Twenty-three years earlier
The fluttering dance in her abdomen woke her, and as she lay there, with her palm splayed over her tummy, she tried to visualise the life growing within. She'd never known colour in its true sense, but over time she conjured in her mind what a blonde haired child might look like, or a red or a brown... Whenever she thought of hair described as the colour of gold, she was reminded of the warmth of the summer sun's rays on her bare arms. The colour brown she likened to the strength of an old tree in a shaded forest, standing strong and with purpose. The spicy heat from a hot chilli pepper was what she imagined to be the colour, red. She smiled to herself as it squirmed away again and responded by patting her swollen stomach. She had no preference for hair colour or sex or her child's potential SPR. It was hers and Charlie's and that was what mattered.
As she drifted back to sleep, Cecily heard the front door quietly open and close and then the hushed voices of her father and brother in the living room next to her bedroom. She reached over to the alarm clock on the night stand and ran her finger over the dials; it was ten past three. Her father worked long hours to try to make his scrap metal business pay, but why were they home so late tonight, where had they been at this hour! She listened carefully, trying to make out their conversation, only hearing the odd word or two. Very soon they turned in for the night and Cecily was left worrying about her father. He seemed so distracted of late, his temper shorter than normal.
A little later, Cecily checked the alarm clock again; it was now four o'clock. She wished she was lying in Charlie's calming embrace instead of worrying about her father and how he was going to react to her news when the time came. Hopefully they would realise that Charlie would look after her and the baby and would grow to love him as a son. She loved her small family dearly, but they were overprotective and gave her little of the independence she strived for. The younger of two children, Cecily was the baby of the family, but being born sightless somehow secured her position as not just the smallest, but the weakest one too. The one whom everybody took great efforts to look after and yet took the least interest in. Sometimes she felt like the house pet, with her Father expecting her to remain home all day and yet become joyous at his arrival home. Her brother was no better. The stronger, older, more independent he became, the more they babied her and it frustrated her immensely.
Adam, her brother, was three years older than Cecily but they had always shared a close bond. He was her best friend, but recently he'd pulled away from her too, now unwilling to share the events in his life and he now unable to share the events in hers. Although saddened by this, she was actually grateful for it. Adam had been the one to persuade her Father to let her take the job at the clinic and stood up for her when her Father continued to argue against it. But lately he seemed too preoccupied to notice the changes in her. She still couldn't believe she had managed to get this far in her pregnancy without it being discovered. She shuddered at the thought of her deceit and the impact it was going to have on them all. Hold on, she said to herself and to the growing child inside, hold on for two more weeks and we will be in the North together, safe.
A couple of hours of light sleep later, she woke to the sound of her Mother's voice.
"Ceccy, can I fix you some breakfast before I run to the shops?" she asked.
Cecily yawned and stretched out her back, but remembering her condition, she hurriedly turned onto her side and shielded her protruding stomach in the folds of the blanket.
"No thank you, Mama," she replied, "I'm not feeling hungry." A wave of nausea washed over her and she fought off the desire to rush to the bathroom and reacquaint herself with the toilet bowl.
"You look pale Ceccy, are you not feeling well again?"
"No Mama, I'm fine, just tired."
"You rest up today, I will be back soon." Her mother padded back out of the room.
She hadn't lied; she felt exhausted. Not a night had gone by in the last few months when she hadn't woken up, filled with worry, excitement and dread. She sat up and placed her bare feet on the rough carpet. Although the morning sickness had improved a great deal, it was always the first few minutes of the day when she felt it worst. Slowly she stood up and walked the few paces over to the chair which held her clothes, placed in small neat piles by her Mother the night before whilst she took her bath. She pulled on the elasticated skirt and then put on a loose-fitting sweater that was long enough to come down to the top of her thighs, hiding her stomach. Her slim frame was comfortably engulfed by the fabric. Her Mother had scolded her the previous night for wanting to wear such ill-fitting clothes and reminded her just how fortunate she was to have such lovely dresses hung up in her wardrobe. Did she not realise all of the overtime her Father had to work extra hard to pay for them.
"But Mama, I don't want to ruin them while I clean the house tomorrow," she had replied...
"Ceccy, you don't have to clean the house. Here, let me get you out the pink shift dress, you always look so lovely in that!"
"Mama, no! I will clean tomorrow. Father has told me he doesn't want me to work for Mr Eastman so much and I will go out of my mind with boredom if I don't have anything to do."
"Oh baby, it's just that he loves you and things are a bit tense in the area at the moment. He just wants to protect you, please don't be so hard on him."
"I know Mama, but please don't make me wear that dress."
"Okay then, night sweetheart."
