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She tilts her head to regard me. “I expect you have a poor opinion of us, Ruth.”
I can’t deny it.
Cristina continues in her prettily accented tone. “I can understand why, but please, be assured, you are in no danger here. This is our home. You are a guest, and as such you are welcome.” She pauses, then, “You need to understand, this is our private sanctuary. We bring up our children here. My husband would never expose our families to violence or danger, nor your little one.”
I consider what she’s said. “I want to believe you, but I can’t take the risk. I have to protect my baby.”
“Morgan is safe here. You, too. You have my word. Of course you may leave if you choose, but do so because you wish to, not because you are too frightened to stay.”
Morgan fidgets in my arms, having fed as much as she seems to want. I place her over my shoulder and rub slow, comforting circles on her back, then wrinkle my nose at the ominous scent wafting from her nappy.
Cristina notices, too. “Please, let me.” She holds out her arms to take the baby. “You can enjoy your tea in peace.”
“You’ll stay in here with her?” I’m not quite ready to let her out of my sight yet.
“Of course.”
I hand Morgan over. “I gather there are nappies and suchlike in that cupboard.”
Cristina gathers up the items needed for the task in hand and croons softly to Morgan while she cleans her up.
I sip my tea and try to work out what I should do next. My musings are interrupted by another knock at the door.
“That will be Faith, I expect.” Cristina lifts her gaze from her task. “Shall I let her in?”
“Faith? Faith is here? But, how…?
“She lives on the island,” Cristina informs me. “She has a cottage overlooking the southern cliffs. Shall I—?”
“Yes. Yes!” It never occurred to me that Faith would be here. At the time of my mother’s death, I was so wrapped up in my own misery, I never thought to ask her about herself. My spirits soar.
Cristina hands the now far more fragrant baby back to me and goes to the door.
“Is she awake?” Faith’s voice.
Cristina opens the door wide, and Faith bustles in.
I momentarily forget my sprained ankle and almost leap out of bed before better sense and agonising pain prevail. “Faith!” I squeal. “I can’t believe it. I had no idea…”
“Ah, lass, it’s good to see you. I’ve been so worried, and when I heard about the fire…”
She wraps her arms around me, and I bury my face in her motherly bosom. I’m sharply reminded of my still raw loss. “It was awful. Terrifying. Jack saved us, both of us, me and Morgan. We were trapped inside…”
“I know. But you’re safe now, thank the dear Lord. I’m so glad Jack brought you home. I always knew he would, eventually. He’s a good lad, that one. Under all the chest thumping.”
“Chest thumping?”
“Oh, you know what men can be like. Especially these lot. Soft as pussy cats underneath.”
Cristina lets out a chuckle. “I can second that. Please, let me have that child back before you crush her between the pair of you.”
I relinquish Morgan, then prop myself up against the pillows. Maybe, just maybe, itissafe to relax. To just chat.
“This is all so weird…” I begin.
“It is unconventional, this is true,’ Cristina agrees. “Would you like me to show you around the island? Or would you prefer to do that with Jack?”
“Can you just tell me about it for now?”
