigail to Paddington Station next week at this time.’
The woman handed Lizzie a piece of paper as Lizzie tried to protest. ‘Surely Abigail is safe here with me?’
‘I think Abigail,’ retorted the woman, ‘is better served in the place where she can be rehomed with a family, with a mother and a father.’
Lizzie felt the snub. The abrupt way the woman phrased it made it pretty obvious that she didn’t think that Lizzie was a proper guardian for her young charge.
‘But she’s happy. She’s settled here,’ Lizzie pleaded with her.
‘Nevertheless, this is the law,’ said the woman as she puckered her lips and rolled back her shoulders. ‘So, we will expect to see you and Abigail at the station next week, and I’ll bid you a good day.’ And she was gone.
Lizzie had sat looking at that piece of paper and felt the terrible loss. Abigail had become so much a part of their family now. The littlest member of a group of four women, all surviving together.