Page 59 of Unwell
I slammed the trunk shut, rain pelting my face and mud clinging to my uniform.The wheel slipped against the mud, lurching as I cursed. Digging my foot down, the transmission screamed, until, at last, the gloopy ground released me. I tore down the track, squinting through the windscreen as my wipers flipped furiously.
The farmhouse shrank behind me.
I had to reach Ginny and get her strapped down and sedated until the child was safe.
THIRTY-FIVE
GINNY
The baby wriggled in my arms, sweet and soft and lovely.
Pink and new in my arms. I wished I had something warm to wrap her in, but there was nothing comforting in the basement. Only hard and cold and harsh. Her skin was still slick with the mess of birth and I used the bottom of my nightdress to gently wipe her down.
I did it. I brought my sweet girl earth side all on my own. Tiny fists opened and closed as she reached out for me. For her mama.
Pressing her to my chest had her cries softening to tender whimpers as she nuzzled against my shoulder.
I stroked her damp hair, fascinated with each of thedowny strands. If she were bathed, it would likely be the colour of straw, much like my own.
Pulling open my nightgown, I positioned her against my breast, wincing as she latched. She ate like a greedy little thing, and I murmured the lullaby Mama used to sing when I was little.
‘Baby mine, don’t you cry…’
The words caught on the sharp ache in my chest as I watched her little chin bob, the thick yellow milk seeping from the edges of her mouth. My stomach clenched in the quake of after, more painful with each baby I’d had. The afterbirth hadn’t come yet.
I ran a finger over her chubby little cheek. ‘…Never to part, baby mine.’
Slipping a finger into her mouth, I released my nipple, smiling at the way she searched for more. I already dreaded the milk drying up, it made for a painful few days all full and hot and sore.
Drawing my knees up, I rested her against my thighs. With shaking hands, I pulled the ribbon from my hair. As pink and soft as my sweet girl. Satin-smooth between my fingers. A scrap of something sweet in this filthy, rotten place.
‘You and me,’ I whispered, winding it slowly between my palms. ‘Just you and me, my darling. Always.’
The baby fussed, her tiny mouth opening as she searched for milk I couldn’t give. Her face scrunched, and I leant forward to kiss her damp forehead, my tears dripping onto her cheeks.
‘I want to keep you, and this is the only way. Just like this,’ I murmured. ‘While you’re small and perfect. Before the world can get to you. Before you learn to hate me.’
My voice faltered.
‘Like Mama hates me. Like Pops did. Like Uncle Robert did…’
His name stuck in my throat.
‘Elijah. Nancy. They all hate me. All except you.’
I pressed my lips to her temple, breathing in the addictive newborn scent.
‘I can’t let you hate me,’ I whispered fiercely.
I looped the ribbon around her neck, with reverent softness. The satin slid against her fragile skin, and I hummed louder to hide the sound of her restless whimpers.
‘It’ll only be one moment of pain, darling. Just one. Then it’s all sweetness. All quiet. Forever.’
I rocked her, the ribbon poised in my hands, my tears blurring her face.
‘You’ll never leave me. You’ll never stop loving me.’
Her tiny fingers brushed my breast and a fresh gush of milk seeped from me.
