Sophie clung to her phone, hoping that her grandma had not been thorough.
A few minutes later, the receiver was picked back up. ‘That’s a funny story, you know, Sophie. I was going to throw it out, and then I got a call from the woman down the road here. Her cat got out, and it worried her, and we all went out to look for it.’
Sophie held her breath, hoping Gran would get to the point.
‘Anyway, we didn’t find it. It came back on its own two days later. Stupid thing. Well, during that time, I put that letter in a bag by the door to take out to the rubbish and forgot all about it. It’s here, dear. Did you still want to see it?’
‘Yes, please, Gran, don’t throw it out. I’m coming over in the next hour.’
‘Oh, okay. Are you sure you want to come all this way? There’s not much in it. I read through it.’
‘Please, Gran, I need to see it.’
‘All right, love. If you’re insistent. It will be lovely to see you. I think I’ll bake some scones. See you in a bit, then, Sophie.’ Her gran put down the phone.
Grabbing her coat and bag and leaving right away, she started to piece together in her mind everything she’d learned. Vivienne had gone out to France with SOE and had been on a failed mission. Somehow she had met Marcus at the hospital and nursed him, and together they’d gone to France. She did something unfathomable and the man who was supposed to love her had killed her for it. But that he’d killed her at all still raised a question mark. Sophie hadn’t been able to find that out, and she knew this was clinging to a sliver of hope. Though surely, if there were something in the letter that proved Vivienne’s innocence, the rumours would have been quashed years before.
Getting the train over to her grandmother’s, she felt the stress of the last few weeks and desperately wanted to finalise this mystery. On arriving at her gran’s flat, she tried not to appear too eager as Bessy talked about the weather and her washing. She already had her ironing board set up in her kitchen, and the smell of the freshly baked scones wafted from a plate on the table.
‘Sit yourself down. I’ll make a cup of tea,’ Bessy said. ‘You get going on one of those scones.’
‘Gran, I’d love to, but I don’t have long.’
‘Yes, dear, of course. I should make you a ham sandwich.’
‘Gran, the letter!’ she said, trying not to sound frantic. ‘You have the letter?’
‘Oh, yes, of course. Let me go get it.’
Bessy went into a hallway closet and rustled through a plastic bag with rubbish in it, and as she searched, she mused about it. ‘I shouldn’t get your hopes up too high, love. There’s not much in there. I don’t think it’s going to change anything you already know. Not even sure why your grandad kept it. But for some reason he would never let me throw it out. I think he had some sort of latent childhood hope that, even years later, she would turn up and put everything right. Funny what we hold onto… Here it is!’ she suddenly announced.
She pulled out a handwritten letter in her aunt’s scrawl and placed it on the table in front of Sophie, then busied herself around the kitchen, making her granddaughter a sandwich.
Eagerly, Sophie picked up the yellowing envelope with the faded script and pulled out an aged sheet of paper. It was dated the day before Vivi had left England with Marcus.
Dearest John and darling Tom,
I hope this letter finds you well. And by now, I will no longer be there. I cannot tell you everything I am doing, but I want you to know that I love you both so very much. There are things right now that are bigger than all of us, and I need the two of you to be brave and courageous and help Daddy in the hospital there. Many people there need help and are sick, and I won’t be there, as I have to do something important right now.
I hope you will take special care of the gifts that I gave you. I chose them especially for you both. They’re very important to me.
Tom, I painted that for you because I know you love birds. But the sparrow also has a very significant meaning