My finger stroked down the alphabet tabs of the address book and paused on the “K.” Alex would come. My suitcase would fit in his new “family-friendly car.” Alex owed me that much, after everything I’d done for him: letting him know he was going to be a father, liaising back and forth between him and Ruth, keeping his secret safe from Dominic. Alex would help me.
He picked up after the second ring, his voice a boom in my ear. “Hello?”
“Alex,” I whispered.
“Laura? Is that you?”
I sank onto the chair next to the hall table, my knees trembling. “Alex, can you come? I need you.”
There was a pause, and then what sounded like a laugh. “She’s had it, hasn’t she? I’m on my way.”
“No,” I said. “No.” But he’d already hung up. The receiver fell into my lap. I looked up to find Ruth standing halfway down the stairs, holding her baby. She stared at me.
“Ruth,” I said. I managed to stand.
“You told him, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to, Ruth, I swear.”
“He’s coming for her, isn’t he?” Her face was white.
I curled my arms around my abdomen. “I just want to go home.”
She came down the last few steps, her knuckles bloodless against the yellow baby blanket, her eyes darting around the hall.
“I need to hide her,” she said. “Where can I hide her? I can’t let him take her.”
The baby gave a high-pitched, reedy wail.
“Shh, shh,” Ruth said, and then pushed the baby at me. “Take her. Hide her. Keep her quiet. Please, Laura.”
I didn’t want to hold the child, but she quieted in my arms. She felt solid, heavy compared to the two I’d just given birth to, her sturdy legs drawing up toward her body and then stretching out strongly. She turned her face into my neck, her mouth open, making pecking movements.
“She’s hungry,” I said, and the baby confirmed this with another creaky cry.
Ruth strained on tiptoes to wrestle the bolt across the top of the front door. Her face was white, her forehead glistened with sweat. She pressed her forehead against the window, peering down the drive toward the lane.
“What am I going to do?” Her whole body quivered. “He’ll be here any minute. He’s going to take her. I can’t let him take her.”
A wave of dizziness hit me, and I leaned back in the chair.The baby gave a full-voiced wail. When Ruth spun around, her pupils were enormous.
“Give her to me.” She snatched the child from my arms, and then we both heard it: the growl of an approaching car engine. Ruth stood motionless in front of me, clutching the now-silent baby to her chest, and she kept her gaze locked on mine as we held our breaths and listened. The engine roared, then cut out amidst a rattle of gravel. Two car doors slammed, one sharp crack after the other. I braced myself against the crash of the door knocker.
“Ruth? It’s Alex. Can you let me in please?” His voice was loud but controlled.
Ruth kept her back to the door, her eyes on me. My heart thudded.
“Who’s that with you?” she shouted.
“She’s a maternity nurse. I just want to see my baby.”
There was a thump on the front door; the letter box rattled.
“She’s not yours!” Ruth yelled.
There was an exchange of murmurs outside.
“She’s a girl? Ruth? Let me in. I just need to see that she’s safe.”
