I realise that I haven't gotten a chance to talk to Lindsey yet today. She needs a good talking to about this morning. "Mrs. Pointer, shall I take this little one to our room and change her out of her play clothes?" At this, Lindsey stomps one foot on the floor and spits. "No change!" She grunts.

But Mrs. Pointer just laughs. "Go on now, dear." She gives my sister a small nudge on the shoulder and Linsey reluctantly trudges over to take my hand. "Edmund?" Rose says, "Make yourself useful and get the pie out of the oven."

Once we are in our room, I instruct Lindsey to sit on the bed. "Listen to me!" My voice is hushed yet firm. "Am I in trouble?" I feel a pang of guilt at her small voice. "Yes, you are!" I snap. I can already see the tears brimming at the edge of her eyes. "Listen L-Pops, you shouldn't have got up without me this morning. We have a lot at stake and we can't afford you messing it up by letting anything slip."

It's true, of course. We are vulnerable in the eyes of our own identities at present. They are precious. "I wouldn't have let anything slip!" She protests, folding her chubby arms over her chest. "Well, we can't afford any risks." I say. Lindsey's face bundles into a scowl. She can be so difficult sometimes.

"You don't care about me." She whispers. The words hit me hard. This little girl, the only person in the world I unconditionally and unconventionally love, is oblivious to how much I care for her. I sit, speechless.

"You were off with Edmund for most of the day." That much is true. "I'm just not important to you anymore!" That's when I feel it. A tear, creeping it's way down my cheek. Lindsey looks worried. "Lola? Oh Lola don't cry!" And then she, too, begins to cry.

I wrap her in an embrace. "I do love you." I choke in between sobs. "More than anything, and I'm so sorry I got so vexed about this morning. You weren't to know. And I'm sorry I was off with Edmund all day." I pull her closer with every word.

"I forgive you Lola." She says, pulling away and wiping tears from her cheeks. "You really are a splendid sister." And then I notice something amazing. Her lisp is gone.
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It's not too long until Tilda calls us for supper. Lindsey and I take a seat at the dining table in the same arrangement as yesterday; her one side of me, Edmund the other.

Rose sets a steaming plate of steak and kidney pie and mash in front of us. The smell makes my mouth water, and I can hardly bare to eat. Mr. Pointer says grace and we begin.

This food is delicious. Mother always used to cook pie. Mother... I hastily obliterate the thought of her from my mind. We're not going back until that man is gone. There's a comfortable silence as everyone enjoys their meals.

I notice something. Propped on the mantle place at the end of the table, half hidden amongst vases and spring blossom bouquets, is a photograph. "Mr. Pointer?" "Yes child?" He looks up from his food. "Who is that man in that photograph?" He stares at the photograph for a couple of seconds before answering.

"That's Admiral J. Comely, of course!" He says cheerfully, as if recalling fond memories. "A fine sea captain I daresay. Met him during my short time working at the docks; kept in touch with him for a little while."

"What happened to him?" I ask. I'm feeling rather inquisitive over this so-called sea captain. "Married a woman after his sea-faring days were over. Moved into a house and had a child with her."

"How do you know all this?" I ask. "Companions, that was what we were. Wrote letters to and fro after we parted. I'm fairly certain he had a falling put with the Mrs. and left for sea again. His ship was reported sunken a few days later." What a tragical tale. It stirs a deep and intense sadness inside me; something so intensely depressing that it makes me want to keel over.

"Poor man." I whisper. Mr. Pointer nods. "What a lovely fellow he was too." We resume our meals and there is no further comment regarding the sea captain.
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I stay in the kitchen with Edmund to wash dishes when supper is over. Lindsey retires to bed, and I allow Mrs. Pointer the pleasure of wishing her goodnight and reading a book to her.

"Quite a day then." Edmund grins, wiping the final plate dry. "Suppose it was." Instinctively, I grab his hand and bound towards the pantry. I lock the door behind us and prop myself up against a shelf of canned tomatoes.

"Why are we in here?" He looks confused. "I need to tell you something." I say. It's time I finally get this off my chest. "I knew you'd come around!" He exclaims, face lighting up.

"Come around to what? You don't even know what I'm going to tell you yet." Ah, I see what he means. I smirk. Not a chance.

"Well... my name isn't Lilith Fleetwood. And that isn't Dorothy Jones." The excitement on Edmund's face fades into a look of utter puzzlement. "I am Lola Wright, and that isn't my little cousin but my little sister, Lindsey Wright." I sigh. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders- a fine feeling.

I'm momentarily alarmed by scuffling noises on the other side of the door- but this is soon abolished as I resolve it to be the curtains in the kitchen, as we left the windows open and it is quite breezy tonight.

"Why did you tell us those were your names then?" Lord. Boys really are stupid. "Someday, you'll understand. I promise. But right now it's important you keep what I just told you a secret." Was I wrong to trust him?

"You can count on me, Lola."
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We clamber out of the pantry. Edmund shoots me a lopsided grin and wishes me goodnight. His jaw will become misplaced from all this lopsided grinning.

I slip silently into the bedroom slide in between the sheets. As I doze off, I think about Mother.