The Doorstep Child by Annie Murray

Author:Annie Murray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan

Thirty-Four

That first morning Jack disappeared, full of eagerness, to the Rosette Tube Company. Don had said take a couple of days for goodness’ sake, get settled in. But no. Jack wanted to get in to work, get cracking, he said. Don laughed and said he would call by and give him a ride.

Evie was glad of his hurried departure because once again she was feeling sick. She had made Jack breakfast from the supplies Don’s wife had left for them – eggs and toast, which she certainly couldn’t face herself.

For a moment she had wanted to cling to him and beg him not to leave her alone in this strange place, feeling like this. But of course, she did not do it. This was a big day for him. She could feel the tension in his body as she kissed him goodbye.

‘Good luck,’ she said. ‘Knock ’em dead.’

Jack grinned and kissed her again. ‘Don’t get into any mischief, will yer?’

She watched him with the front door open a crack so that Don Sorenson could not see her in her nightie. Jack, in his new black trousers and shirt, his fast, muscular walk, raising a hand to Don. Going off into his male world of work. Jack’s world which did not include her. She felt a pang, a sense of being left out. But she smiled as well, proud of him. Then she allowed herself to crawl groggily back into bed.

As her stomach buckled with nausea she felt lonely and desperate lying in the silent house. A couple from next door had come round the evening before to say hello – both in their forties and pleasant. But apart from that she had no idea who was around her. How was she ever going to get started on this place feeling like this? Last time, with Julie, it had not been anything like this bad. But of course Jack didn’t know about last time. He didn’t know about this time either. For a few minutes she pressed her head into the pillow of this new wooden-framed bed and had a cry, feeling very sorry for herself.

As she wiped her eyes, a thought struck her, fully for the first time. Here she was, with her husband, who had come to do a job in Canada, so many miles from home that it might as well have been on another planet altogether. Their coming here was all about Jack – but what was she going to do, here all on her own?

Another twist of queasiness reminded her: she was not alone. Not even alone in this room, because a small, beginning of a person had taken root and was developing inside her. She laid her hands side by side, like a little roof over her stomach, feeling the soft warmth of her flesh.

‘Julie . . .’ she whispered, stroking her hands back and forth. ‘No, I know you’re not Julie. And I’ll never ever give you away – not like her. You’re mine, and whatever happens, we’ll be together, my little one.

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