And they agreed?’ Molly asked, amazed her employer would be so kind.

‘Well, they haven’t actually signed on the dotted line, or whatever it is they do, but they’ve agreed in principle. They do realize she’s likely to have a serious setback if she goes to a stranger, and although they pointed out that licensed premises are not the ideal choice of home, they feel the bond you have with her more than makes up for that.’

‘That’s the best news ever,’ Molly gasped. ‘But are you sure about this? It’s a big commitment.’

‘We were rather selfishly thinking you’d do most of the taking care of her,’ Evelyn said, with laughter in her voice. ‘Once the doctors feel she’s fit enough, she’ll go to the primary school, anyway. But it’s mealtimes, after school and weekends that she’ll need you. Obviously, we’ll adjust your hotel duties to fit in. How does that sound?’

‘Marvellous,’ Molly said, suddenly feeling like whooping with joy. ‘I was worried sick about where they would send her. She’s going to be so happy. And so am I.’

‘And she deserves to be. Of course, it won’t be permanent, only till they feel she’s stable and they’ve got the right foster parents for her.’

‘Sister said earlier that there’s a possibility they might discharge us both tomorrow. Will we know then for sure?’

‘Yes, don’t worry. Just ring the hotel if they say you can come home, and Ted will come and get you. You and I will need to pick out some clothes and toys for Petal. I’m looking forward to that.’

‘I’m looking forward to being back at the George,’ Molly said.

‘Not half as much as we’re looking forward to you coming back,’ Evelyn said. ‘All the staff and customers have been pestering us for news. You’ve become quite a celebrity.’

CHAPTER TWENTY

‘Miss Gribble!’ DI Pople snapped at the woman on the other side of the desk. She had closed her eyes, as if to shut him out. ‘You don’t seem to appreciate how much trouble you are in. Murder, abduction, imprisoning and ill-treating a young child and assault and imprisoning an adult. You could hang for this. But, whatever you’ve done, I want to know the reasons for it. It’s only by cooperating with me fully that there is any possibility that you will find some sympathy with a jury when this comes to trial.’

Her eyes opened. ‘I never meant to kill anyone,’ she said woodenly. ‘I was trying to put things right.’

‘I fail to see how any of your actions could be seen as an attempt to put things right,’ DI Pople said. ‘But maybe if you went back to the beginning, from the time of Petal’s birth, and explained how things were then, when, presumably, your mistress, Mrs Coleman, was in full command of her senses, I could understand.’

Miss Gribble had been kept in hospital in a private room for a week after the police had arrested her at Mulberry House. Her facial injuries were not serious but she had lost consciousness and, as she suffered from angina, the doctors felt she should stay under observation, though with a police guard outside the room.

She had refused to say anything while in the hospital: no explanation, no denial, nothing. She wouldn’t even speak to the nurses. On her discharge she was taken back to the police station and a solicitor was called for her, but she still refused to talk. Finally, she was charged with murder and abduction and taken to court, where she was remanded in custody.

Owing to the seriousness of her alleged crimes, she was being held in London’s Holloway Prison, and this was DI Pople’s third visit there to try to get her to talk. But today she seemed to be weakening just a little, enough to make him hopeful.

‘As I understand it, you have been housekeeper, companion and friend to Christabel Coleman for over forty years,’ DI Pople said, trying a different tack. ‘I can understand that you formed a strong bond during that time. You were there when her father was killed in the Great War, you helped Christabel through her mother’s death, the birth of Sylvia and, a few years later, when Mr Coleman, Christabel’s husband, was reported missing, presumed killed in action in the last war, you remained at Mulberry House, still caring for her and protecting her. I would say that you were mother, father, sister and friend to Christabel. Am I right?’

‘Yes. She means everything to me,’ Miss Gribble replied, but she looked at the floor as if she wasn’t in the habit of admitting such a thing.

‘And you’d do anything for her?’

She nodded.

‘You won’t be able to help her at all if they hang you,’ he said. ‘She’ll have to stay in the asylum, and no one will visit her. There’ll be no one to care if they neglect, starve or hurt her.’

Miss Gribble’s head shot up and, suddenly, there was fire in her eyes.

‘She shouldn’t be in there, she did nothing wrong. She won’t last more than a few weeks without my care and attention.’

‘Are you saying you acted alone in tracking down Sylvia? And in killing her and taking Petal? Are you trying to tell me that Christabel didn’t know you were holding her granddaughter in an attic and being cruel to her? Is that what you’re saying?’

The older woman clammed up. She was clearly bright enough to realize that, by insisting Christabel knew nothing of any of it, she would be admitting to having done it all herself.

‘If the psychiatrist at the asylum finds Christabel fit to stand trial, she will be charged jointly with you for these crimes and, although you may escape the noose, you’ll both spend the rest of your days in this prison. You’ll be separated, too. You won’t be able to protect or care for her here.’

Miss Gribble hugged her arms around her and rocked on the chair. She was a very plain, big-boned woman, and her white hair, scragged back in a bunch at the nape of her neck, only served to draw attention to her grey-tinged complexion. DI Pople had seen on her medical record that she was sixty-seven, but she looked strong and her arms were very muscular.

‘What am I to do?’ she bleated out, all her former belligerence gone. ‘Christabel is innocent of any crime, she’s just like a child. She trusted me to do whatever needed doing. Whatever you do to me, she will suffer more.’

‘Tell me the truth about everything and then I can make sure she gets the help she needs,’ DI Pople wheedled. ‘Now tell me why Sylvia ran away with her baby, and how you managed to find her. It must have been hard, as she’d changed her name.’

‘She left because I tried to curb her wildness.’

‘Okay,’ DI Pople said. He guessed this woman had put Sylvia through hell because she’d had an illegitimate mixed race baby. ‘So what made you want to track her down again? Surely the problems you’d had with her when Petal was born would still be the same?’

‘Christabel wanted to see her. I tried to make her see it wasn’t a good idea, but she kept on and on, so in the end I agreed. I got a private detective to find her.’

‘Did it take him long?’

Miss Gribble pulled a face. ‘Yes, the man spun it out in order to take Christabel’s money. His name is Frank Wilson; he was a retired policeman living in Ashford. He died just after he gave me his report. That was back in April 1953, so I expected Sylvia might have moved on from the address he’d given us. But we thought we’d go and see, anyway.’

‘Did you drive?’

‘Yes. Christabel can’t. I learned after her husband went missing.’

‘Any reason you chose Coronation Day?’

‘Yes, I knew the roads would be quiet. But it was much further than I expected.’

‘And the plan was? Just to see Sylvia and Petal, or to bring them back to Mulberry House with you?’

‘To see them, maybe have a little holiday down that way. I didn’t expect Sylvia to come back, she was always strong willed, even as a little girl. But Christabel was sure she would. All the way there she kept talking about redecorating Sylvia’s room, and where the child would go to school. I kept warning her Sylvia wouldn’t come, but she took no notice of me.’