Cecily replayed part of the conversation over again as she dressed. She had been aware of a little tension amongst her neighbours, but her Father had never used it as an excuse to keep her home before. She made her way to the bathroom and splashed cold water over her face. Nausea abated, she brushed her teeth, tied up her hair and left for the kitchen to make breakfast, her stomach grumbling furiously. She moved fluidly round the kitchen and instinctively knew where everything was kept, although her Mother insisted on doing all of the cooking. That was another thing Cecily was looking forward to in her new life with Charlie. She would make him a wonderful first meal in their new house, wherever that may be. At the counter, she located the bread bin and carefully put two slices into the toaster. Her stomach growled loudly and she smiled to herself. This baby was making her feel sick one minute and utterly ravenous the next. The sound of the bread popping up in toaster, prompted her to take the butter from the fridge. It was always kept on the third shelf up on the left. She opened the cutlery drawer and felt for a knife and then carefully prepared the hot toast. The warm, buttery taste overwhelmed her senses and she popped two more slices of bread in the toaster to satisfy this latest craving. Once replete, she placed her plate and knife in the sink, returned the butter to the fridge and wiped down the counter top.
For a couple of hours, she busied herself with cleaning, taking great care to dust and polish the few precious ornaments her mother had collected over the years. She picked up the old, chipped figurine of a babe cradled in its Mother's arms. This was her favourite. Her Father had found it when doing he did a house clearance years earlier. It was a fine piece of porcelain, even with the crack in the base and the chip on the Mother's skirt. She ran her finger over the intricate moulding and could actually feel the joyous smile on the Mother's face and the serene expression on the baby. That would be her in a few months, holding her infant child. Oh how she was missing Charlie! He had been so busy lately, with work, with planning their new life together and her Father's insistence that she remain home. Suddenly she had the urge to go to him, to have him hold her and dispel the worries keeping her up most nights. She placed the porcelain figure back down on the mantelpiece and walked over to the hallway. It was early February and still very cold. She grabbed her woollen coat and scarf and dressed quickly, putting on her warm boots. She picked up her cane, her keys and opened the door. With great care, she navigated the small path that led away from the house and then followed the wooden fence around the corner to her neighbour's house.
"Ah dear Cecily, what can I do for you today?" said Nancy, with a friendly, loud voice.
"Hi Nancy," she said nervously, hoping her mother was still busy at the shops. "I need to go to the clinic to help Dr Eastman complete some paperwork. Is there any chance you could take me?" she asked.
"Come inside honey. It just so happens that I have some deliveries to make for John, so of course I can. But where is Adam or your Dad?"
"Oh they are busy with work and Mama is shopping. Are you sure you don't mind?"
"Not at all, we can have a good chat on the way. I haven't seen you for a while. Dr Eastman isn't working you too hard I hope, although I have to say you are looking really pretty today. You have a lovely rosy glow about you."
Cecily gave a shy smile, choosing not to respond.
"John, I am off to do some deliveries, I'll be as quick as I can" she called out, picked up her keys and a wrestled with a large box.
"How is he Nancy, has the swelling gone down yet?"
"He's getting there, everyday sees some improvement. Problem is he isn't used to sitting on his bum all day. The man likes to work, needs to work to feel useful. We are on the last boxes of stock, so if he isn't up and about soon, things might get difficult."
"Did his work ever apologise for the accident, offer any compensation? After all, it was their fault he hurt his leg."
Nancy laughed as she opened the car door and helped Cecily get in and then went around the old van and got in herself.
"Since when does any employer here care for their worker's health? They sacked the poor sod operating the machine, but never actually checked the machine itself. If it wasn't for the beer he makes we wouldn't have an income at all. It would be just our luck if somebody grassed us up to the authorities about that. Then he would be in prison and I would be on the streets and in my condition too!"
Cecily turned sharply towards Nancy "Are you telling me what I think you are telling me?" she asked.
"Yep" said Nancy excitedly. "I am now twenty weeks pregnant. Never thought it would happen for us and it hasn't come at the best of times, but I feel like life is about to turn a corner and get better."
"Oh, that's wonderful, I'm so happy for you," Cicely replied. She longed to share her news but couldn't. Any slip of information could get back to her father and then where would she be?
"Thank you. How is your Dad?" Nancy asked.
"Oh busy, tired, grumpy."
"No change then."
"I suppose not," said Cicely and they dissolved into giggles.
"Have you heard why the patrols have been increased in the area recently?" Nancy questioned.
"Have they? I hadn't heard they had, but as you know I tend to be the last person to be told stuff in our house." Cicely sighed, heavily.
"Oh dear, still like that is it?"
"Yep! So what has been happening?"
"Well, it all started two weeks ago. They put patrols on each street, like they are looking for something. A lot of the men folk have been taken in for questioning and then released without charge. Something to do with the uprising two years back, but no one seems to know much more than that. I thought you might know because they had your Dad and brother in last night."
"Did they?" Cecily's voice squeaked in surprise. "Mama never mentioned it this morning."
"Oh well, not to worry. They both came home, so no harm done, although you could cut the tension around here with a knife."
For the rest of the journey they remained quiet, contemplating the patrols and the questioning.
