Jane smiled. ‘Oh my God! Was it Rachel?’
‘No, the girl was with her mother and thought I looked exactly like a deaf friend of hers. It dawned on me she might have thought I was Rachel so I spoke to the mother, who told me her daughter had been a day pupil at the Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb in Lower Clapton. It turned out Rachel was sent there from St. Cuthbert’s, and it was a proper school where she’d been a resident pupil for years. The mother told me Rachel was still there and teaching sign language. I couldn’t believe we were living a mile apart in the same area and never knew it. I went straight to the school to see her.’
‘It must have been a wonderful feeling when you saw each other again after all those years apart.’
There was a broad smile on Emma’s face. ‘It was beyond belief, Jane. It’s hard to explain the mixed emotions when you find someone you thought you’d never see again. We both cried floods of tears as we hugged each other and vowed we’d never be parted again.’
‘If you were both living in Hackney, how did you end up on the Broadwater?’
‘When Rachel started working at the Tottenham sorting office it made sense to apply to Haringey Council for accommodation. We’d been orphans at St. Cuthbert’s and I’d spent my teenage life living with different foster parents in Haringey. I applied to the council and they immediately offered us a flat on the Broadwater Farm — we didn’t know what the estate was like.’
‘The nun at St. Cuthbert’s also told us your father, Mehmet, was being chased by police when he crashed the car with you and your sister.’
Emma’s eyes narrowed at the mention of her father, but there was also a sadness in her face.
‘Did the nun tell you he killed our mother and a police officer?’
Jane nodded. ‘I can understand why you and Rachel didn’t want to tell me the truth about everything that happened... It’s OK.’
‘Rachel lost her memory as a result of the car crash. The nuns said it was best I never told her how Mama died, and they led her to believe she was killed in the car crash. My father beat her to death in front of us. I’m glad Rachel doesn’t know the truth, and as long as I live I’ll never tell her.’
Jane was shocked. ‘You witnessed the assault on your mother?’
Emma nodded. ‘We cowered in a corner, holding each other tight, as Mama screamed in pain and begged him to stop. The last thing I remember was the way she tried to reach out to us as she lay on the living room floor in a pool of blood. I put my hand out towards her, but he stepped between us and shouted to go to our room.’
‘Did you see him shoot the policeman as well?’
Emma looked close to tears as she recalled the painful events of her past.
‘The bastard didn’t care about anyone but himself — our lives were ruined because of him. He’d take a belt to us if we misbehaved, Mama would cry and he’d blame it on us, then when he hit Mama with a belt, we just accepted his behavior as normal—’
She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. Jane could see the hatred for her father in her eyes.
‘But when I saw what he did to Mama that day with his fists, I realized he was evil — just like those men in the cafe.’
‘I’m so sorry, Emma... I can’t begin to imagine what effect that must have had on your lives.’
‘My father was punished by God for his sins,’ Emma continued. ‘But the reality is he got away with nearly killing me and Rachel, and murdering Mama and the policeman. I’m glad he died, but part of me will always feel he should have been tried and sent to prison.’
‘I understand now why you wanted Rachel to tell me about the men in the Bluebird cafe.’
Emma looked imploringly at Jane. ‘Promise me you’ll never tell her the truth about our father and what he did to Mama... It would break her heart.’
‘You have my word on it. We’d better finish making these drinks and take them through, or Rachel will wonder what’s going on.’
As they walked into the living room Rachel signed to Emma, asking if everything was all right.
‘We were just chatting about your drawings, then I showed Jane some of my dress patterns.’
Emma handed her sister a cup of tea. Jane could tell from the look on Rachel’s face she suspected her sister wasn’t being truthful. She handed Teflon his coffee.
‘Any luck with the car?’
‘Looks like your Camel Hair Coat Man was probably driving a Jensen Interceptor.’
‘That’s a sports car, isn’t it?’
He grinned and shook his head. ‘Saying that would be sacrilege to a Jensen owner. The cars are classed as GTs, which means Grand Tourer, from the Italian gran turismo — luxury high performance cars that are designed for long-distance driving, like Aston Martins, Ferraris and Maseratis. Jensen stopped producing cars in 1976, but a new one back then would have cost you around eight grand.’
Jane smiled. ‘I didn’t take you for a car buff.’
‘I’m not, but my dad is. He gets Classic Cars magazine every month and lets me have them when he’s finished. I like to dream about cruising an alpine road in an Aston Martin.’
Rachel signed and Emma translated.
‘She said, “You never know, one day you might win the pools or Premium Bonds and be able to buy one.”’
‘I’d get stopped by the police every five minutes if I was driving a Jensen — or any expensive car for that matter,’ he said wryly.
Emma signed while Jane explained to Rachel that her information about the men in the cafe had proved useful and was still being followed up, but there was no direct evidence to suggest they had committed, or were about to commit, a robbery. Rachel smiled and signed that in some ways that was a relief. She was worried about using the cafe after telling Jane what she had lip-read.
‘I want you to know, if you use the cafe on Monday morning, I might be in there working undercover as a waitress. If I am there it’s important that you don’t do anything that might give away you know me.’
Rachel looked anxious and signed quickly.
‘She’s worried you told Nick about her.’
Jane shook her head. ‘Don’t be. He doesn’t know that you’ve spoken to me and, like I promised you, he never will.’
Rachel sighed with relief and signed, asking if Jane would like her to stop using the cafe for a bit.
‘It’s entirely up to you, Rachel, but I’d be grateful if you’d continue going in and lip-reading what the men talk about.’
She looked at Emma for advice.
‘I think you should if it will help their investigation, but like Jane said, it’s up to you.’
Rachel licked her lips as she thought about it, then agreed that she would go to the cafe on Monday morning.
As Jane and Teflon walked towards the stairwell to leave, Emma called out to them.
‘I wasn’t entirely truthful with you about why I needed to get away from the estate. We did suffer abuse from some local teenagers, and occasionally a few adults. We even had “weirdos” and “psycho twins” painted on our front door. I genuinely feared reporting it to the police would make matters worse, so we chose to ignore it and tried to avoid the people responsible when we were coming and going from the flat. Then one day everything suddenly changed. Someone had repainted our front door and the abuse stopped. If the kids saw us coming, they’d walk off or look the other way.’
‘Sounds like “someone” had a word in their ear and told them to stop. Do you know who it might have been?’ Jane asked.
‘At first, I didn’t, but after a few weeks I discovered it was Uncle Asil, our father’s brother.’
Jane looked perplexed. ‘The same man who abandoned you twenty-two years ago?’