Hearing the squeal, Bree spun round then stopped walking.
Placing her hands on the ground, Molly stood up slowly and brushed herself down. Her heart was thumping nineteen to the dozen as she breathed deeply. Cupping her hand around her bump she thankfully didn’t feel any twinges but the cold wind was chilling her to the bone and now all she wanted was to be back home into the warmth.
‘Are you okay?’ Bree was walking towards her.
Disgruntled, she muttered, ‘I would be if I wasn’t following you up dark alleys in the freezing cold. Why didn’t you stop?’ Molly’s voice was a little agitated as she dug her hands deep into the pockets of her coat and looked at Bree, who shifted her gaze to the ground. There was an awkward silence. ‘What’s going on? Are you upset with me after hearing the conversation in the shop?’
Bree’s eyes widened and she looked confused.
‘You didn’t hear the conversation in the shop, did you?’ Molly asked, realising she’d gotten it wrong.
Bree shook her head.
‘So why are you avoiding me?’ asked Molly.
Bree still wasn’t making eye contact.
‘As much as I would love to be a mind-reader, the temperature out here is freezing and I happen to be eight months pregnant and need to get going home—’
‘Home. Wouldn’t that be nice… Welcome to my home, my world,’ interrupted Bree, throwing her arms open. ‘This alley isn’t a bad one to bed down in; it’s quite sheltered from the wind and the doorways are deep.’ Bree’s voice was hard, matter-of-fact. She turned and began to walk away. ‘Go home.’
‘Where are you going now?’ Molly grabbed her coat. ‘You can’t be wandering about in this weather. You’ll catch your death.’
Bree stopped. ‘I don’t have much choice and sometimes I think that isn’t such a bad option.’ She hoisted her duffle bag up on to her back and copied Molly’s stance, digging her own hands deep in the pockets of her coat.
Those words hit Molly like a high-speed train. ‘You can’t mean that, you have your whole life in front of you.’ As soon as the words left her mouth Molly knew that they sounded lame. What did Bree have to look forward to? Nights on the street or in the shelter. Wandering around all day with no place to rest or call home. ‘Where are you going to sleep tonight?’ Molly asked.
Bree shrugged. ‘The shelter doors are closed now but there’s a café at the bottom of Clarets Row that stays open until late. I can ring the shelter helpline from there, but there’s no buses and it’s a long walk to the next town.’
Molly shuffled from side to side. She could barely feel her fingers and toes. The tip of her nose was cold and hair was limp and wet with the flakes of snow.
Bree looked as frozen as she did and all Molly could think about was getting them both into the warmth as soon as possible. Sitting in a café whilst they worked out Bree’s next move didn’t appeal to her.
‘It’s okay, you can go.’ Bree was looking towards the ground. ‘I’m nobody’s problem but my own.’
‘You still didn’t answer my question. Why were you running from me?’
Bree looked shifty, and Molly asked herself, was it guilt at taking the phone? Even if it was, Molly couldn’t just walk away and leave Bree to walk into the cold night by herself. She knew Cam was going to be far from happy with the words that were going to leave her mouth next, but she hoped, if he was in her shoes, he would do exactly the same.
‘You can come home with me,’ stated Molly.
She swung a glance towards the doorways and shuddered. ‘There’s a couple of spare bedrooms and stew left in the pot. You can even have a warm bubble bath if you like.’
Bree’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’ she said, catching Molly’s eye then looking back down at the ground.
‘Really,’ replied Molly, hoping that Cam could see the bigger picture when she walked back through the door with Bree.
‘I can’t remember the last time I had a bath,’ replied Bree. ‘It must be way over twelve months.’
‘I’ll let you into a secret, I’ve not had a bath for a while either, because I can get in but I have a little trouble getting out.’ Molly smiled, patting her stomach, and began to walk slowly back along the alley, watching her step as she did so. She took a sideward glance at Bree and noticed a small smile hitched on her face, but it quickly disappeared.
‘What is it?’ asked Molly.
Bree swallowed, she dipped her head, but looked up under her fringe. ‘I’m sorry…’
‘What do you need to be sorry for?’ When Molly asked the question Bree looked guilty, her face pale.
Bree hesitated. ‘I stole from you.’
