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“Good for children to play…” I eye-point down to the growing swell of her belly and her teeth flash white. “… And we get you a dog. Preferably more than one.”
Her mouth opens, then closes. “A dog?”
“Yes. Something big. German shepherd. Rottweiler maybe. The kind of dog where if anyone gives you a hard time, it'll give them a really bad day.”
“I’ve never had a dog.”
“I grew up with them. No one will protect you the way they will. I’ll make sure the fences are sound, and the dog, or dogs, will keep them safe for you.”
“Okay. That makes sense.” She wraps her hands around the mug. “Hickman?”
“Hmmm?”
“When the baby’s born, can I… Can I put your name on the birth certificate?”
Something glows inside me. “I… was hoping you would.”
Her smile broadens. “And later, for any others, it would be your name anyway.”
I glow inside. “Listen, Katya, once we’ve got this place basically fit to live in and I know you’re settled, would you be okay by yourself for a couple of weeks? I’ve got wind of a job. Some guy looking for a bodyguard for his wife. Says she's being stalked.”
She cocks a brow. “Says?”
I rub my nose. “I’ll admit, it sounds to me like she's dining from a side-plate, but who knows? Maybe she does have a stalker. The point is, it will only be for a week or so, but the pay’s good. Enough to keep us afloat for a couple of months at least. And in that time, I'll find something else.”
She swallows. “You’ll be here for when the baby's born?”
“Yes. I’ll make sure of that. And for long enough afterward to be sure you're both alright. After that, I'll need to get back to work.” I shrug and smile. “I have a family to support.”
“I've got the diamonds. It’s not as though they’ve got sentimental value. We could sell them. Or hock them.”
“Yes, we could, but if we did it too quickly, we’d have to go through a fence. We’d get ten per cent of value. If we were lucky.”
“We’ve got to eat.”
“Of course we do. But it’s better if I keep the income flowing. If it’s what you want to do, we’ll sell the diamonds bit by bit and carefully. Get your full value for them.”
“I could get a job myself. Then it's not all on you. Something at the local school or the library. Or maybe there’d be someone looking for a bookkeeper.”
“You could, but you still might find it hard going while the baby’s small.”
She hunches a little. “Is that how it's going to be for us?”
“Katya, you know what I do for a living. You think I know how to teach kids or work figures?” She shakes her head, looking unhappy. “Are you scared of being alone while I’m away? I didn't have you down as the nervous type?”
She straightens up, blows air. “No, you’re right. I'm not. But I'm still getting used to the idea of what my life is going to be now. Here among strangers.”
She clucks. “Still, I suppose it's no different to having a husband in the military. Sometimes you have to send them out on a morning and hope he'll be back in six months.”
Ahh… Christ…
“Katya, I won't abandon you. Or the baby. Or… any other children we might have. But this is my life. The reality. I'll send whatever money I can. And there'll be plenty of it. What I do pays well when you know where to ask. But it does mean I have to be away.”
“Hey!”
Both our heads turn, following the call from somewhere outside.
“Hey!” it repeats. “Anyone at home?” The accent sounds rustic. The tone friendly.