"Thanks for the lift, Nancy, give my love to John and look after that little one inside," Cecily said.
"You're welcome."
"Bye."
Cecily pulled open the door and took in a deep breath. The scent of cleaning fluids hung heavy in the air. Her stomach rumbled again and she wished she had brought a snack with her. Maybe Charlie had some of those boiled sweets he knew she loved so much. Excited to see him, she burst in the room.
"Charlie, I swear this child of yours is eating enough for ten babes. I am utterly ravenous," she said with a laugh.
The temperature of the room seemed to plummet and she instinctively knew someone other than Charlie was also in the room. Her heart started beating hard in her chest and then she heard a voice which swamped her with fear.
"You have knocked that up!" shouted Briggs, the army man who she had met on numerous occasions, but who had never once spoken to her. He terrified her and now she had stupidly put everything at risk.
"Have you no self-control man?" his voice spat out the words.
A couple of hours later, Charlie pulled up the car around the corner from her house. Cecily was exhausted from crying, from the shock and from the decisions that now had to be made. He gently patted her tummy and her resolve nearly left her.
"I will be back in two hours. I'll tap on your window and then you can then sneak out the back door. Don't worry about packing; I have taken care of everything. The journey will take a few hours, but we'll be out of the way before any repercussions set in. Just think, this time tomorrow we can begin our new life together. You, me and the baby."
Cecily let out another sob, having fought so hard and failed to regain her composure.
"I love you Cecily, you mean the world to me."
"I love you too, always remember that," Cecily said quietly, the last part barely a whisper.
"Okay, let's get you inside."
"Charlie, could you take me to Nancy's house first? I just need to see her about something."
"Alright, but you make sure she walks you home later," his voice filled with concern, increased the ache in her heart. She felt she could barely breathe for the pain.
Charlie guided Cecily to Nancy's front door and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Hold on just a couple more hours." He wiped away the tears that now fell silently in heavy drops down her cheeks. "Bye," he said and walked off.
"Goodbye," she tried to say, but her mouth couldn't form the word.
Charlie's car door shut quietly and he quickly sped off. She knocked on the door and after a moment, the door opened and Cecily collapsed into the arms of her friend.
"Ceccy, what on earth is the matter?" Nancy asked, struggling to hold her up. Cecily's crying had now turned to a low moan. "Come my lovely, let me get you warm by the fire and then you can tell me all about it."
It took Nancy over an hour to calm her friend enough to be able to get her to explain what the problem was. When Cecily had finished her traumatic tale, she gave Nancy instructions and asked her to write a letter on her behalf.
My dearest Charlie,
Today I saw how much you have risked for me, for us. I cannot and will not see such a good, strong man reduced to a flawed common criminal. If you come away with me, we shall forever be looking over our shoulders, fearing our own shadows. You are a good man Charlie, a man who the people of this area rely on greatly. You have a great future ahead of you in medicine and you will make a difference. I just cannot do it with you. I am flawed, our child will be flawed and that is too much of a burden to expect you to shoulder. Make amends with Briggs, apologise for hitting him and move on with your life. He is a dangerous man and he will be our undoing if we continue in this folly. I am going to go away and start a fresh. Please do not worry about me, I will be fine. I am far stronger than most people think, although I think you know that already, don't you? Just remember that I loved you with all my heart and it is because of this love that I now risk breaking yours. My friend Emma is going to give you this letter and tell my parents of my plans. Please don't take it out on her; she knows nothing more than this.
Take care, please love again,
Cecily x
Nancy stopped writing. Cecily's tears had finally stopped falling and she appeared calm and collected.
"Are you really sure you want to do this?" Nancy asked, her voice breaking.
"Yes" came Cecily's reply.
"But Cecily, where will you go, what will you do? For god's sake you are blind. You can't just run away!"
"If it's ok with you, I'll rest here for a bit and then be off. I have a friend who will help me; I just need to give him a call."
"Is there anything I can say to change your mind?"
"No," Cecily answered fiercely and Nancy knew that there was nothing she could do.
A little while later Nancy left to go and talk to Cecily's parents, before she needed to intercept Eastman when he arrived at the house. She felt sick with the weight of the messages she was about to deliver. She shivered and grabbed the nearest coat on the hook, Cecily's red woollen one. She wrapped it up tight and left the house. John had gone to sleep earlier, having drunk too much of his homebrew. At least he would be oblivious to the deeds she about to perform for the time being. With a heavy heart she set off out the door.
Cecily sat in the fireside chair and rested. She patted her stomach, as the small life inside twisted and turned about. She quietly sung an old sung to her baby, one that her mother used to sing to her. The tune was a slow, mournful song about a beautiful magpie that had lost her mate to a fox and was now having to keep her eggs in the nest warm, all alone. Over and over she sang the words, waiting for her friend to return until she fell asleep, where her dreams temporarily took away her pain.
But then the shooting started.