Break of Dawn

‘He brought me here but he had to go straight home, due to work commitments. I thought I would stay on for a few days, if that is convenient?’


Sophy was stunned. The last person in the world she’d expected to see sitting in her drawing room was Patience, and to be truthful she didn’t know how she felt about having her here. She spoke to few people these days, and then only when it was absolutely necessary. She rose even later in the mornings than she’d been accustomed to, went to the theatre and said her lines and returned home straight after the performance. In the interval between the matinée and evening show, she kept her dressing-room door closed and discouraged visitors. She knew she had retreated into herself and that Kane and Sadie, probably others too, were worried about her, but it was the only way she could cope. She didn’t want to see anyone and she didn’t need anyone. She wouldn’t let herself ever need anyone again.

Politely, she said, ‘Of course you must stay,’ but with no enthusiasm in her voice.

Ignoring the tone, Patience said, ‘Thank you.’

Sadie knocked on the door and then came in with the usual tray of sandwiches and coffee which Sophy ate on returning from the theatre, Tilly following behind with a similar one for Patience. Patience introduced Tilly, explaining it had been William who insisted the housekeeper accompany her, and after the two servants had left the room, Sophy looked more intently at her cousin. ‘You’ve lost weight.’

‘I couldn’t keep anything down for what seemed a lifetime.’ Patience smiled, her hand unconsciously going to her swollen abdomen, and as Sophy’s gaze followed the action she became aware for the first time of the mound beneath Patience’s loose-fitting dress.

Fascinated, she found she couldn’t tear her eyes away. ‘How many more weeks are there to go?’

‘Eleven or so, but the way it kicks and moves about I wouldn’t be surprised if it comes early. It seems impatient to see the world. It’s kicking now. Do you want to feel?’

Without waiting for a reply, Patience took Sophy’s hand and placed it over the baby, who obligingly kicked for all it was worth. Sophy froze, but inside her something was happening to the lead weight plugging her emotions as though the core of it was melting. ‘Don’t be in a hurry to be born into this world, little baby,’ she whispered, so softly Patience could barely make out the words. ‘Stay where you’re safe and warm and protected.’

The baby kicked again and now Sophy removed her hand to cover her eyes with both hands. She felt as though she was drowning in pain made up of a sadness and despair that came from the depth of her. It was cracking her ribs, a flood of molten misery that had its origins before Toby’s betrayal, before Cat’s death, even before finding out the truth of her parentage. It was the hurt and helplessness of a small child knowing itself to be unloved, of knowing it didn’t belong to anyone, that it was scorned and held as undesirable, but without knowing why.

When the release came it was on a wailing cry which brought Sadie and Tilly running from the kitchen. Sophy was aware of Patience’s arms about her, of Sadie’s voice saying, ‘She hasn’t cried, that’s the thing. It’s not good if you don’t cry, is it? This’ll do her good in the long run, you mark my words,’ but she was beyond responding.

After some minutes, the nurse in Patience took control. Still cradling Sophy in her arms, she looked up at Sadie. ‘Has she been prescribed anything to help her sleep?’

‘The doctor gave her some pills but she won’t take them.’

‘She’ll take them tonight,’ said Patience grimly. ‘Go and fetch them, please, with a glass of warm milk, and once they begin to take effect we’ll get her upstairs. I’ll stay with her tonight – she mustn’t be left.’

It was another few minutes before Sadie and Tilly half-carried Sophy to her bedroom where they undressed her like a child and got her into bed, a stone hot-water bottle at her feet. Patience came into the room a minute or two later in her nightdress, by which time Sophy’s crying had diminished to the odd hiccuping sob.

‘She’ll be all right, ma’am, won’t she?’ said Sadie, tears in her voice after Patience had thanked the two women for their help and told them she would take over now.

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