by Agatha Frost
“Oh.” Julia felt her cheeks blush. “Sorry. I’ve never done this before.”
“You don’t need to apologise. First-time mothers come through here all the time, and I’d be concerned if they weren’t all a little nervous.” Maryam paused typing and turned to Julia. “Would you feel more comfortable having your antenatal appointments here or at home?”
“I can have them at home?”
“Wherever you’re most comfortable.” The doctor smiled again. “I’ll put you down for home visits, and you can always change it later. Since this is your first pregnancy, you will have approximately ten antenatal appointments, but they’re nothing to worry about. They’re to make sure your pregnancy progresses as smoothly and healthily as possible, and to arm you with all the information you’ll need once baby arrives.”
“What about scans?”
“You’ll be offered your first scan between eight and fourteen weeks, and another between eighteen and twenty weeks,” the doctor said with a smile. “The frequency of your appointments will increase the further into pregnancy you get, but since you came in nice and early, you have more than enough time to prepare for what to expect. There are also great optional workshops and classes that I would highly recommend you attend, but you don’t have to worry about those until you’re around ten weeks from your due date.”
“My due date?”
Maryam consulted her notes. “Well, based on your own estimates, your due date should be sometime in December. A nice Christmas present for you and your family.”
Julia nodded, not quite ready to tackle the thought of actually giving birth. “December? My sister gave birth to twins on Christmas day.”
“You’ll have a clearer due date after your first scan, but for the sake of joint birthday and Christmas presents, I hope you don’t make it a third.” Maryam laughed as she opened a drawer under her desk. “For now, these should help you.”
Maryam pulled three leaflets from the drawers: What to Expect from Your Antenatal Care, Nutrition and Exercise During Pregnancy, and The Baby’s Development Throughout Pregnancy.
“They’re not the most exciting reads, but there’s plenty of useful information in there to get you started,” Maryam said as she continued to type on the computer. “But don’t worry if any of it goes over your head. For now, focus on the nutrition one, making sure you stay away from the things it tells you to. Your midwife will go through everything with you on your first visit, which should be in the coming weeks. You’ll get a letter confirming your antenatal care plan in the post. If you’re not already, I recommend you pop to the pharmacy next door to pick up some good quality pregnancy care vitamins, but aside from that, carry on as you are.”
Julia nodded that she would as she stared down at the leaflets in her hands, the gravity of reality suddenly weighing down on her.
“You’re going to be fine, Julia,” Maryam said, almost in a whisper as though she could read her mind. “I’ve had three of my own. I know what you’re feeling right now. I know it can be scary but try to enjoy it.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Leaflets in hand, Julia left the doctor’s surgery feeling somewhat lighter than she had upon entering. Perhaps the magnitude of what was to come hadn’t quite sunk in yet, but at least the fear of the unknown was fading somewhat. She walked the short distance to the pharmacy next door to pick up some more vitamins. She paused and checked her watch, wondering how long she had been away from the café already.
“Watch it!” a woman cried, bumping right into Julia and knocking the leaflets from her hand as she barged out of the pharmacy. “Look where you’re – Oh, it’s you! Sorry, Julia.”
Julia shot down to pick up the leaflets. She glanced up at Roxy Carter, one of her closest friends since her early school years. Roxy was normally a vibrant and bubbly woman with a razor-sharp, sarcastic wit, but she didn’t bear much resemblance to her usual self today. Her fiery red hair had been pulled off her face in a low ponytail, letting her sallow, drained skin take centre stage.
“Bad cold,” Roxy explained, her stuffy nose muffling her voice. “One of the kids gave it to me at school yesterday. It’s true what they say about the little ones being illness incubators.”
“You don’t look too good.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Roxy let out a bellowing sneeze before rubbing at her raw nose with the sleeve of her baggy jumper; she looked anything but ‘fine.’ Julia wondered if the leaflets contained any information about staying away from people with colds. She had survived the whole winter without so much as a sniffle, which meant she was likely due to catch the latest strain any day now. She took a cautionary step backwards, taking some comfort in how the wind was blowing up Mulberry Lane, hopefully blasting any airborne bacteria in the opposite direction.
“You need some rest.” Julia nodded further up to the street to Roxy’s flat above the candle shop. “Your bed is the best place for you right now.”
“Needed something to take the edge off.” Roxy held up her pharmacy bag. “Violet’s still at work, so I’m having to take care of myself. Woe is me, right?” She attempted to laugh, but she choked on phlegm instead. “Why aren’t you at the café?”
“I had a doctor’s appointment.”
“Is something wrong?” Roxy looked down at the leaflets in Julia’s hands. “What have you got there?”
Roxy took one of the leaflets from Julia. She squinted hazily, her lips tracing the words of the titles until her tired eyes widened nearly to the point of bursting from her face.
“You’re not!”
“I am.” Julia grinned. “I’ve just had my first appointment.”
“Oh, Julia, I’m…” Roxy’s voice gave way to a coughing fit, which she attempted to block by pulling up the neck of her jumper. “How long have you known?”
“A couple of days. It’s still really early days though, so don’t tell anyone yet.”
