Page 17 of Strangers in Time

Molly noted her distress and thought it better not to speak further of Mrs. Brand’s loss. “I had some food on the trains.”

“Then perhaps a cup of tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” Molly looked around. “And Mother and Father?”

It took a considerable length of time for Mrs. Pride to answer this simple query. “Your father, bless him, is at work. He’s at the Ministry of Food now. If we knew you were coming, of course he would have met you at the station. He’ll be back in time for dinner, I’m almost sure.” She wrung her hands as she said this, and didn’t look remotely sure of anything.

“And Mother?”

Once more Mrs. Pride didn’t respond right away. “Yes, well, actually your mum’s having a bit of a lie-in. Now, you can have your tea and then we’ll see what’s what, shall we?”

Mrs. Pride took Molly’s coat and hat and hung them up, then flitted out of the room. Molly started to follow her.

Mrs. Pride turned back and said, “I’ll make the tea, dear. If you want to go to your room and put your things away? I’ll be up directly with your cup.”

Molly carried her bag up the stairs. Her room was on the right at the end of the hall. Her parents’ room was on the left just at the head of the stairs. She eyed their door and then leaned over the stair railing. She heard the kettle clattering against the stovetop and imagined she could hear the sharp strike of the match and the whoosh of ignition as Mrs. Pride heated the water.

Molly went over to her parents’ door and listened at the wood. Hearing nothing, she eased the door open and peered in, expecting to see her mother asleep. However, the bed was made and there was no one there. She looked around. The furniture was all the same, at least that she remembered. The square of rug was a bit ragged with a few odd loops of thread sticking up. She saw one of her father’s coats hanging on a peg along with a set of frayed brown braces. The room held a mustiness that she had never noticed before. The light coming through the windows was weak and diffused, throwing all she saw into shadowy relief, which somehow seemed ominous to Molly.

Surely Mrs. Pride had said that her mother was having a lie-in. And where would she be doing that other than in her own bed?

Molly continued to her room, opened the door, and stood there for a few moments taking it all in. Her room was exactly as she had left it, as though time had ceased passing. Lying in the center of her bed was one of her old dolls. And it had something in its hands. She hurried forward and saw that it was a letter. She eagerly unfolded the crisp paper.

It was on the official letterhead of the Ministry of Food.

Dear Molly,

I wish I could have been here to see you when you arrived back from the country. I have been quite busy as of late. I will be home as soon as I can.

With affection,

Your Father

Molly recalled that her father had worked in a position that required frequent trips to the continent. Now he had apparently taken a job with the Ministry of Food, as Mrs. Pride had said.

Yet there had been one puzzling omission in his letter: There had been no mention of her mother.

And Mrs. Pride had said they hadn’t received her letter. So how would her father have even known that she was coming home today?

Her head full of disquieting thoughts, Molly put the paper in her pocket as she heard the whistle of the kettle. She was still putting away the clothes from her bag when the door opened and Mrs. Pride bustled in with her tea, a small jug of milk, and a plate with two thin and cracked biscuits and a spoon.

“Here you are, dear,” she said, setting the cup and plate of biscuits down on the table next to her bed and pouring the milk into the tea and spooning it around. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to have you back home, Molly. So very, very pleased. I mean, I can scarcely believe my eyes.” She handed the cup to her.

Molly smiled and took a sip of her tea. “I, um, found the note from Father.”

Mrs. Pride’s features tensed. “Oh, yes, I suppose you did.”

“I checked Mummy’s room, but no one was there. You said she was having a lie-in?”

“Well, I should have told you that while shewashaving a lie-in, it wasn’t here.”

Molly very carefully set her cup down and, with panic rising in her, said, “Not here?”

Mrs. Pride’s hand flew to her mouth and worried at it a bit with her index finger. “The truth is, dear Molly, that your mother has not been well as of late. She has left here to convalesce at another… place.”

“Place? What place?”

“A sanatorium,” she replied, her gaze now averted from the girl’s.

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