Free The Blue Virgin by Marni Graff

there was a noticeable change in the red-eyed woman who had seemed to shrink into the sofa as the room became sultry.
      “There is no Mr. Wallace, Inspector Barnes,” Janet said quietly, drawing her frame to the edge of the couch with great dignity and leaning forward. “Wallace is my maiden name. The man who fathered my daughter disappeared when she was two days old—I never knew if it was because he was disappointed the baby was a girl or just felt trapped by the responsibility.” Her voice trembled as she recounted the day she was to take her baby home, waiting for Allen Wesley to arrive.
      “I was convinced he’d had an accident when he didn’t come. I called my parents, but they hadn’t heard from him. He wasn’t from around here so I had no one else to call. My father finally took us home, to the flat he’d made us over our barn.”
      Her voice faltered, and she paused to take a sip of her tea. Nora’s heart turned over for her pain. Janet cleared her throat and continued.
      “He’d left the baby things we’d collected and the money we’d saved and just took his clothes. I was certain he’d panicked and would be back in a few days. It took six months with no news from him for it to sink in he wasn’t ever coming back, probably a year before I admitted that to anyone else.”
      The inspector nodded sympathetically. “How did you divorce?”
      A blush rose on the pale face. “We weren’t married. I wanted a proper dress, not one made to disguise my pregnancy. I suppose that turned out to be a big mistake.”
      Nora caught her breath. She understood Janet Wallace more than she’d ever imagined she would. At least she was having her baby in a time where it was more common for a woman to raise a child alone. She could only imagine the struggle Janet had gone through almost thirty years ago.
      Janet shrugged, smiling ruefully, and her voice got stronger as she summoned the mettle it had taken her to raise her child alone without a father. “Perhaps in the end it was for the best. We didn’t really know each other well, and the pregnancy pushed us into thinking we should get married. Allen gave Bryn her long legs and dark hair. She had beautiful hair—I used to braid it when she went to sleep and all the next day she would have brown waves like a soft cloud around her face.” Janet blinked rapidly, hurrying to get her story out.
      “My parents helped me raise Bronwyn while I worked in a series of town shops and then the postal office before coming here. We had a good life, I think. We all doted on her, and I managed, although it was tough at times. She was always pretty, a delightful child, but on occasion melancholy. I thought it was because she never knew her father.” Janet’s eyes misted over, and she was lost to her memories again; the room’s occupants shifted their positions, giving the mother time to compose herself.
      Nora found Barnes’ eyes on her and realized her empathy was showing. She looked quickly away, struck by the intensity of his gaze. He turned to Janet, and Nora heard him gentle his tone as he continued.
      “And you’ve had no contact with him, no idea where Allen Wesley is now?”
      Janet shook her head. “I decided he either made a new life for himself, or he died.”
      “Would you have a picture of him?” Barnes asked. There was a pause as Janet concentrated.
      “I had one from when we were dating. Bryn used to keep it in her room; I guess she took it with her when she moved to Oxford.”
      “Bryn had a tin she kept old photographs in; it might be in there,” Val offered.
      “Right, we’ll get it and have copies made.” Barnes paused before asking: “Do either of you know if Bryn ever tried to find her father, to contact him in any way?” Both women shook their heads, but a look between Barnes and Watkins told Nora they, like she, wondered if Bryn’s father could be a part of this equation.
      Nora stirred and got up to take