The sun was rising behind the tower blocks at Priory Park Farm. The sky hung suspended above the city landscape, soaked in a wild, reckless orange, as though a bloody battle was still raging among the clouds.
Leila lay in bed for a time, watching the sky and gathering her courage, until the early morning traffic began to rattle the windows. She wanted desperately to tell David what she planned to do, but he’d be horrified. He liked to play with a straight bat, did David. He’d never countenance this.
I’ll tell him tonight, she decided, when it’s all over, one way or the other. He can’t talk me out of it once it’s all over.
She slid out of bed, took a hurried shower—the hot water was a bossy friend, urging her to hurry—and dressed in the clothes she’d chosen the night before: a skirt, and boots, and the jade velvet jacket she’d bought for David’s ordination.
David was up; in his study, presumably. She lingered, straightening her things and making the bed. She felt a compulsive need to be sure that everything was tidy before she left, as though she might never be back.
She was in the kitchen and checking her route by the time David clumped down the stairs. He was clipping up his dog collar.
‘’Morning,’ she called, too brightly, covertly dropping the road atlas next to her faithful old handbag. ‘Your dad’s still dead to the world. Tea?’
He nodded sombrely, hovering beside her. ‘I’ll make sure I’m in this afternoon,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you to come home to an empty house. Actually, I don’t want to be alone myself. Knowing they’re making the order . . . knowing it’s all over.’
‘Oh, no.’ She screwed up her eyes as if berating herself. ‘That’s why I need the car. We’ve got, um, a staff meeting after work, might need to give someone a lift home afterwards.’ The lie hurt: it stuck in her throat. ‘I’m afraid I’ll be a bit late.’
‘Yes. Yes. Of course. Best to keep busy.’ David slumped into a chair.
She longed to tell him. She felt so lonely in her determination. Instead she asked, ‘What did you pray for this morning?’
He chuckled self-consciously. ‘Um . . . Lord, I don’t want to sound pushy, but if a miracle can happen so that we may have this child, please let it happen, but not if you think she’ll be better off with her own family, obviously, goes without saying, but please bear in mind that we will really love her, and we will cherish her, but if you have other work for us then you have only to show us the way, but on the other hand—’
‘Stop, stop! I get the picture. You’re so bloody good. Why couldn’t you just cash in some of your heavenly credit and insist that the baby be delivered to us, immediately, by Securicor? You’ve given your life to the Lord. You’d think he’d do a little thing like that for you.’
David shrugged, looking sheepish. Leila lifted down a box of cereal and two bowls.
‘D’you want anything to eat?’
He shook his head.
‘Me neither.’ She sighed, sliding the bowls back into the cupboard. ‘You’d better get Christopher up soon, if he’s going to make his funeral.’
David nodded, but she doubted whether he’d heard her. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, as though he’d had no sleep. Unheard of, for him.
‘We just have to get through one more day,’ he said quietly. ‘After this is over we can move on. We will move on, won’t we, and make use of our lives?’
Leila crouched beside his chair, touching his cheek. ‘Yes, we will.’
‘Together?’
‘Together.’
David ran a hand across his face, through his hair. ‘There’s an advertisement in the Church Times for a job. It’s at a theological college in the Philippines.’
‘Crikey.’
He tried to smile. ‘If we’re to be childless, we’ll be free to do these extraordinary things.’
‘Babies can travel in planes, David.’
‘I know. I know. But there’s all the hassle with inoculations and malaria and education. Anyway, I really think we should talk about this one. I’ve had a look on the website. I think you’ll love it.’
‘No harvest supper? No committees? No telephone?’
‘I’m sure they have telephones.’
She kissed him. ‘It sounds very tempting,’ she said, and meant it. ‘Whatever happens, we’ll cope.’
She held her lips on his face for a moment, breathing, taking strength from the familiar warmth of him. It almost felt as though it was for the last time.
Finally, she straightened and stood up. She must do this, come what may. She would never forgive herself if she didn’t make this final effort.
‘I’ve got the mobile, if you need me.’
‘Careful!’ He stood up too. ‘I’ve set it to play “Jingle Bells”. Couldn’t resist. It won’t sound very professional if it goes off in your meeting.’
‘We could do with a bit of light relief.’
In the kitchen doorway she hesitated and then turned back.
‘David.’ Anxiety was writhing in her stomach. ‘I shouldn’t go. But I have to.’
‘No! I wish you’d stay here with me.’ He smiled, pushing her towards the front door. ‘But I’ve got a mountain of things to do, and so have you.’
‘It’ll all be over by tonight,’ she said.