Page 210 of The Silent Appeal

Page List
Font Size:

Mum! AFTER THE PLAYS.

Message exchange between Nicky-Rose Dearing and Trina Neale on June 2, 2025:

6:36 p.m. Nicky-Rose wrote:

Thursday. 6 p.m. Squires coffee shop. High Street, Lower Lockwood.

6:36 p.m. Trina wrote:

You’ll be there?

6:37 p.m. Nicky-Rose wrote:

No, but my runner will be.

6:37 p.m. Trina wrote:

Your runner? WTF is that?

6:38 p.m. Nicky-Rose wrote:

You’ll order a latte and sit with her. She’ll finish her drink, collect the cash, and hand over the docs. You’ll stay there for ten minutes, then leave.

6:40 p.m. Trina wrote:

Who is this runner? What the fuck does she know? Meet me yourself!

6:41 p.m. Nicky-Rose wrote:

She’s no one and knows nothing. That’s the whole point. Your betrayal almost killed me and easily could have. I do not and never will forgive you. I vowed back in Bridgetown that I would never again be in the same room as you.

6:42 p.m. Trina wrote:

Don’t start this again. It’s all about money with you.

6:42 p.m. Nicky-Rose wrote:

It’s all about Thursday. Squires. 6 p.m.

To: Sally-Ann Taccuso

From: Fran Elroy-Jones

Date: June 2, 2025

Subject: Georgia

Dear Mrs. Taccuso,

You don’t know me, but your lovely daughter Georgia is currently staying in my flat and is helping out backstage at my amateur drama group.

I hope you don’t think I’m prying into your business, but I understand you asked her to leave the family home last Christmas. Whatever she may tell you, I know she must be missing her mum terribly and I’m writing to you now to see if you might consider taking her back once the play is over (at the end of this week).

She is most distraught at being alone so close to the birth of her first baby. She needs her mother at a time like this, and I would hate for you to miss the chance to welcome your new grandchild personally.

I have counseling experience and am very happy to mediate between you. I won’t mention this email to Georgia, in case you do not wish to heal the rift between you, and it causes her further anguish.

Yours sincerely, Fran Elroy-Jones