Page 36 of The Stolen Child

Doddington Estate, Battersea Park Road, London

‘It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll fill ya up all the same,’ Elsie said, placing a bowl of steaming hot vegetable soup before Sally. ‘Go on. Dig in, and don’t be shy.’

Sally didn’t wait to be told twice. She blew on her spoon, but was too impatient to let the liquid cool down. It was too hot, but so good.

‘Best soup I’ve had,’ Sally gushed as she dived in for a second spoonful.

‘Not sure that’s true, but when you’re Hank Marvin everything tastes good.’

Elsie buttered two slices of bread with margarine, opened a tin of spam and cut a thick slice off, placing it between the bread. ‘Here. Have this too. And slow down, treacle. There’s no rush.’

‘Did you make this?’ Sally asked.

Elsie nodded. ‘If you go down to the Co-op in the evenings, they reduce all the fresh produce to half price. I grab whatever vegetables they have, throw them in a pot with a stock cube, and Bob’s your uncle. That’s dinner for a couple of days.’

‘I’ll try that too. Thanks for the tip,’ Sally said.

She felt nostalgia hit her as she remembered hundreds of bowls of soup eaten in the dining room at the orphanage. She’d not appreciated the hot meals she’d always had in front of her back then.

‘Do you miss Sunshine House?’ Sally asked. She wanted to ask her friend so many questions, but, more than anything, Sally needed to know why Elsie had disappeared from her life. For now, though, she decided to stick with the easy ones.

Elsie cut her sandwich in half and dunked a piece into her soup. Her brow furrowed for a moment. ‘I never thought I’d say this, but I missed the food. And I missed you, Sally.’

Sally reached down and pinched her thigh. She felt like she was dreaming, sitting here with Elsie again. Elsie cocked her head to one side as if waiting for a difficult question. But Sally couldn’t find the words, and the moment passed.

‘How you coping out here?’ Elsie asked, nodding towards the world outside their flats.

‘It’s not what I thought it would be like when I left the home.’ Sally admitted.

‘Never is. Bet you thought you’d be the bee’s knees, living it large in the big bad world. But instead, you’re skulking around bins, looking for scraps.’ Elsie said, not unkindly.

‘I’ve almost run out of money.’ Sally admitted in a small voice, realising there was little point in bravado.

Elsie nodded in sympathy. ‘I remember that feeling. It took me less than a week to run out of cash when I arrived here. You’re barking up the wrong tree if you think I can help you with that. I barely have enough to make ends meet myself,’ Elsie said. ‘But I won’t see you hungry. I promise you that.’

Sally quickly raised her hands. ‘You’ve done more than enough with this. I’m not begging, I swear. I want to work, but nobody wants me. I thought I had a shot in a hardware shop earlier today in Wandsworth – until they asked me my address.’

Elsie rolled her eyes. ‘Nobody wants the residents of the Battersea slums.’

‘I’ve been to the dole office and filled out an application for unemployment benefit. But it will be a couple of weeks before it comes through. I don’t know what to do.’ Sally whispered. ‘Should I call Mrs Burton?’

Elsie snorted, ‘There’s no point doing that, Treacle. Once she dropped you here, that’s her job done. Now the rest is up to you.’ She looked Sally up and down. ‘Have you ever thought about cleaning?’

‘We all had jobs in the orphanage. I know how to mop a floor.’

‘I’m not promising anything, but I’ll see if I can get you a few shifts with my cleaning crew. One of the girls is pregnant and went into labour last night. With a bit of luck, they won’t have replaced her yet. Fair warning: money is a pittance. And it’s back-breaking, all-night work.’

Sally felt her heart flutter as hope danced its way around her. ‘I don’t mind that. I’ll happily do it.’ She placed her spoon in the empty bowl and licked her lips. ‘That’s the first time I’ve felt full in weeks.’

Elsie smiled. ‘I’m glad of that. And I promise you won’t be hungry at least, not with me around.’

Sally smiled shyly and found the courage to ask, ‘Elsie, why did you stop writing?’

Elsie sighed and looked out of the flat window, avoiding eye contact. ‘It’s a long and sorry story that maybe I’ll tell you one day. I suppose the easiest way to explain it is that things got dark for me for a while. And you’re a pure bright white light, Sally. Always have been. I had to step back, so I didn’t spread my darkness to you. But I never stopped thinking about you. And I’m happy to see you today. Truly.’

Sally’s eyes glistened, thinking about the possible hardships her friend had encountered without her. She reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand, and for a moment they sat there, looking at each other happily.

‘Right, you need to get some rest. Me too. Then meet me here at six this evening. I’ll have something ready for us both before I bring you to meet my gaffer. Cyril’s all right, as it goes.’