“Mate, I’m over the moon for you.” Roxy sneezed again, this time covering her face with her sleeve. “I want to hug you so bad right now, but I don’t want to risk you catching this.” She grimaced. “I think you’re right, I need to get back to bed.”
“I’ll walk you to your front door.”
They walked the few paces to the pink door of the flat Roxy shared with her Russian girlfriend, Violet. Roxy struggled to clutch the keys tight enough to get them into the lock. When they slipped from her fingers, Julia darted down, picked them up, and unlocked the door for her friend. She swung it open and helped Roxy step over the threshold.
“Thanks,” Roxy said, her energy levels looking almost depleted.
“I’d offer to come and tuck you in, but—”
“I wouldn’t let you even if you offered.” Roxy forced a smile as she leaned her whole body against the wall. “We’ll celebrate properly when I don’t feel like I’m about to pass out.”
“It’s a deal.”
Roxy went to close the door, but she paused, her brow furrowing.
“I don’t suppose you know anything about that girl who died?” Roxy asked fuzzily. “It’s all the other teachers were talking about in the staff room this morning before they sent me home. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were saying.”
“What girl?” Julia asked.
“I don’t know.” Roxy’s brow wrinkled even more as she staggered on the spot. “Maybe I misheard. I – I need to get to bed. I’ll call you when I’m feeling better.”
Roxy closed the door before Julia could ask further questions. She paused on the doorstep, trying to figure out if Roxy’s words were the delirious ramblings of an ill woman or the result of a genuine conversation concerning a recently deceased woman. The crime scene she had driven past on her way back from Fern Moore on Sunday flashed through her mind, followed by the image of Samantha, who she still hadn’t been able to track down.
After collecting her vitamins refill from the pharmacy and taking advantage of their free hand sanitiser station,
Julia walked to the top of Mulberry Lane.
She considered going back to the café to let the gossipers fill her in. If someone really had died, rumours would already be flying around the village, and it wouldn’t take long before information made its way to the café. Of course, Julia knew better than most how false and inaccurate gossip could catch like wildfire. She had heard more incorrect or exaggerated stories about herself than most.
Wanting to get the information straight from an official source, Julia took herself to Peridale’s tiny, unimpressive police station. Like fate had intended it, DI Christie was already outside, sucking on his electronic cigarette. A slight look of annoyance passed over his face when he spotted her like he was already too exhausted with the day to withstand questions.
“For someone who says she has a café to run,” Christie said as he tucked his electronic cigarette away, “you spend a lot of time away from it.”
“I had a doctor’s appointment.”
“Nothing serious, I hope?” Christie arched a brow as he looked her over. “There’s a nasty cold going around.”
“Nothing like that.”
“It’s not something to do with the burglary, is it?”
“No, no.” Julia scrambled for an explanation that wouldn’t give anything away. “Women’s troubles.”
“Oh.” Christie gave her a tight smile, looking like he wished he hadn’t asked. “I’ve been meaning to check in on you to make sure you’re doing okay after everything that happened. No post-traumatic stress, or anything like that?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Julia had been too distracted to linger over the events of that night. “But since you brought it up, do you have any updates?”
Christie sighed. “Nothing yet. Cases like this are difficult to crack, especially with it happening in the middle of a massive storm. We’ve patched together some CCTV videos of the van they used, but the rain was too heavy. Even if the licence plates were real, which they rarely are in cases like this, it’s impossible to make out the numbers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already sold on most of the things they stole.”
“That quick?”
“Professionals don’t like keeping hot merchandise for too long.” Christie sucked the air through his teeth before checking his watch. “The quicker they sell the stuff, the harder it becomes to trace anything back to them. Black market antiques can cycle through five sets of hands in the first month alone. Looking at the list of stolen items your father gave me, I see some exceptionally rare items a lot of collectors would happily look the other way to own. Was there anything else, Julia? I have an interview to get to.”
“There was one thing,” Julia said quickly. “My friend mentioned something about someone dying. A girl? I saw a crime scene on my way back from Fern Moore the other day.”
Christie thought for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah, yes. A dog walker found the body of a young woman on Sunday morning.”
“Who was she?”
Christie shrugged. “No clue. We’re overwhelmed, so the Riverswick team took the case. About time they got off their backsides and dealt with something other than squabbling neighbours and stolen bikes.”
“Do you know how she died?”
“Hit and run, I think.”
“Can you get a name?”
“Did you know her?”
Julia thought about giving the detective Samantha’s name, but she didn’t want to tempt fate. “Can you find out, or not?”
Christie pursed his lips. “I can. I’ll call when I find out, but I really do need to get to an interview.”
Julia wanted to push DI Christie to get a name that very moment, but the push and pull mechanics that had developed between them needed to be balanced. If she had something to give the DI, he would give something in return, but if she pushed too hard without offering something first, he could easily clam up. For now, the promise of a phone call would have to be enough.
Leaving DI Christie to his interview, Julia headed back to the café. She had expected to walk into the middle of a Tuesday lunchtime rush, but the sparsely scattered customers meant most tables were empty. If Jessie had noticed Julia’s promised half an hour away from the café had stretched past an hour, she didn’t comment.
