A Lesser Evil - Lesley Pearse [77]
She thought she’d probably go mad with boredom cooped up in the flat. At least at home she could have sunbathed in the garden and gone to see a few old friends. Dale Street looked so dirty and depressing, and she didn’t want to see any of her neighbours because she knew they’d all be clucking with sympathy over her. How could she explain to anyone how hopeless she felt?
If she looked back, her whole life seemed to have had no point to it, and she could see nothing ahead but more of the same. A baby would have changed everything, they would have moved from here and had all the excitement of turning the new place into a home. The savings they’d got were going to be eaten up while neither she nor Dan could work, and it would probably be another couple of years before they’d be in a position again to buy a place.
‘Here you are,’ Dan said, coming in with a cup of tea and a jam doughnut for her. He put them down on the coffee table and sat down on the other armchair. ‘It’s lovely to have you back home. I hated going to bed without you.’
Fifi began to cry and Dan immediately looked stricken. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, coming over and kneeling in front of her. ‘Are you feeling ill?’
‘I don’t know what’s wrong,’ she sobbed out. That was true; how could she explain that everything which had once been dear to her no longer seemed to matter? She wanted to be alone, but she knew that if she was she’d hate it. She didn’t want to be fussed over, but if people didn’t fuss, that would hurt her too. Everything was contradictory, except her sorrow at losing the baby. That was the only constant thing.
‘Dr Hendry told me you would be weepy for a while,’ Dan said gently, trying to cuddle her. ‘He said there was no quick cure for it, but to make sure you got rest, good food and a bit of exercise. Why don’t you lie down for a bit? I’ll make us some soup or something for lunch, then we could go for a walk in the park.’
‘I don’t want to walk around that scabby park, my insides feel as if they’re falling out,’ she snapped. That wasn’t true. It had felt that way when she first got up in hospital, but the sensation had gone within twenty-four hours. Yet she preferred to have a medical reason for feeling so down, rather than allowing anyone to think she was going a bit crazy.
‘Okay,’ Dan shrugged, ‘we’ll stay here. Why don’t we both go and lie down? It’s a long time since we had a cuddle.’
‘I’m not in a fit state for sex,’ she roared at him. ‘Don’t you ever think of anything else?’
Dan got up and walked away. He turned at the door and looked back at her, his face a picture of hurt and sorrow. ‘Yes, I do think of other things,’ he said. ‘Like how sorry I am we lost our baby, that I couldn’t bring you home today to a nicer place, and that I can’t afford to buy a car so I could drive you somewhere beautiful. I think about how lucky we are that our neighbours have all been so kind. I also think there must be something badly wrong with you if you imagine I’d be after sex when you are so unhappy.’
Chapter nine
Fifi carried her mug of tea into the living room and switched on the radio to hear the eight o’clock news, then sat down by the window. It was three weeks since her miscarriage, and at long last she seemed to have come out of the depressed and miserable state she’d been in. It was Saturday, another beautiful morning, and she thought she would get washed and dressed after her tea, then walk to the shops.
Eva Price, the red-headed woman who lived at number 8, the house next to the coal yard, was on her way to work at the launderette. She was a divorcee and lived alone with her ten-year-old son. She looked very fresh in a pale green dress, with white shoes and handbag, Fifi had noticed she was looking very much smarter lately and wondered if that was because she’d got a new man in her life.
Fifi smiled to herself, remembering how a few days earlier Dan had teased her that she was getting like an old busybody, taking up a grandstand seat to watch the neighbours behind the net curtains.
He was