Why have you come here? Mum barely opened the door, holding it just ajar. How am I supposed to face the neighbours now? You’re not my daughter. The gossip only just started to fade; your father and I couldnt go to the shop for half a year. Why are you here? Well?
“Whos at the door, Helen?”
“Your eldest daughters here.”
“Sarah?”
Dad opened the sturdy wooden door, making the hinges rattle. He looked Sarah up and down. I felt incredibly small.
“Go anywhere you like, but I dont want to see you. And youshowing up like that, heavy with child.”
I stayed silent, looking at them from under my dark fringe, hopeful, willing them to relent. I had nowhere left to go. Pregnant, dismissed from my job, unable to pay the rent for the tiny bedsit Id been borrowing from a kind widow. No money, no roof. No one wanted to understand my circumstances. I was terrified.
I stepped off the porch, pausing to clutch my stomach.
“You wont soften her now,” Mum muttered, turning away.
Dad closed the house up behind them.
I shrank into myself, biting back tears. Inside me, the baby jostled, feeling my distress. I had come home to my family, and this was the welcome.
Snow crunched under my boots, in solemn sympathy. I pulled the gate closed behind me and glanced at the kitchen windows where the light glowed. The curtains were drawn tight.
The village shop radiated warmth and familiarity when I entered. Nothing had changed: the counter to the right with Mrs. Barker behind it, two glass cabinets to the left, and a blue painted cupboard with a sturdy lock.
“Bread please,” I said quietly, counting out my coins.
“Oh, look whos come back!”
I didnt lift my head, just repeated, “Bread please.”
“There you are then. Not sure I should even serve you, but my jobs to sell things”
She handed me the loaf, ready for another cutting remark, but the shop door opened and a young couple entered.
I left hurriedly, my single bag swinging at my side, the same with which Id left the village. I tried to fit the bread in, but it was too large, warm and fresh, calling to be eaten right there and then.
Mrs. Barker started discussing me with the newcomers, nodding in my direction, but I ignored itjust wanted desperately to get back out into the night.
Snow began falling. The wind had eased. I broke off a piece of bread and closed my eyes. At least one less problem for a moment.
Round the back of the shop, I leant against the wall, closing my eyes, savouring the yeasty bread, thick with memories of home and happier times.
“Sarah?” A voice startled me.
I opened my eyes and there stood Mrs. Thompson, Andrew’s gran, wrapped in a thick coat and scarf.
“Why are you hiding out here?”
Her eyes swept over me.
“Ive nowhere to go. My parents turned me out.”
“Couldnt settle where you were then?” she nodded towards the village.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Come with me,” she said simply, not pressing for details.
Leaning on her stick, she set off. I stood, exhaled, and quietly followed. My thoughts were muddy. I just wanted to sleepI was so very tired.
I remembered her cottage, right at the edge of the village. Andrew and I used to run past on the way to the fields and our secret hideaway. Sometimes, hed wave and call out: “Morning, Gran, Ill pop by later!”
She had only met me a few times, but of course she rememberedafter everything that had happened, how could she forget? At that moment, I longed to go back, shed this sense of disgrace and taste youth and freedom again, even if only for a moment.
Why Nicholas, my old classmate, gave me any attention in Year Eleven, I never really knew; hed just shrug if I asked: I wasnt pretty, I was quiet, not even particularly clever. But I accepted his courtship. Didnt it feel good to be wanted by someone? Nicholas carted my satchel for me, walked me home, and it all naturally deepened into what felt serious to both of us. Wed even talked about getting married.
Our parents smiled, nodded. “Wait until Nicholas comes back from his training, then well talk seriously.” But secretly, theyd begun putting things aside already.
Andrew appeared in my life by accidentthunder from a clear sky, literally. It was stifling that May afternoon; Id been into the town about college admissions. Nicholas hadnt gonehe was busy helping his dad on the farm. From the bus stop, it was just fields to our village.
Stepping off the bus, I dawdled along; too hot, and the sky threatened nothing. Thenthunder! I crouched, shielded my head. A black cloud raced up, splitting the horizon in two. The rains wall sprinted across the fields. Miles from cover, I fumbled for a carrier bag for my sandals, holding it over my hair. The deluge gained on me. Suddenly, I felt a handa car had stopped beside me, and a young man tugged me inside.
“I was honking my horn, but you never looked round! Cor, its coming down, isnt it? You scared?”
He stripped off his shirt, tossing it to the back seat and handed me a dry jumper instead. “Dont worry, Im from Ashton round the wayyou remember my dad, Mr. Smith? Im Andrew,” he said, wrapping the jumper around my shoulders. I flushed bright red.
I nodded. His logic was sound, the storm was moving towards the villageno point driving in that direction just yet.
We talked easily, as if wed known each other for ages, not minutes. Andrew worked on the farm with his father since his mother had died when he was just a schoolboy. He hadnt gone to college. There was workwhat more did he need?
He dropped me at my parents house, and we smiled at one another, almost shy. The ease was startlinga warmth I never felt with Nicholas, who, kind though he was, never quite made me feel alive.
My mood must have been obvious all evening, as Mum kept prodding but I said nothing. From then on, every car that passed through the village, I watchedhoping it was him. I longed for that feeling again.
When Nicholas came round that night, I surprised myself by breaking things off. “Youre heading off to training, Im going away to college. Lets part as friends. If were meant to meet again, we will.”
“But wholl wait for me? Why?”
“I need to move on, Nicholas.”
He left angry, for the first time.
