The Angel in the Corner - Monica Dickens [135]
Virginia ran down the street with her hair flying, crossed through traffic, dreamily aware that cars were close. She ran into a man, staggered, pushed him out of the way and went on. Into the High Street, turn to the left. This was the way she always took Jenny in her pram. She must have gone home without her. How careless. Jenny would be crying, waiting in her pram, and it was cold. Which shop? Which shop had she been to? They all looked familiar, but uncannily familiar, like places glimpsed once in a dream.
She hurried desperately up the High Street with the wind whipping at her dress and her hands turning to ice. People looked at her, and a woman spoke to her, but Virginia ran on, leaving them far behind.
She stopped suddenly, and let out her breath with a gasp of relief. There was the pram, just as she knew it would be, outside the post office. No time to wheel it home. Too cold. She must get home. She must get Jenny home before she coughed again. With a little crooning cry of love, she picked up the baby and hurried home with it across the road, away from the crowd, into the quiet street and quickly through her own front door. Was it the right door? Yes, here was Lennie coming into the passage in his long apron, with his eyes full of wonder and his mouth agape.
Virginia went towards the fire and sat down. The baby was asleep. She hugged it to her, her arms relieved at last of the long ache of holding nothing. She laid her cheek on the woollen shawl which covered its tiny head, and was at peace.
Lennie was standing in front of her. ‘You see?’ Virginia smiled up at him. ‘I did find her. I told you I would.’
‘Where did you get that baby?’ Lennie … Lennie? Virginia frowned at him, narrowing her eyes to try to bring him into focus. It was not like Lennie to speak so sharply.
‘Where did you get that baby?’
Why couldn’t he leave her alone? ‘In the street,’ she said vaguely. She felt suddenly too tired to talk or move any more. ‘Please go away.’ She closed her eyes. She would sit here by the fire with the baby, just holding her like this until the heavy, clouded feeling left her and it was safe to go upstairs.
‘Mrs C. – what’s the matter? You’re not well.’ Why was Lennie’s voice so high and squeaky? Virginia opened her eyes, and saw that his narrow jaw was trembling and his eyes as round as marbles. He was holding out his hands. ‘Give me the baby,’ he said, in that queer, high voice. Then he swallowed and said quietly, soothing her as if she were an idiot: ‘Please let me hold the baby. I’ll mind her for a bit. You stay there and keep quiet, while I – oh, crumbs,’ he said. ‘Oh, crumbs.’
‘I do feel very tired,’ Virginia mumbled. She put her head against the hard, high back of the seat and scarcely felt it when Lennie took the baby from her arms. ‘Look after her, won’t you, Lennie?’ Her voice was thick and clumsy. She was not even sure if she had said the words right.
‘You bet, Mrs C.’ His face blurred and wavered in front of her. Was he leaning forward to look at her, or was she peering at him? He held Jenny nicely. Cosily, like a mother. She drifted away from him into sleep.
*
Joe was shaking her. She struggled out of sleep with a splitting headache, and blinked at him, feeling the seat with the palms of her hands. What was she doing here? She sat up slowly and winced. Her back and shoulders were stiff, and one of her legs was numb. She leaned forward to rub it. ‘I must have dozed off,’ she said. ‘What time is it?’
‘Five o’clock. I’ve just got back. How long have you been here?’
‘I don’t know. I went to sleep. I’m still not awake, I think.’
Joe pulled her to her feet. She stood limply in his arms, leaning against him, savouring his strength and the familiar smell of his skin. ‘Come up to bed,’ he said. ‘You’re fagged out. Come up and I’ll put you to bed. Lennie and I can manage without you tonight’
Lennie? As Joe helped her up the stairs, she saw a picture of Lennie holding a baby, his long apron hanging down under the bundle of baby