Adela smirked. ‘P&O third-class dining room, you mean.’
 
 ‘Snob,’ said Sam with a nudge.
 
 ‘We should go for something less imperial,’ she said, ‘and more modern. Maybe French chic – Mediterranean colours and bright tablecloths instead of those old white ones that are almost yellow with age.’
 
 ‘Have you suddenly come into money?’ Sam teased.
 
 ‘We can dye the old ones,’ suggested Adela. ‘Josey will help me – she’s full of artistic ideas. And we need to change the waitresses’ uniforms – they’re positively Victorian.’
 
 As they reached the house, Adela was filled with a new optimism. Lexy was right: it was just a matter of finding their feet. Her sense of emotional distance towards Sam was nothing to worry about and their lack of intimacy would be temporary. They had just had too many other things to cope with since arriving in Newcastle.
 
 ‘There’s an official-looking letter for you,’ said Tilly as they passed on the doorstep. ‘I’ve left it on the hall table. I’m off to a Mothers’ Meeting at church. There’s tongue and pickle in the pantry – help yourselves. Josey’s upstairs making trousers out of black-out curtains for that next play. Toodle pip!’ Tilly kissed Adela on the cheek as she went.
 
 Adela grinned. ‘Thanks and see you later.’
 
 Adela ignored the envelope on the table and went straight into the dining room to pour herself a gin and lime. A creditors’ letter could wait. She was already taking a large gulp by the time Sam followed her into the room. He held out the letter, a strange look on his face.
 
 ‘It’s addressed to you,’ he said.
 
 ‘Well, it would be, wouldn’t it? I’m dealing with all of Herbert’s admin.’
 
 ‘It’s to Adela Robson, not Jackman,’ he said.
 
 Adela’s heart missed a beat. ‘Is it ...? Do you think it’s from ...?’
 
 ‘Open it and see,’ said Sam. He looked as tense as she felt.
 
 She put down her glass and held out her hand. With shaking fingers, she tore open the envelope. The typed address at the top was different from the one she had written to. The missionary society had moved to London.
 
 Dear Miss Robson
 
 I apologise for not replying sooner but your letter has only just been forwarded from Newcastle by the General Post Office.
 
 I regret that we are unable to help you. We are a small adoption society and all our records from before 1942 were destroyed in an air raid on the city of Newcastle. Even if they had survived, we would not be at liberty to share our documents with you (as you no doubt realised when you signed over your child into our care).
 
 I can, however, assure you that your son will have gone to a loving Christian home, with all the benefits of a stable, moral upbringing, and will be learning to walk in the way of Jesus Christ.
 
 May the Lord bless you.
 
 Yours sincerely
 
 Rev A.J.Stevens
 
 Adela felt numb as she re-read the letter, searching for any tiny clue that would give her hope that she could find her son. But there was none. Bile rose in her throat.
 
 ‘Adela,’ Sam said with an anxious expression, ‘what does it say?’
 
 She held it out to him, tears making her vision blur. She couldn’t speak. She stood shaking while Sam scrutinised the letter with a frown of concentration. He looked up. His hazel-brown eyes were filled with pity. He opened his arms. ‘Come here,’ he said.
 
 Adela stumbled into his hold and felt his strong arms bind tightly around her. She buried her face in his shoulder and wept. Sam stroked her hair and murmured, ‘I’m sorry, my darling.’
 
 They stood clinging to each other for long minutes. Adela didn’t want to break away or think about what came next. She was submerged in a wave of loss and longing for John Wesley. Howcouldshe have ever given him up? The letter had made her see the brutal truth: she had no right to her own child. Worse still, now that the records of his adoption had been destroyed in the War, she would never be able to find out what had happened to him. The thought was unbearable. If Sam had not been holding her, she would have collapsed to the floor.
 
 He let her sob in his arms until she was exhausted.
 
 ‘Whatever’s the matter?’
 
 They were startled by Josey, dressed in an old red kimono, appearing in the doorway. Sam, keeping an arm about Adela, handed her the letter. Josey read it and came quickly to Adela’s side.