Page 2 of Don't Believe A Word

Lottie was, according to most, beautiful, exotic, adventurous, desired by many men and yet, over the years, she’d spurned them all to remain free, answerable to no one but herself. Should that ever change Lottie knew Mia would do her very best to be happy for her. She often said that no one deserved love more than Lottie, but how would she, Mia, fill the gaps, the veritable chasms, that would open up if Lottie wasn’t there any more?

Poor Mia. She’d never been good at making friends, the way that came so naturally to Lottie. She was too shy to travel alone, something Lottie did often. And she was too cautious to take risks, especially the kind that drove Lottie to help those in perilous states of fear and destitution around the world. She was, she knew, too independent, too wayward and strong-minded to bend to any man’s will and in the end most men didn’t like that.

‘You’re as bad as Mummy,’ she’d grumble whenever Mia loyally, if not convincingly, echoed their mother, ‘thinking, no believing, that no woman is complete without a husband. Do I look unfinished to you? Do I behave as though half of me isn’t functioning? I have sex when I want it, thank you very much, good male friends who spoil me and demand nothing in return, so why would I want to saddle myself with the burden of having to please someone else when it’s so much more fun pleasing me?’

She wasn’t that selfish really, or not all of the time, and as frustrated as she often felt with Mia, she was ready to accept that they were as close as sisters could be, and, to a certain degree, quite interdependent. Their inherited fortune was shared as were their lives, 24/7, when Lottie wasn’t travelling. In fact, they were so attuned to one another’s thoughts and so exclusively in their own world at times that Edwin had once described them as each other’s oxygen – and he hadn’t meant it in a kind way.

By now Lottie had reached a small gap in the hedge at the bottom of their field where the air was saltier and more bracing and the noise of the tide almost drowned the gulls. She pushed on across the gritty sand towards the water’s edge still not entirely certain what she was about to do, and still expecting someone to appear from behind the dyke to whisk the child away.

No one did, and as she came to a stop beside the tiny creature her heart caught on a great wave of feeling. The tiny, damp facetilted up to look at her, big brown eyes swimming in tears and hair plastered to her mottled cheeks. She was as pretty, and as tragic, a picture as Lottie had ever seen. She was trembling and frightened – and clearly lost.

Sinking down to the girl’s height, Lottie said, ‘What are you doing out here on your own? Is someone with you?’

The child only stared at her.

Lottie looked over her shoulder, up and down the coast and even out to sea, but there was no one in sight.

When she turned back the girl was still watching her, lips quivering, eyes timid and tearful. Instinctively Lottie drew her into her arms and felt the pleasing heft of her as she filled the space meant for a child. ‘There, there,’ she soothed, stroking the wet hair and feeling a surge of protectiveness wrap itself around the girl’s loneliness and fragility. ‘It’s all right. I’m going to take care of you.’

The child didn’t pull away, simply rested her sweet little head against Lottie’s shoulder.

‘What’s your name?’ Lottie asked in her ear. Not receiving an answer, she drew back to look at her again. ‘Where’s your mummy?’ she asked softly.

Two small tears dropped from the girl’s eyes.

‘Did she bring you here?’

No answer.

‘Do you know where you live?’

The little girl sucked her lower lip between tiny white teeth.

Lottie glanced up at the house, already knowing she was going to take the child there – what else could she do? Leaving her here simply wasn’t an option and it was a long way into town. To her surprise she saw that Mia was outside, on the terrace and frantically waving. Was she trying to warn her of something? What was she saying? Lottie looked around, but there was still no one to be seen.

‘We’re going to sort this out,’ she told the little girl, and taking her tiny hand she led her across the beach to begin the climb up the hill.

It was too hard going for such small legs, so she scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way. How many children had shecarried to safety in her time, she wondered. Certainly hundreds, but numbers hardly mattered. Each wretched little soul was as special as the next, as worthy as those who’d gone before and still others yet to come.

Mia met them beneath the terrace and quickly took the child into her waiting arms.

‘She’s so lovely,’ she crooned, stroking the girl’s drizzle-soaked cheek with the back of one hand. ‘So sweet and tiny. What’s her name?’

‘I don’t know,’ Lottie replied. ‘Why were you waving?’

Starting, as if suddenly remembering, Mia said, ‘Someone was there. Not far from the stile. They were watching you, but when you picked her up they turned and ran away.’

Lottie looked towards the stile, barely visible through the overhang of trees and tangle of bushes. ‘Male or female?’ she asked, unable to make sense of anything.

‘Hard to be certain at this distance.’ Mia was already carrying the girl onto the terrace. ‘They were wearing a hooded jacket.’

‘Maybe I should pop out to the lane to see if anyone’s still there?’ Lottie said.

Mia nodded, distracted now by her need to dry the child and make her feel safe. Once inside the kitchen she set her down and dropped to her knees in front of her. ‘Are you OK?’ she whispered softly.

The girl’s eyes welled with tears.

‘There, there, sweetheart,’ Mia soothed, wanting to smother her in an embrace, but afraid it might scare her. ‘No need to cry. We’ve got some lovely milk to warm you up, and …’ her eyes brightened playfully, ‘a delicious homemade cookie.’