The Woman in the Walls by Faith Cobaine

Author:Faith Cobaine [Cobaine, Faith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798664920024
Published: 2020-07-20T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-two

Sophia only stayed one night as she needed to get home for a long-standing client’s appointment. It meant Gemma had to spend the following few days and nights on her own in the house. It had been difficult to fall asleep at night and, reluctant to dwell on Sophia’s diagnosis, told herself it was simply the effects of pregnancy. Keeping the lights on helped and so did going to bed late when she was very tired, hoping she’d fall asleep straight away.

She tried to dismiss Sophia’s conclusion of ‘two spirits’ – whatever it was couldn’t harm her or her unborn baby but an edgy feeling lingered in the pit of her stomach. She rationalised, reminding herself the incidents hadn’t been regular and there were days and nights when nothing had happened at all.

One morning she stood sideways looking in the mirror and was delighted to see a change in her shape – a very slight baby bump – likely only noticeable to her. Soon she’d be three months gone and it would be time to announce it to the world. She decided to give herself a day off; a couple of women from Knit & Natter had come for their massages in the past couple of days and Chrissie had been for a few more treatments in recent weeks. It was great to be building up her client base. They all left good feedback and testimonials they said she could post on her website. The extra cash came in handy too and meant she could go shopping for baby things.

That afternoon she drove to Carlisle and enjoyed the bustle, colour and music of the shops, losing herself among rails of clothes, shelves of crockery, lines of books. In a department store, she made a beeline to the baby section, to the rows of heart-meltingly gorgeous, tiny clothes. She bought a soft yellow blanket, a newborn’s cardigan and a tiny hat with teddy bears on it. Being pregnant led her to think of Mum and how she must once have felt as she did now, new hope, a future, growing inside her.

Her baby was due in May, just a couple of weeks after their anniversary of moving into The Lilacs. Her twelve-week scan would give a better idea of her due date. This time next year, she’d be occupied with her little baby; playing in the garden, strolling into Kendal, attending playgroups, baby yoga classes, the nonsense of ghosts and Ana left well in the past.

Driving home in the dark, the M6 was surprisingly free of traffic. There was only the odd truck in the distance, red lights curving away, occasional clusters of cars overtaking in swooshes. She indicated to turn off at junction 37. The five turbines of Lambrigg Wind Farm towered at the brow of the hill. Instead of their usual motion, brisk and purposeful, their limbs rotated lethargically in the low wind, greyed by the darkness, a freakish fusion of discarded airplane components.

The moon was full. October

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