Now, Evelina blinked away fresh tears as she decided to cross the road, forcing herself to lift her hand and knock at the door. Thankfully it opened within seconds, not giving her the chance to run away.
The woman who opened it appeared to be a similar age to Evelina, which was the first surprise. She was wearing a simple wool dress, her hair pulled back and piled on top of her head, and she had the kindest expression that Evelina had ever seen.
The second surprise came when she spoke, and Evelina recognised her soft, almost impossible to detect Paris accent.
‘I was hoping you’d decide to knock. It was awful looking out and seeing you standing there in the cold. Please, come in.’
So she’d been watching me. Evelina shifted, nervous all over again, but when the woman held out her hand and took hers, the warmth of her palm comforting against Evelina’s ice-cold skin, she immediately stepped inside.
When the door closed behind her, she paused for a moment, but the woman seemed not to notice how nervous she was, or if she did, she certainly didn’t show it.
‘My name is Hope,’ she said, as she walked ahead of Evelina down the hall, into a warm kitchen with a fire goingin the hearth. It smelt like her mother’s kitchen at home, with something bubbling on the stovetop and the smell of baking lingering. Evelina could have closed her eyes and seen her sisters darting in and out, little hands extended to steal a rare biscuit that was usually baked on a Sunday after church.
‘I’m Evelina,’ she said, clearing her throat and moving to sit in the chair closest to the fire when Hope gestured for her to do so.
‘Is that a French accent I detect?’ Hope asked, in French, as if testing to see whether Evelina could understand her.
Evelina nodded. ‘It is,’ she replied, in her native tongue.
‘I’ve only been in London a short while myself. My mother was English, but my father was French, so I grew up in France,’ Hope said. ‘I miss being able to converse in my language, so you’re a breath of fresh air for me today.’
Evelina felt more settled listening to Hope speak, knowing they at least had a shared heritage in common. She also liked that Hope immediately busied herself, putting water on to boil and taking out coffee instead of the dreaded English tea that she still wasn’t used to, rather than questioning her or making her feel uncomfortable.
‘How far along are you, Evelina? Or are you not sure?’ Hope smiled. ‘Sometimes it’s hard to work out the exact timings, so please don’t worry if that’s the case.’
‘I think I’m eight months,’ she said, rubbing her hands together as they tingled from the warmth flowing back through her body. Hope was already so different to the nurses in the hospital, who seemed to expect her to know the exact day the baby was conceived. She’d wanted to scream at them that she and Antoine had made love every night they were together, and that she had very little idea of when precisely she’d become pregnant.
‘Did the hospital send you here to me?’
‘Yes,’ she said, before thanking Hope for the coffee that she put in front of her. She placed milk in a little jug between them before sitting down with her.
‘The reason I started this place was to help women who were made to feel unwelcome, for whatever reason, at the hospital or by their families,’ Hope said, and Evelina watched as she wrapped her hands around her coffee mug, glancing down at it before finally looking up at her. ‘I’m horrified that women are treated so badly, often because of circumstances they can’t help, and I want to provide a kind, safe home here for any pregnant woman who might need me. My only worry was that the hospital wouldn’t recommend my services, sending young women to the convent instead, where the church gives very little choice to the mothers in their care.’
‘They said you find new parents for the babies, and that you care for women until the birth?’
Hope smiled. ‘I can, if that’s what the mother wants. But I’ll be honest with you, Evelina,’ she paused. ‘You’re the first woman to knock at my door, so this is as new to me as it is to you.’
Evelina took a sip of her coffee, studying Hope. ‘You’ve never done this before?’
‘I’ve only recently moved here and opened up,’ Hope said. ‘I didn’t realise how difficult it would be to share my house with the community, to get support from those who should be helping women, but who, sadly, are coercing them into making specific choices rather than offering them real support. It seems that no one wants to talk about unwanted pregnancies, even though it’s something that happens frequently to women and girls from all types of families.’
‘I never thought I’d have to give her up,’ Evelina said, staring down into her coffee so Hope wouldn’t see her tears. ‘I thought I’d start a new life here, that it would be easy to find a home to rent, to establish myself…’
She was surprised when Hope leaned across the table, her hand covering Evelina’s.
‘There’s nothing easy about being pregnant and alone, and this war isn’t going to make things any easier, unfortunately. But what I can tell you is that you’re safe here, and we can sit here all day and talk if that’s what you want.’
‘I imagined raising her on my own,’ Evelina whispered, hearing how feeble she sounded, how unrealistic that thought had been. ‘I have money, but it’s running out fast, and?—’
‘You thought the father might change his mind?’ Hope asked, gently. ‘That perhaps the two of you might have had a chance together?’
Evelina looked up, her eyes swimming with tears. ‘Yes.’ It was the truth; shehadthought that Antoine might change his mind, and then when he hadn’t, she’d foolhardily thought that she didn’t need him or any other man. She would never, ever forgive herself for the decisions she’d made.
‘You’re welcome to stay here with me for as long as you want, Evelina,’ Hope said. ‘Whether that’s a week or a month, whether you choose to have your baby here or not, but what I can promise you is that you’ll be safe and cared for, and so will your baby.’
‘What if I don’t want to give her up after she’s born?’
Hope reached for her again, holding her hand. ‘Then you don’t have to. I established this house to give women choices, and it will be your choice, yours alone, whether you want to keep your baby and care for her, or you want me to find a family for her.’
