Page 18 of The Lost Heiress
“You must have felt very protective of her.”
“I did,” Florence said, “like she was my own.”
“And how did you feel about Senator Towers removing her from school?” Church asked. “It sounded like Saoirse took that quite hard.”
Florence was quiet for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “But everything Ransom did was to protect her.”
“So he acted in good faith,” Church said, “but you didn’t agree with his decision?”
“It wasn’t my place to have an opinion,” Florence said. “Ransom was her legal guardian, and he did what he thought was best. The poor boy was barely more than a child himself. It was tragic, really, losing both of his parents so young the way he did, and then his brother, Theo, too, not long after.”
“The Towers family curse,” Church said.
A chill went up Florence’s spine, and she crossed herself.
“Are you superstitious, Mrs. Talbot?” Church asked. “I didn’t take you for the type.”
“Not superstitious,” Florence said. “Catholic.”
“Ah,” Church said.
“You’re not a religious man, Detective?” Florence asked.
Detective Church shook his head. “In my line of work, I’ve seen too many things to believe in God,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I see,” Florence said. “Yes, I imagine that is quite hard, day after day, to see the worst in humanity and believe we came from something better than us.”
“That’s the thing I never understood,” Church said. “If we were made in God’s image, then why do we do the things we do to one another?”
“Because we have a choice,” Florence said. “And we don’t always make the right one. But sometimes we do.” Florence reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small silver rosary ring. “When I was a girl,” she said, “when I was lost and abandoned and in my darkest hour of need, someone showed me grace. They had no reason to do it, nothing to gain. But they did it anyway. My life today would be fundamentally different—unimaginable, really—if not for that act of kindness. That person gave this to me, and I’ve carried it around with me ever since. Not just to pray the rosary but to have something tangible to hold on to that reminds me of the good people are capable of, if only they choose it.”
“That’s a very noble way of looking at things, Mrs. Talbot,” Church said.
“How we look at things is a choice too,” she said. “People are rarely as simple as good or bad, right or wrong. In my experience, they’re a bit of both, somewhere in between. Here.” Florence handed him the rosary ring. “I daresay you need this more than I do.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of you,” Detective Church said, “but I couldn’t—”
“Take it, please,” Florence said. “You don’t have to use it for prayer. Just—you know, in the midst of all the chaos and the darkness that you see, let it remind you of the good.”
Church reached out hesitantly and took it. He ran his thumb thoughtfully along the burnished silver beads on the edges of the ring and then slipped it into his pocket. “Thank you, Mrs. Talbot,” he said.
“Please,” she said. “Call me Florence.”
Chapter Five
June 1982
For breakfast that morning, the chef had prepared a Gruyère-and-porchetta omelet, and Saoirse dug into it zealously with her fork and knife. She was ravenous. The cheese lent a rich, creamy texture to the eggs. It was sweet and salty at the same time, with a divine nutty taste that Saoirse didn’t think she could ever get enough of. The savory pork roast was so tender it practically melted in her mouth. She didn’t know if she had ever tasted anything so divine.
“I heard what you did to that girl,” Saoirse’s mother, Birdie, said, and Saoirse lifted her head to see her mother sitting next to her, at the head of the table. She had a plate of fruit in front of her and a cup of coffee. The newspaper was splayed open on the table next to her so she could read.
“That was hardly Saoirse’s fault,” Tabby said.
Saoirse looked at Tabby, sitting across the table from her, dressed in black like she always was, a cup of tea in front of her.
“That girl isn’t fit for her job,” Tabby went on. “Falling asleep on the first day of work?” She made atsksound. “I don’t know why I wasn’t left to make the hiring arrangements. I would have found someone better suited.”
“Mm,” Birdie said, taking a sip of her coffee and turning her attention to her paper. “Still, it wasn’t kind.”
