27
How are you?” Claire said. “Really?”
“Happy to see you,” Day said.
The door to his room was open, and Day sat on the wooden chair next to it. Claire reclined on the bed. Her feet hurt, and Kingsley had advised her to lie down. Fiona Kingsley paced nervously in the hallway, just out of sight, but not out of earshot. She took her responsibilities as governess and watchdog seriously. Day longed for even a few minutes completely alone with his wife, but he was content enough to take what he could get.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Claire said. “I couldn’t stop myself from getting on the train, but feel silly about it now. I’m keeping you from your work.”
“I’m still happy to see you.”
Claire smiled.
“Is he behaving himself?” Day said. He regarded Claire’s swollen belly with a mixture of suspicion and anticipation.
“He?”
“I assume that’s a son.”
“Is that so?”
“What else could it be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It seems to me there might be another possibility, but it escapes me.”
“You may want to consult with Dr Kingsley about that. You have some strange ideas.”
“You know, now I’m going to make sure this is a little girl.”
Day grinned at her and looked down at his folded hands, beyond them at the toes of his shiny shoes. He genuinely didn’t care whether the baby was a boy or a girl. The possibilities were equally terrifying.
Claire put a hand on her husband’s chest, reading his mood, but misunderstanding its cause. “You’ll find that lost little boy,” she said. “And his parents. I know you will.”
Day tried a smile. “I appreciate your faith, but I’m not so sure.”
“I am. I’m certain they’re somewhere warm and safe, waiting to be found.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Oh,” Claire said. “I made something for you.” She maneuvered through the pregnant woman version of jumping out of bed: swinging her feet around and placing them solidly on the floor, jacking herself upright, and pushing off the wall behind her. Day stood and took her elbow, helped her to her feet. He was amazed by how ready she was to bring another Day into the world. At any moment, their tiny family would be increased by half again.
Or, according to the sobering statistics that Kingsley had privately shared with him, there was a very good chance that Claire, or the baby, or both, would die in childbirth and Day would become a family of one. He shuddered and smiled at his wife and blinked hard, forcing the thought to disappear. Only it didn’t completely go away. It never did. It had lived with him for six months.
Claire crossed the room, heavy and graceless and, Day thought, breathtakingly beautiful. She fetched her bag from the floor of the wardrobe where he had placed it and rummaged through it.
“Aha!” she said. She unraveled from the top of the bag what appeared to be a long skein of the winter sky, grey and bristling. She took the ashen coil and looped it around his neck. He immediately began to itch and resisted the urge to scratch himself. “It’s a muffler,” she said. “I made it for you myself. Do you like it?”
He gripped the end of it and hauled it up to his face. It was really nothing more than a tube of some low- grade yarn, rough and charmless. Claire was still learning to be a homemaker after a lifetime of privilege, and Day was overwhelmed that she had tried so hard to make something for him, even something as wretched as this shapeless grey thing that was now making his neck itch so badly that it burned.
He wrapped his arms as tightly around her as he dared, as tightly as her belly would allow him, and spoke into her hair, smelling of lavender and apples, sweat and Blackhampton ashes. “I love it so much.”
The baby bird, invisible in its box on the vanity, woke up and chirped, and a deep voice floated in from the hallway: “I hear a bird.”
Day let go of Claire and took a step back. He looked at the door, but didn’t see the owner of the voice.
“Henry?” Day said.
Henry Mayhew peered into the room, a floating head, the rest of him out of sight behind the doorjamb. “The doctor sent me, only I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It’s all right, Henry. Come in.”
The bashful giant shuffled into the room. “The boy with the broken leg said the next train’s coming and the doctor says you have to get on it and go to Manchester, Mrs Claire.”
“Broken leg?” Claire said. “I don’t think Freddy’s leg is broken, Henry. I think he was born that way.”
Day stole an anxious look at Claire’s middle, as if he might be able to see inside and make sure their unborn baby was whole and healthy. “How much time do we have, Henry?”
“No time, Mr Day.”
“Then we’d best get you on your way, my dear,” Day said.
The bird peeped again, and Henry went to the vanity and stared down into the straw-filled box. “It’s little,” he said.
“It’s a baby,” Day said. “I found him in the woods last night and I haven’t decided what to do with him yet. He’s an agreeable chap, but he demands a lot of me.”
“You should show him to Dr Kingsley right away,” Henry said. “He could help.”
“You’re probably right. I haven’t had a chance.”
“Do you want me to do it?”
“If you’d like.”
Henry nodded, taking the new responsibility seriously. He lifted the box and whispered an answering chirp at the little bird.
“Actually, Henry,” Day said, “if it wouldn’t be too much to ask, could you watch him for me?”
“Oh, not me, sir. I’m not good at things.”
“I think that’s a marvelous idea,” Claire said.
“I’m quite busy here,” Day said. “You’d be doing me a tremendous favor.”
“I’ll try.” Henry looked frightened. “Is he hungry maybe?”
“Oh, Henry, he’s always hungry.”
“I’ll get him food.”
“He likes bread crumbs soaked in warm milk.”
Henry’s frightened expression was replaced by one of sheer panic, and Day laughed despite himself.
“I believe Mr Rose has a good supply of those things.”
“Oh, good,” Henry said. “Because I don’t have them.”
“Go ask him. We’ll be right down.”
Henry nodded and rushed out of the room. They listened to him clattering along the hall and down the stairs. Day picked up Claire’s bag, and his smile wavered as he motioned her toward the open door. She touched his cheek as she passed him. Fiona was still waiting in the hall and took Claire’s elbow to help her down the stairs. Day took another look at his room, now lifeless and empty.
He blew out the lantern and followed his wife and never returned to that room.
28
Kingsley gazed out across the fields at the hazy trees on the horizon. He thought he could hear something