The following day, Nicholass parents turned up at the house, upset and accusing. I couldnt face them. I slipped out the back, making my way into the woods. I walked for ages. Suddenly
“Sarah! Sarah!” Andrews voice.
He waved at me from his car. I paused. I couldnt bear another moment. I approached, then ran. He was waiting, watching.
“Thought it was you. Need a lift?”
“No, theres chaos at home. I just I cant.”
“What happened?”
“I broke up with Nicholas Ive thought of you ever since.”
“Me too,” he said with a quiet smile. “Since that first day. I heard about your engagementthats why I didnt come round.”
“Therell be no wedding.”
He leaned toward me and kissed me, gentle, his arms encircling me. We stood like that for ages, sure everything would be alright. I didnt go home until very late, once Mum had turned the lights out for the night.
“You fool, what have you done? Three years you saw that boy and now you turn him down. Is that right?” Mum scolded. Dad emerged from the sitting room. “Ill soon put a stop to this love nonsense. Youll stay home until your exams.”
But they couldnt keep me indoors forever. I saw Andrew when I could, stealing precious moments together, meeting in our hiding place.
One time, though, we were spotted. Someone told Nicholas. There was a rowtwo young men fighting on the riverbank is talk in any village.
Andrew left alone, stumblingpeople saw him, then he slipped, trying to keep his balance. Thennothing. His father rushed down, stripped his shoes, and jumped in after him.
“Sarah, come quicklyNicholas and Andrew fought at the river, Andrews in the water! They say its all over,” my old school friend Emily gasped.
The riverside was crowded by the time I got there.
“Theyve called ambulanceno use now, is it? Nicholas will be in trouble”
By then, Mr. Smith was already speeding to the hospital.
My legs gave way; I sat down in the grass, numb. Nicholass mother loomed over me. “See? Is this what you wanted? One boy gone, and theyll arrest mine now!”
“No, no” I whispered.
Back home, I fell upon my bed, not sure if I could ever get up again.
Mum stormed in. “What have you done? How could you? What now?”
She stormed out again, leaving me sobbing into my pillow.
Little thought entered my head after that. I packed a small bag, grabbed what little cash I had, and caught the bus to the town, not daring to look back.
Mrs. Thompsons cottage felt safe when we arrived that snowy evening.
“My legs ache before bad weather,” she said as she took her boots off at the bench near the door.
“Let me help” I started, but she cut me off.
“No need. I must keep moving. How far along are you?”
“Due in February.”
“Not long then Is it Andrews?”
I met her eyes. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I have no doubts.”
“Alright. Ill make up a bed for you, and well see about things in the morning.”
The house was small, just the two rooms, and filled with the scent of baking I remembered from long ago. Andrew used to bring me some whenever he could visit.
I lay awake restlessly until a big ginger cat leapt up beside me. It snuggled close to my bump, and I let it stay, finally drifting off.
I woke to the smell of fresh bread baking.
“Do you want your buns with jam or cabbage filling?”
“Jam, please,” I said, holding my belly.
“Andrew never told me your nameI just know you as the girl. Im Mary, by the way. Granny Mary,” she laughed from the kitchen. “Nearly time, isnt it?”
“I have four weeks left”
“Earlier, I reckon. She wont wait.”
“Why a she?” I asked.
“Womens intuition,” Granny Mary smiled.
Sure enough, a week later, as Granny Mary had predicted, my labour began. By midday, a baby girl arrived.
“Thank you, Sarah,” Granny Mary said, cradling the newborn.
“For what?” I whispered.
“For truth. This little one is Andrews. I held him when he was born, just like nowId know that dinky toe anywhere. Hell be overjoyed.”
“He? Who?”
“Andrew, of course.”
“What do you mean?” I struggled up on the bed. “Heshes alive?”
Tears flooded my face before I knew it.
“No one told you? Oh darling, hes alive, weak but alive,” she soothed, hugging me.
“I have to see him, Granny Mary! I cant rest, knowing hes here”
“Youll see him soon enough, love. For now, restthink of your daughter. She needs you fit. Andrew wont be going anywhere.”
I couldnt stop weeping.
Soon after, I returned to the village with my daughter. Granny Mary fetched Andrews father, who scooped up the baby, gave the tiniest of smiles, and said,
“So, is she down as Andrews?”
“Certainly. Look at her little toe, just like his.” Granny Mary unwrapped the babys foot proudly.
“Thank you, Sarah, for my granddaughter. I havent told Andrew yet. Shall we go?”
“Yes, Im ready.”
“Your parents know youre here, too. They asked when they could call on you,” Granny Mary added.
“Not yet. Not now,” I replied.
At Andrews house, I paused several times before entering.
His father went in first, slipping off his boots and carrying my daughter into the next room. I stepped quietly, my legs trembling. There he was, resting, phone in hand, by the window.
“Andrew” I whispered, reaching out.
His face lit up, reached for me too. I folded myself into his arms and wept.
“Here she is,” his father said, placing the baby between us. “What do you thinkCatherine Andrews? Has a ring to it?”
He kept grinning at the baby, eyes soft.
When the others left us alone, I sat next to Andrew and exhaled.
“I never knew you survived, Andrew. No one told me. But now youre here Im not leaving again.”
“Dont go. Im so happy. My love, my daughtereverything I wanted.”
I sit here now, the last of the snow still on the windowsill, my life changed forever. I still dont know what the neighbours will say, or if my parents will ever come roundperhaps it doesnt matter. Maybe, for once, the worst is over.
I run my fingers over Catherines tiny hand. For now, I am home.
