The Song She Knew

Vincent caught Lily's shoulder before she could climb onto the hearth.

"Look at me for a moment."

She turned, surprised by his voice.

He loosened his hand.

"I'm sorry. I need you to look carefully. Is that really your mother?"

Lily looked back at the portrait.

"Her hair is longer in the picture. She cut it when it got tangled."

He had stood beside a grave for five Christmases. Five years and five months had passed since the warehouse. He had listened to a priest say Elena's name. Daniel had delivered the identification report while Vincent lay in a hospital bed with a bullet wound and two missing days.

This child could be mistaken. Someone could have shown her photographs. Someone could be using her.

But her wrist bore an adult's fingerprints, and she was still wearing slippers in December.

"When did you last see her?"

Lily looked down at her rabbit.

"Before yesterday. She said she had to get something, and Nanny said we should let her work."

"Two days ago?"

She nodded uncertainly.

He wanted dates, names, addresses. He wanted to shake answers out of the walls.

Lily rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand.

Vincent made himself step away from the fireplace.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"I had crackers."

"Let's find something better."

He took her to the small sitting room adjoining his office. When he called the kitchen for soup, he ordered two bowls because she watched him too closely when he said only one.

She insisted the rabbit sit beside her. Vincent placed a folded napkin beneath its worn body.

"He spills," she explained.

"I'll take my chances."

While she ate, Marco called from the service corridor.

"We found Margaret Bell in the laundry room. Someone locked the outside bolt. She's shaken, but she's all right. She says she's Elena's old nanny."

Vincent remembered a silver-haired woman at their wedding, crying into an embroidered handkerchief. Elena had danced with her before she danced with her father.

"Bring her upstairs. And the painting?"

"Crated by the service tree. Label says restoration pickup. Nobody signed it out. I've put a man on it."

"Leave it where it is. Photograph the label and find out who arranged collection."

He ended the call.

Lily had stopped eating.

"Did you find Nanny?"

"She's coming."

The relief that crossed her face made him feel abruptly ashamed of every question he had asked before checking whether she was hungry.

Margaret entered moments later. Lily dropped her spoon and ran.

The older woman sank into the nearest chair with the child in her arms.

"I told you to stay in the pantry," she whispered.

"She came in. I was scared."

"I know, darling. I know."

Vincent waited until Lily's breathing settled.

"Mrs. Bell. Where is my wife?"

Margaret looked at him over the child's head.

"I hoped you could tell me."

He sat opposite her because standing felt too much like a threat.

"Start with why you're in my house."

"Elena told me to bring Lily to Marco if she hadn't returned by this morning. I used to help your housekeeper at Christmas. I called and asked whether she needed another pair of hands."

"You could have called me."

"I didn't know which calls were safe. Daniel arranged our cottage. He paid the bills. Until two weeks ago, Elena believed he was following your instructions."

Vincent heard Marco inhale behind him.

"What instructions?"

Margaret's hands tightened around Lily.

"That Elena was ill. That she was to stay away from you. That the child was to be kept out of sight."

"And you believed him?"

"I believed Elena when she said they would hurt Lily if I made a mistake."

Anger rose so fast he had to grip his own knee.

Lily looked from one adult to the next. Vincent forced his fingers open.

"Take your time," he told Margaret.

The older woman swallowed.

"Elena got away two weeks ago. She came to the cottage and told me Daniel had lied about you. She needed the original papers he had hidden. She said she would get them, get us somewhere safe, and then come to you."

"But she didn't return."

Margaret shook her head.

Lily began humming into the rabbit's ear.

Three soft notes. A pause. Then the descending line Elena had never sung the same way twice.

Vincent's fingers went cold.

"Where did you learn that song?"

"Mommy sings it when I can't sleep."

Margaret watched him recognize it.

Elena had sung it in hospital after Vincent's first surgery, quietly and badly, forgetting half the Italian words. He had accused her of inventing the rest. She had said the baby wouldn't care.

He had thought she meant some future child.

Lily tilted her head.

"Do you know it?"

"I used to."

"You can do the humming part. That's easier."

He tried. The first note broke in his throat.

Lily moved from Margaret's lap to stand between his knees.

"It's okay. You don't have to be good."

He looked up at Margaret.

"Is she mine?"

Tears slid down the older woman's face.

"Elena never loved anyone else."

That was not proof. He knew it wasn't. Yet when Lily leaned against his knee, his hand settled around her back with an instinct that frightened him.

Marco stepped out to answer his phone. When he returned, his expression had closed.

"Victoria left through the east entrance before we secured it. Her driver says she dismissed him."

Vincent stood carefully, keeping Lily beside him.

"Put someone on the cottage. Find Daniel. Don't tell him why."

Lily caught his hand.

"Are you going to find Mommy now?"

"I'm going to try."

"Don't put her back under the stones."

He knelt.

"What stones, sweetheart?"

"Where she used to live. I hated the door. You couldn't open it from inside."