19

 

Bel was early to drop Mia at Melindi’s. Her friend was distracted. More than that, unhappy.

Bel stepped carefully to avoid bits of Lego. The normal happy clutter had doubled, bordering on flat-out chaos.

Safely in the kitchen, Melindi spooned instant coffee into cups of steaming water, added sugar, milk, and forgot to stir.

Bel pulled the cup towards her and fetched her own spoon from the drawer.

Melindi wrinkled her nose apologetically. “Sorry. My mind is elsewhere.”

Bel waved off her apology. “Are you sure you’re ready for this little handful today?”

Melindi shrugged, but the frown remained settled between her brows. When she did speak, she sounded off. “Are you sure you want to leave Mia with me?”

“Melindi, what’s up? Are you feeling sick?

“It’s nothing, really. It seems that all the decisions I’ve made lately are the wrong ones.” She sipped coffee and put it down in disgust. “Give me that spoon.” She reached over and took it.

“Something has happened. You can tell me.”

“No, not at all. I’m just…” She trailed off, not finding the words to convey what was going on inside. She checked her watch. “You’d better get a move on. You are going to be late.”

 

****

 

Liam hung around the stairwell feeling like a stalker. He’d watched from a distance as Isobel arrived. When she didn’t come down again he moved into position. Without thinking, he hitched his collar up, peering over the top of it, trying to blend in.

A car door slammed in the parking lot and his nerve gave in. He turned tail to leave, but then turned back. Something had to change or he’d go loopy. He was trying to decide if he should leave, when three ladies came around the corner, nearly bumping into him.

“Morning!” As wide as she was high, the short lady grinned sunshine at him from her round face, while her friend in grey frowned and hurried past, clutching her bag closer to her chest.

Another lady with a mop of hair that stuck out like feathers on a duster was digging in her bag. She muttered something about again and walked straight into him, grinding his toes into the pavement. “Oh my! I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

Liam gave his toes an experimental squeeze and winced. “I’ll live.” He plunged in before he could change his mind. “Are you ladies in Isobel’s class?”

The foot squasher was still fretting over his foot and her open handbag, but the round lady answered for them all. “We are. What’s it to you?” She looked him up and down critically, as if trying to figure out which box he fitted into in her head.

Liam turned down the collar on his jacket and ran nervous fingers through his hair. “Isobel is in danger, and I need your help.”

The lady in grey stepped back out of the doorway. “What’s going on?”

“Ladies, there is a coffee shop across the road from here. Meet me after your lesson.” He eyed one skeptical face after another and added, “Please?”

The ladies left with no promises and he sat down on the bottom step as if all the strength had drained from his legs. Lost in thought, he didn’t hear the footsteps until they came to rest in front of him. He recognized the sneakers.

“What are you doing here?” Isobel asked.

“I just wanted to see how you are.”

“I’m great. Never been happier. I need to get back to my class.”

“Mia? How is she?”

“Mia is fine. Liam, please.”

“And the guy? Who is he? You need to be careful—”

“Stop! I don’t want to hear it. I am over your paranoia. I can’t live there. I won’t.” She turned on her heel and ran back upstairs, leaving behind whatever it was she had come down to fetch.

Liam ignored the writhing mass of toxic doubt that churned behind his ribs. Maybe it was all in his head, blown out of proportion because it had hit too close to home. God, maybe I should give up. I am doing no good. Just causing more heartache. My own heart is raw and bleeding. Who can see straight with a heart in that state?

He heard the words, not with his ears, but reverberating in every fibre of his being. A fierce response of a love stronger than death…

You cannot give up. I never give up on you.

 

****

 

It was the darkest corner of the coffee shop. The shop itself favoured feminine clientele. A lady’s touch dripped from every blossomed curtain and each delicate tie-back. Soft violins filled the air with melancholy.

Determined to keep his voice low, he’d squeezed in enough chairs around one tiny table for them all to sit close. He could only hope the finely carved chair under his rear would hold him up long enough to recruit some back up. All six of them were crammed in, elbow to elbow, hunched forward like conspirators on a mission.

