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for a reason, surely? Perhaps I can help,’ Maggie offered although for the life of her she didn’t know how.

      ‘You can help by taking absolutely no notice of my ramblings.’

      But the image of Elsa that Maggie had conjured in her mind persisted. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the young woman she had befriended was still there, hiding in the corners of Mrs Milton’s mind, still frightened of the future, still needing her help. ‘And if you find yourself at the lakeside again?’

      When Elsie spoke, it was in the barest whisper and had echoes of Elsa. ‘Don’t try to save me.’

      Maggie’s skin crawled. She reached over and this time took hold of Elsie’s hand firmly in her own. Elsie’s fingers were icy cold, the flesh slightly sagging and her arthritic joints swollen and gnarled. Little wonder Maggie had recoiled when she had taken hold of Elsa’s hand in the park, expecting the taut, delicate skin of youth. ‘I can’t promise you that.’

      ‘Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up next to the man you’ve been married to for fifty-odd years and think an intruder has found his way into your bed? Can you imagine how terrifying that is for me and for him too?’

      ‘No, I can’t. But if you jump into that lake then I promise you, here and now, that I’m going to dive straight in and drag you out.’

      There was a moment’s pause as the two women squared up to each other then Elsie sighed. ‘You don’t have to worry – my husband won’t let me out of his sight these days.’

      ‘Is it Freddie waiting for you outside?’ Maggie ventured.

      ‘There is no Freddie,’ came the rather stoic reply.

      Forced to consider that the American had been a figment of her fractured mind just like the swans, Maggie asked, ‘He didn’t exist?’

      ‘Freddie is a ghost from the past that my illness seems intent on bringing back to life. I have to keep reminding myself of who I am and where I am. My name is Elsie; I’ve been married to … Ted … for God knows how many years. I have … I have two daughters,’ she said, faltering as her mind failed to keep up with the sense of conviction she had wanted to convey.

      ‘I still want to help if you’ll let me,’ persisted Maggie. ‘There’s empirical evidence that aromatherapy can help with some of the symptoms you’re experiencing. Are you having any treatment?’

      ‘Why do you think I ran away from Liverpool? I couldn’t be doing with all that. And this could just be a storm in a teacup. My trip to the park was probably a one-off while I get my bearings in a new town.’

      ‘I met you there twice,’ Maggie reminded her. ‘And Alice found you there too.’

      ‘All right, I’m not daft and before that frown of yours gives you premature wrinkles, I’m not in complete denial either. I’ve promised … I’ve promised …’

      ‘Ted?’ Maggie offered and immediately regretted her haste.

      ‘I know my husband’s name. Now, you’ve made me forget what I was saying,’ Elsie said with more than a hint of irritation. ‘I’ve promised Ted I’ll go back to the doctor’s so I don’t need your interference. My Ted will look after me.’

      ‘I’m your friend, remember?’

      When Elsie exhaled, the anger left her body. ‘I wish I’d had someone like you around sixty years ago.’

      The silence that followed, rather than creating an awkward pause, brought a connection that spanned the decades. Maggie still hadn’t asked the burning question but it would take time for Elsie to trust her enough to reveal what had happened to the baby. However, that didn’t stop her from skirting around the edges.

      ‘Do you have any family in Sedgefield?’

      ‘No. My eldest daughter, Nancy, lives in America and Yvonne lives up in Scotland. As for the rest of my family, I only have a brother left now and he’s in his seventies. I do have plenty of nieces and nephews though, some close enough to be called upon if needs be.’

      ‘And you have me, not sixty years ago but now. Please do go to see the doctor but that doesn’t mean you can’t come here too for some complementary therapy. In fact, you might want to try this cream,’ Maggie said, jumping up so fast it made Harvey start. She quickly found the jar she was after and checked the label, which was written in Braille as well as print. ‘You can apply it to your arms, neck and chest before bedtime to help improve your sleep patterns or you could use it during the day to keep your thoughts clear. It contains lavender and lemon balm,’ she explained, undoing the lid.

      ‘I prefer lilacs,’ Elsie said without taking the proffered jar.

      ‘I’ve noticed but I’m afraid lilac isn’t widely used as an essential oil. It’s very expensive and even the lilac perfume you wear will be made from a synthetic scent rather than a natural oil.’

      Maggie heard a surreptitious sniff; Elsie was checking the remnants of her perfume on her wrist. ‘It was my Aunt Flo who introduced me to lilacs. I stayed with her when I was last in Sedgefield and I can remember back to that time as if it was yesterday. She could walk into this room right now and I wouldn’t bat an eyelid.’ Elsie’s voice trailed off as her mind wandered for a moment but then she sighed. ‘Now, where was I? Ah yes, Flo Jackson. She had lilac trees in her garden and made all kinds of concoctions from the flowers, including soap. I didn’t like it at first but I’d be lost without my perfume now, even if it’s not quite the same as the one the old lady used.’ Elsie laughed to herself. ‘Listen to me talking about an old lady. I sometimes forget I’m one myself.’

      Maggie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Well, I can’t claim to be another Flo Jackson but if this one doesn’t help then there are other recipes to try or I could always acquire some lilac oil if you really wanted it.’

      Elsie didn’t respond immediately and Maggie felt herself being scrutinised. ‘My instincts still work no matter what state my mind’s in and they tell me you’re a good person, Maggie.’

      ‘I try to be.’

      ‘And you’ll make a good mother. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’

      ‘You remember me telling you how scared I am about becoming a mum?’

      ‘No, I’m afraid not,’ Elsie said although there was something in her voice that made Maggie think she did, even if her mind failed to register the fact. ‘It was your friend outside.’

      ‘Kathy?’

      ‘She went to great lengths to tell me how capable you are and how anyone who dares to suggest that you wouldn’t make a wonderful mother would have her to answer to. She talked quite a lot, probably to drown out the noise of you torturing that poor girl who was in here. Is she all right, by the way?’

      ‘Jenny? Yes, she’ll be fine. It’s good to have that emotional release now and again, especially in a safe environment with someone you trust,’ Maggie explained. ‘She’s actually my closest friend and despite appearances, she’d say the same about me.’

      ‘Once she stops sobbing,’ added Elsie.

      Maggie could feel herself relaxing and would have been happy to chat some more but she heard the plastic chair squeak one last time as Elsie hauled herself up. ‘I’d better get going before Ted starts fretting.’

      ‘Will you come and visit me again? We could make another appointment for you now if you’d like?’

      Elsie didn’t answer immediately and Maggie willed the old lady to reach out to her, but without the park bench to unite them, Elsie’s determination to keep her distance was too strong. ‘Let’s see how I get on with this cream first,’ she said with a groan as she straightened her back. ‘Who knows? It might be a miracle cure.’

      Maggie took the jar and, tightening the lid, popped it into a paper bag.

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