“Barker came in looking for you twenty minutes ago,” Jessie said as she ran a cloth lazily across the already clean counter. “Seemed important. He told me to tell you to get to the cottage as soon as you showed up.”
“Will you be okay here?”
“Hardly rushed off my feet, am I?” Jessie let out a small yawn. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
Julia left the quiet café and set off home. As she sped up the winding lane to her cottage, her mind cycled through all of the possible ‘important’ things Barker could need her for. Perhaps his publishers had given him some good news – or maybe something even worse waited for her at home. While either was possible, she hoped and prayed Barker hadn’t found out about her being pregnant from another source, even though only four people in the village knew. She pulled up outside the cottage, vowing today would be the day she told him the truth, if he didn’t already know.
Julia dashed from her car to the cottage, expecting tension to hit her the moment she was inside. Instead, a sense of calm greeted her. Soft music floated from the kitchen radio, and a trail of rose petals scattered across the hallway floor led to the back door.
She put her handbag on the side table before following the red path out into the garden. The scent of freshly cut grass tickled her nostrils. She smiled when she spotted Barker lying atop a red blanket in the shade of the large trees at the bottom of the garden. Mowgli was curled up on Barker’s stomach, rising and falling softly with his peaceful breathing.
She crept across the garden, not wanting to startle either of them from their slumber. She knelt down on the blanket next to a wicker hamper. Mowgli lifted his head and gave her a blink of acknowledgement before rising and stretching. He repositioned himself on Barker’s chest and kneaded under Barker’s chin, causing him to stir.
Julia leaned in to awake him with a kiss, but Barker had other ideas. He shot up, his forehead crashing into Julia’s as Mowgli fled towards the safety of the cottage. They sprang back from each other with pained cries, clutching their heads.
“Julia!” Barker cried, squinting through the pain. “You scared me.”
“I didn’t want to startle you.”
“Well, you failed.” Barker chuckled as he sat up. He grabbed Julia’s face in his hands and planted a kiss on the spot where his forehead had met hers. “Sorry. I must have drifted off while I was waiting for you. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Consider me surprised.” Julia sat on the blanket across from Barker, the ringing in her head subsiding a little as she rubbed in Barker’s kiss. “What’s the occasion?”
“Do I need one to be romantic with my wife?” Barker brushed the sleep from his eyes. “I know I haven’t been the best husband since all the book drama. I’ve been distracted. I wanted to show my love to make it up to you.”
“Is that all?” Julia asked, a little relieved. “I thought something might have happened with the book.”
“Haven’t heard anything today,” Barker admitted with a strained smile. “I’ve decided I’m going to back away until they come to a concrete decision. The stress isn’t helping anyone.”
“Well, I never doubted your love, Barker,” Julia said before leaning in and kissing him. “This is really sweet. Thank you.”
“I did the gardening too,” Barker said, somewhat like a proud child.
“I noticed.”
“And then I went and bought some sandwiches and cakes from that new fancy café in Riverswick.” Barker pulled over the hamper and opened the lid. “I thought about getting stuff from your café, but I didn’t think it would be much of a surprise to eat your own food. I wanted to whisk you away from work and surprise you with a picnic out in the countryside, but you weren’t there, and then
I realised there was no point driving all that way out when we have a lovely garden here.”
“I was at an appointment,” Julia said, looking down at her hands while Barker unwrapped the sandwiches from the hamper. “Barker, there’s something I…”
Julia’s voice trailed off when she noticed a wasp buzzing behind Barker’s head. It danced between them, going straight for the hamper.
“Go away!” Barker cried, batting away the wasp before it could touch the bread. “I haven’t seen any all day, and then one turns up when we’re about to eat. Typical!”
The wasp circled the hamper for a moment before flying off. Barker exhaled and seemed to reclaim his calmness. He divided the sandwiches between two paper plates.
“I was stung when I was a little girl,” Julia replied. “Sue thought it would be funny to poke a wasp’s nest out in Haworth Forest and I–”
The wasp returned, this time with a friend. Barker cried out, darting and ducking away from the pair as they weaved between them. They flew upwards, out of reach, as though they were assessing the situation.
Julia took a bite of her sandwich, wondering if there would ever be a right time to tell Barker their big news. Her stomach twisted with discomfort. The longer she held it in, the harder it became to say. Every interruption felt like a sign from the universe to keep the secret a little longer.
“Barker, I need to…” Julia’s voice trailed off when one of the wasps landed on the sandwich Barker was lifting to his mouth. “Barker, don’t eat—”
But before she could deliver her warning, Barker took a bite of the sandwich, his teeth hitting millimetres away from the hostile bug. Time seemed to slow as Barker’s pupils crossed as he peered down his nose at the black and yellow wasp sharing his sandwich. He tossed the sandwich away, and the wasp with it, but the second wasp immediately swarmed in.
“Barker, you need to stay still,” Julia ordered, standing up and backing away as Barker continued to wave his arms around. “You’re making it angrier!”
As though to prove how irritated it was, the wasp doubled its backside underneath itself and flew at Barker’s hand.