The women regarded each other, Adeline’s brow puckering as they sat in the dawning unspoken truth signalled by Dorothea’s oddly placed hand.
Dorothea swallowed, thought how silence could be loud; could host a cacophony of feeling. ‘I’m having a boy.’
Adeline’s lips parted.
‘I’m having a boy,’ she said again, almost to herself. The knowledge had arrived with a fierce certainty, right at that moment. She simplyknewit.
She swallowed, crossed the room and took Adeline’s hand in hers. ‘I’m pregnant, Adeline. Almost three months along. Will you take him? Will you love him as if he were your own? Please?’
Adeline frowned. ‘How … I mean, are yousureyou’re pregnant?’
Dorothea nodded.
‘What do you mean,take him?’ Adeline’s eyes were glazed in confusion.
‘You want a son, and I am in no position to raise one. I’m … in a pickle, Adeline.’ Dorothea raised her tea to her lips. When she looked up, Adeline gave her a hesitant smile, then her eyes filled with tears.
‘It would mean so much, to know he would be loved.’ Dorothea had a sense that she had been here before, in this room, this conversation. It was strange, unnerving. She could see the face of the boy, so dear and earnest, an old soul. She could see him in Adeline’s arms.
Adeline stubbed out her cigarette. She looked into her lap for a long time and Dorothea wondered briefly if she had offended her. It was big, off-loading your unborn baby. An unexpected thing for a lady to pick up on a Tuesday morning above her local bookshop. But Dorothea shook herself. Sheknewthis was how things were meant to be. Her knowing was as sure and clear as it always was. She couldn’t say how it happened, but she saw the baby, the toddler, climbing into that dark green car with his mother and driving away to the big house. Without warning an eerie rumble of foreboding came over her. She was temporarily frozen, unable to simultaneously process the two things—mother and child happily driving away and some awful prescient sense of doom in the aftermath.
‘We talked about adoption. Edward and I. Last year, but he wasn’t convinced. I wanted to, but he says how could we know if it’s going to be a decent child? Smart and healthy and from the right sort? He was adamant we wouldn’t do it.’ Adeline looked away, embarrassed it seemed by her husband’s line of thought. ‘But I just want a baby to hold.’ She withdrew her hands from Dorothea’s and sat straighter. ‘Do you mean it, Dorothea? Please don’t say it if you don’t mean it.’
‘I mean it. Somehow, I know this is the right thing.’ She pushed away the darker thoughts that were clamouring now.
Adeline nodded, a repetitive movement as she came to some decision. ‘All right. I shall tell Edward I’m pregnant again. You must go away. Soon.Immediately.I’ll find us somewhere. I will join you after a little while. I shall tell him I’m following doctors’ orders to give this pregnancy the best chance. A rest for my health.’
Dorothea frowned. Fear engulfed her suddenly; her resolve slipping at this strange new plan.
Lady Fitz hurried on, her eyes alight. ‘By the sea! Of course! I have a friend who owns a whole village in Devon. A tiny town called Clovelly. A darling place. She rents all the cottages out, right on the sea on the side of a hill! There are always a couple empty for repairs. She’ll help us. I know she will.’
‘But …’ Dorothea whispered, ‘how will I pay my rent? Buy groceries? I need to work.’
Adeline took her hands. ‘Dorothea,Iwill pay. This is the only way. Your reputation will be intact. You can finish your degree, and I promise that I will love your beautiful son with my whole heart.’
Dorothea found herself nodding, although the logistics of the plan felt problematic.
Adeline’s hand flew to her mouth and a squeak of excitement escaped. ‘Thank you, Dorothea. Thank you, my friend.’
Dorothea thought of James, of her university assignments due before the summer break. Would she need to defer the Michaelmas term? Would she be able to begin classes again in the Lent term? She would say she had family who were ill and needed her. Would that work? She would have to see the Dean of Students. Plead her case.
‘I know someone in the English faculty at the university,’ said Adeline, seeming to read her mind. ‘We’ll think of a story. To delay your studies. I’ll bring you books too, when you’re away. Plenty of them.’ Her eyes dropped to Dorothea’s waistband. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she said, frowning. ‘Is that why you’ve looked so ill?’
‘Yes. It’s been terrible. I’ve had nobody to tell. I dare not tell James and ruin his life plans. Plus, I don’t want to marry him. I’m not ready for all that. And Mr Thistlethwaite keeps asking if I’m all right. I wondered if he’d guessed at one point, but I don’t think he has.’
‘Will he keep the job open for you?’
Dorothea hesitated. She thought of this little room over the shop that she adored, of her life here in the village, her beloved books and the university just a few miles away. ‘I can only hope.’
45
DOROTHEA
1966, CAMBRIDGESHIRE, ENGLAND
Dorothea folded the letter she had just received from James.Marvellous, stimulating, challenging. Missing you, my Thea.The words beat a hollow drum in her head. She held the counter with one hand, glad for something familiar and solid to hold her up when all she wanted to do was lie down. Ten months had passed since he left. James had created a thesis. She had created a child. It felt unbalanced, in the achievement stakes. Although, technically, James won, she supposed, because his had taken sustained effort, hers only passive reluctance.
She had held their son only once. Adeline had been handed the boy as soon as he was born. She had tearfully rocked him, thanking Dorothea, but oblivious to all but the child. Adeline had purposely gained some weight, so that when she returned ‘early and unexpectedly’ with their ‘slightly premature’ newborn to Bleddesley House, her husband would not suspect the truth.She had telephoned ahead to report he’d been born too quickly to even inform Edward the baby was on the way!A shock, the labour being so swift and unexpected, but a blessing. And look, they had a beautiful son!
