Charles kissed her cheek and gave her bag to the driver, and Hope stood back to look from him to the house. It had come to feel like home to her, even in such a short time, and she knew that if for some reason she didn’t return, she’d never forget the magnolia tree welcoming her beside the red front door, or the warmth of being in a household in which there was no judgement. It was everything her family home had never been.
‘Hope, before you go…’
She turned back to Charles, not liking the edge of concern in his voice.
‘Before you arrived, I wasn’t keeping so well with my health,’ he said. ‘I just, well, I wanted you to know, in case anything happened while you were gone, just how much you’ve come to mean to me. You’re like the daughter I never had.’
If she’d been emotional before, now her heart felt as if it were breaking all over again, and it was all she could do not to sink to her knees and cry.
‘Charles, do you need me to stay? If you’re unwell, if there’s something you’re trying to tell me…’
‘No, not at all, I want you to do what you feel is best. I only wanted you to know how much I care about you.’
Hope walked backwards a few steps, needing to leave now before she changed her mind. It would be too easy to stay. But then what? She couldn’t live in her uncle’s home as the unmarried mother of a baby. It wouldn’t be right. She had to do what was best for all of them, no matter what he said.
‘Thank you, Charles. I’ll never forget your kindness,’ Hope said. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
He lifted his hand to wave. ‘Yes, I’ll see you again soon, Hope.’
She waved back and got into the car, knowing in her heart that she was doing the right thing, but wishing she didn’t have to all the same.
When Hope arrived at the convent almost an hour later, it was immediately clear to her that it was no home from home. The sisters were stern and clearly disapproving of her condition, even though she’d slipped a modest ring on her finger, hopingthey might think she’d simply fallen on hard times rather than come to give birth as an unmarried woman.
‘This is your room,’ said the sister who’d met her at the door and taken her through the cold, concrete building. ‘You share two to a room, you’re expected to keep it spotless, and you’ll be given your list of chores in the morning after breakfast.’
Hope nodded, keeping one hand on her stomach as if she might be able to shield her baby from the sense of foreboding she herself was feeling. She was only grateful the sister finally left her alone as she made to walk into the room.
‘Don’t expect any of them to give you a smile.’
Hope looked up from where she was standing to see a young woman with long brown hair caught in a braid leaning against the doorway. She couldn’t help but notice the swell of her stomach, which appeared to be even larger than her own.
‘I’m Doris, your roommate.’
‘Hope,’ she said.
‘They work us as if they’re trying to force us into an early labour, and I’m fairly certain the only time they’ll actually smile and look happy is when they take our babies,’ Doris said, moving past Hope to flop onto one of the beds. ‘They’re evil.’
‘I thought they were supposed to love babies?’
‘Ha! Well, they might love the babies, but they don’t like the sinners who give birth to them, and they make certain to remind us of that every chance they get.’
Hope shuddered at the word. She didn’t like to think of herself as a sinner; the fact that she and Gus had made a baby had seemed beautiful at the time, and she refused to think of it in any other way. If he’d still been here, she knew they would have loved their child as fiercely as any parent could.
‘You know, they seem to forget that we can’t get pregnant on our own, but they don’t care who the father is. He gets to move on to the next girl, and we’re left to deal with the consequences.’
Hope found herself nodding, but her mind was a million miles away. She agreed, of course she did, but it wasn’t men she was thinking about right now.
‘Imagine if there was a place young women could go to feel loved and cared for when they were in our position,’ Hope said. ‘I think that’s what I’d do, if I ever had the chance to do good in the world. For the girls and women like us, when they needed someone the most.’
Doris shook her head. ‘Not me. I want to get far away from here and never even think about babies or children again.’
Hope lay there, staring at the ceiling as Doris prattled on about her swollen ankles and the uncaring sisters in charge. She missed her uncle; she missed his house with the shiny red door; but most of all, she missed Gus. She missed knowing what her future held and being in charge of her own destiny; of the headstrong, determined young girl she’d once been and the woman she’d become.
If only she could find the path back to happiness; if only there was a way for her to keep the child that she so desperately wanted and leave this place. Because if she felt there was any other option, she’d have grabbed her bag in one hand and the hem of her skirt in the other and run as fast as her enormous belly could move, and headed straight for the door. But there was no other way she could see, no path forward that led anywhere but here.
‘Is there anywhere else we could go?’ Hope asked. ‘Is this really the only place?’
Doris sighed. ‘There’s nowhere, or at least nowhere my parents could find when they were looking. They wanted me shipped off as quickly as possible, and they don’t want to hear from me until it’s over.’