Introductions were over and Kez-Lyn was the first to speak. “Should I come sit on your lap, Mischa? It would be more comfortable than this.”

Round Mischa was more red-in-the-face than usual. “Honestly, Kez? No. Just no.”

“Sorry, ladies.” Liam wore the sheepish look that had rescued him from the brunt of many a teacher’s irritation back in the day.

Savannah, being more comfortable in sweat than the others, was quick to pull their focus back. “We’re here because we love Bel. What’s up?”

Liam squirmed, knowing how crazy this would sound. “I have no proof, but there is something going on in this town that has put Isobel and Mia in the path of terrible danger. She thinks I’m paranoid and won’t listen. I was hoping you could make her see sense.”

“You‘ll need to tell us more than that, sunshine.” Jules spread her perfectly manicured hands, fingers beating rhythmic impatience on the table.

Liam nodded. “Babies have been taken. The pattern is always the same—single mom, mom disappears, and the baby is supposedly taken into the welfare system. I think Mia was next in line to go, but Bel happened to be there to intercept the pickup and mess up the plan. Now, I think they are after her. Bel doesn’t see it; she doesn’t want to hear. I can understand completely—after all she’s been through. But I can’t do nothing and see this happen all over again.”

Jules frowned. “What do you mean, again?”

Maggie had sat quietly through the whole exchange, watching. She sat forward in her chair, regarding Liam with the intensity of a mom smelling smoke on her teenager. “Why does this matter so much to you? You care for her, don’t you?”

Jules wasn’t satisfied. “No, wait. Maggie, just give me a moment. You said again. I heard you. What do you mean?”

“I’m a doctor. It’s my job to care for the people in this town. That’s all.” A muscle twitched in Liam’s jaw.

Kez-lyn was shaking her head. “I don’t know ladies. If he can’t be honest with us, why should we trust him?”

Mischa moved her chair back an inch. “I agree.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get home.”

Chairs scraped on the floor, singing a sour chorus of doom.

Something snapped deep inside Liam. A tightly coiled grip on the past, on his emotions. He erupted. “What do you ladies want to hear me say? That I love Isobel?”

Silence. No chairs. No movement.

“I do.” A mere whisper, yet a shockwave of truth rippled through him.

Maggie sat down. “So what can we do?”

 

****

 

Mia had a plastic silver crown in a death grip. She would not budge.

Isobel pulled her out the way and squashed herself against the neat rows of tinned baked beans to let a lady and her trolley rattle past. The shop was claustrophobically full.

Mia held up the crown with eyes that sparkled.

Isobel had no intention of buying the gaudy silver mess. She had spoken nicely, tried a bribe, now she was on the verge of outright begging. The crown was cheap enough: she could easily have bought it for Mia without affecting the budget. The issue here was control.

Roric had warned her that this would be coming. Stick to your guns. Don’t give in. Show her who is boss.

“Mia, put that down. We’re going.”

“Want it. Peez, Mine?”

“No. Not today. Come now.”

“Peez, Mine?”

To hear such a tiny person do her best at asking nicely was enough to melt Bel.

But Roric’s warnings rang loud in her head. Establish your authority now, or you will have lost the battle. You’ll be twisted around her little finger forevermore.

Torn between her instincts and his advice, Bel lost it.

“No! Stop it now!”

Mia’s eyes shot wide, filled with tears, and she threw the crown with such force, that it bounced.

Bel grabbed her by the arm, left her full shopping trolley there in the aisle, and pulled her towards the exit.

Mia lost her footing and fell on her knees, grazing them. Blood ran down her leg, staining her socks.

Bel could feel the eyes of the shoppers on her. She wanted to run. Leave Mia and run.

A purple-rinsed granny shuffled past in tweed and old lady shoes, offering a lavender scented tissue.

Embarrassed beyond herself, Bel waved the tissue away, picked up Mia—which made her scream—and aimed herself at the nearest exit. By the time she got to the car, she was shaking with emotion.

Mia was red in the face and still screaming.

One thought stared Bel down like a bull to her red flag. As much as she’d longed for motherhood, it was time to get honest. I am not cut out for this.