A Matchbox Full of Pearls by Kamille Roach

Author:Kamille Roach
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: australian authors, cozy romance, small topwn mystery, small town mystery romance
Publisher: Kamille Roach
Published: 2021-12-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

Lorrelai woke early from a deep, heavy sleep. Yawning, she got up on one elbow and swung her legs out. The damp towel slid down from her breasts, and she put it aside and tugged on a fitted skivvy, slipping another cloth up the front, pulling her plait from where it was trapped beneath the top. She smelled bread, and her mouth watered.

‘Thanks, Pierre,’ she said, slipping a dress of Maria’s over the top before she opened the curtain.

Bent over in front of the stove, Pierre straightened. ‘Two loaves, dear?’

‘One for us, the other for Ned and Dora. I’m helping them.’ She yawned and searched around for an apron, pulling one off the door rail before tying it behind her. ‘We’ll get fresh veggies, milk and eggs in return.’

‘Lovely!’ Pierre rubbed his hands together, a twinkle in his eye. ‘Mind if I eat one of those eggs for brekkie? Got a big day ahead. Butcher pays me with a roast leg o’ lamb today!’

‘Of course.’

Once Pierre left, Lorrelai made more soup. She could imagine fresh vegetables snapping under the knife, and her soul lifted.

Lorrelai put on her straw hat and headed uphill. The baby was crying already. She knocked once, twice, and then opened the door.

‘Hello? Hello? Just me, Lorrelai.’ She peered inside. The strong smell and loud wailing slapped her senses. In front of the drawn curtains sat Dora. She was wearing her old nightie, her hair knotted at the back of her head.

‘Dora? Are you all right?’ Lorrelai put the soup and bread on the table and bent closer. Dora’s head turned, but she stared at the floor.

Lorrelai touched her arm and spoke over the noise. ‘I’ve made bread and soup.’

Dora looked at the food, but then away, wincing.

Lorrelai ripped back the curtain and went to the cot. ‘Okay now, little fellow. What’s wrong, huh?’

The tiny boy’s face gleamed wet and red. He had kicked his covers off and his stick-thin legs pedalled the air, tiny pink grub toes splayed. Lorrelai took off her hat and placed it down on the table.

‘Should I pick him up?’ Lorrelai watched as his tiny fists clenched and shook, his lips quivering as he gulped air.

Dora’s eyes snapped over to her as Lorrelai reached in, slid her hands under the baby, and gently clutched him to her shoulder. His back was wet. At first rigid, his body softened.

‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Lorrelai turned. ‘Dora, do you have a dry nappy for him?’

Dora swallowed. Corrugations moved beneath the skin of her throat. Then she pointed at a small pile of folded squares.

‘Nappies?’ Lorrelai leaned back, so the child’s weight rested into her chest, and then went over and, with her free hand, picked one up. It unfolded out to a square.

Lorrelai supported the baby’s head as she lowered him down. ‘I haven’t changed a nappy, Dora.’

‘I have.’ The caravan bumped as Blossom bounced in. She dumped a grey wide-brimmed hat on top of Lorrelai’s hat and took the baby’s legs.

Lorrelai moved over to give her room.

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