Wait For the Dawn by Jess Foley

Author:Jess Foley [Foley, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Sagas, Fiction
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2010-07-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The rain held off until just after Lydia got back to the house on Little Marsh Street. Then it came, falling heavily, and she sat in her room watching as it drenched the leaves of the cherry tree in the back yard and bounced up off the windowsill. Overhead the clouds were low and smoky grey, their ragged edges drifting as they rode the sky. When it was time she went downstairs to the dining room to eat her supper. To her relief – for she did not feel like conversation – Mrs Obdermann made only two brief appearances. She was busy at her sewing machine, she said to Lydia, and did not have the time to linger. Lydia did not find the food particularly appetising, added to which she had little inclination to eat. Nevertheless, to forestall any comment from Mrs Obdermann, she ate as much as she could.

Afterwards, she went back up to her room and there sat and tried to read. She would have liked to go for a walk, but, although the rain had stopped, the skies still looking threatening, and she was loath to take the chance. Putting her book aside, she pulled her bag towards her and brought out the cheque that Mrs Anderson had given her. She sat back, looking at it and feeling her heart pounding, partly because of the memory of the visit to the woman that afternoon, and partly because of the horror that the piece of paper induced in her.

How could Mrs Anderson have done such a thing? Did she think that Lydia’s affection could be bought off like that? Is that what the money was for – to recompense her for her hurt, and to assuage any feelings of betrayal? If so, it was a waste, and only made things worse. How, Lydia asked herself, could she have accepted the cheque? How could she have taken it from Mrs Anderson and, as she was bidden, put it into her bag?

But Mrs Anderson had known. Surely she had divined the situation – Lydia’s condition. It had not been spoken of – indeed, Mrs Anderson had made it clear that she did not want to know of it – but Lydia was sure she knew of it, nevertheless. In which case, could the gift of the money have to do with that? There was no doubt that babies cost money to bring up, so perhaps the cheque had been for the purpose of easing the coming financial burden. If it comes in useful, then that is well and good, and if you have no immediate use for it, then save it for when you do.

She looked at Mrs Anderson’s signature, the clear, though slightly crabbed cursive text in the writing of Lydia’s name, and the amount to be paid, one hundred pounds.

After a while she got up and put the cheque in the top drawer of the little white-painted chest that stood beneath the window. She must decide what

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