The woman’s eyes welled with tears.
 
 Adela touched her arm in sympathy. ‘Yes, I heard he was a kind man,’ she said. ‘I am sorry.’
 
 A tear dropped on to Polly. The cat leapt down and hurried back outside.
 
 ‘Did the Segals move too?’
 
 Doris sighed. ‘I can’t recall. Yes, I think so. I think Elene might have been evacuated with the baby – well he was a little boy by then.’
 
 Adela’s heart thumped. ‘Do you remember him?’
 
 Doris smiled. ‘He was a cheery thing – always smiling and babbling away trying to talk. And his mam was devoted. You would think she was his real flesh-and-blood mother the fuss she made over him.’
 
 Adela’s heart ached with a mixture of pride and jealousy.
 
 ‘But it’s possible they might still live in Birtley?’ Adela pressed.
 
 ‘Oh, they didn’t live in Birtley,’ said Doris. ‘That was just where MrSegal worked. No, they lived in Newcastle.’
 
 ‘Whereabouts?’ asked Adela, trying not to sound too eager.
 
 Doris gave her a look of surprise. ‘Why are you so interested in the Segals? Did you know them?’
 
 ‘No,’ Adela admitted, ‘but I’m interested in the adoption society. I’d like to do something worthwhile like that.’
 
 ‘You should ask the pastor about it, dear.’
 
 ‘Yes, but it would also be useful to talk to mothers who know about these things.’
 
 Adela held her breath, hoping MrsKelly would believe her. Or was the organist growing suspicious of her string of questions? Adela felt bad about lying to the woman but it wasn’t far from the truth. She did want to talk to this Elene Segal – or at least find out where she lived.
 
 Doris pursed her lips in thought. ‘Heaton,’ she said. ‘They lived in Heaton. Now where was it? Railway Terrace, I think. Yes, Railway Terrace near the goods yard. But there’s no knowing whether they’re still there. In fact, I’d be very surprised if they were.’
 
 ‘Why’s that?’ Adela asked.
 
 ‘Because she would still have been coming to church, wouldn’t she?’ Doris shook her head. ‘No, I think it more likely they were evacuated – or moved with his job. I was away in Yorkshire a lot of the War looking after Wilfred’s young ones but the Segals had gone by the time I came back. I’ve never seen or heard of them since.’
 
 ‘You’re probably right,’ Adela agreed, trying not to show disappointment.
 
 ‘Or there’s the other possibility,’ Doris mused. ‘They might have gone back to Belgium when the War ended.’
 
 Adela’s chest tightened at the painful thought. If that was the case, it would be almost impossible to find her son.
 
 Doris pressed her to stay for a cup of tea and a biscuit. Adela realised that there was no Sam at home to nag her about staying out late, so she accepted. They talked about other things; Doris was interested to hear about her growing up in India.
 
 As she got ready to go, Adela turned the conversation to the Segals one last time. She was plagued by one question in particular.
 
 ‘What did the Segals call their baby?’ she asked.
 
 Doris frowned in thought. ‘Let me think.’
 
 Adela went very still, even though her heart was hammering. She thought it unlikely they would have kept his real name, yet she hoped unrealistically that they had.
 
 ‘Jacques, I think it was,’ said Doris. ‘Maybe it was MrSegal’s name.’
 
 Adela nodded, her throat suddenly too tight to speak. It may have been the adoptive father’s name but it was also the French name for John. Adela’s eyes prickled with emotion and she made a hurried departure, afraid that she would break down crying in front of MrsKelly.
 
 It was after nine o’clock but still light when Adela left MrsKelly’s flat. Full of a restless energy, she began walking in the direction of Heaton and the railway line. She couldn’t wait another day to discover if the Segals still lived in Railway Terrace. She wouldn’t knock on anyone’s door; she would just walk the street and casually look around. What if she were to spot John Wesley playing in the street?