Shut up, you little shit, thought Dolly, looking daggers at the tiny thing, feeling she could hardly bear to have that near her, not when she’d had all this done to her.
‘Dad…’ she moaned, clutching at her stomach.
‘Bus’ll be here in a mo,’ he said brightly, smiling at the young woman with the kid, everything normal here, nothing to see.
Eventually the damned bus came, and they all piled on. Dolly didn’t know how she made it the whole length of the journey without shrieking out loud. Finally they were home, and Dad helped her up the stairs to bed and then left her there, closing the door behind him.
‘Dolly’s not well, but she’ll soon feel better,’ she heard him saying to Sarah out on the landing. ‘Don’t go in, Sar, she’s having a kip.
Dolly writhed on the bed in fearful agony all the rest of that day and all night. She couldn’t sleep through the pain, it was awful. When morning came and it got light she tried to get up, to get dressed. She could hear the others, her brothers and her sister, getting up, going downstairs to the kitchen, but she could hardly move, the pain was too great.
Somehow she got herself up on to the edge of the bed and hauled herself to her feet. It was then that she felt wetness and saw her nightie was soaked with blood. Another hot bolting spasm of agony shot through her and as she tried to stand up she felt something warm drop down between her legs.
Gasping, crying, she got the pot out from under the bed and crouched over it, and then it happened: the baby came away and fell straight into the pot with a sticky, stomach-churning slurp. Staring at it, Dolly nearly screamed but she didn’t, she couldn’t rouse the rest of the household, what would they think?
She’d been quite far along. In her innocence, she hadn’t known what the fuck was happening, but she could see it was a girl, fully formed and hanging by the cord, still joined to her. Horror gripped her then. It was a girl, a real child, and they’d sluiced it out of her like it was nothing.
‘Oh Jesus, oh angels,’ said Dolly, crying, desperate. She looked at the poor little kid’s face and nearly fell to the floor in shock. She’d committed a mortal sin, this was a human being and she’d killed it.
Another cramp sent the afterbirth sploshing down on to the floor. Dolly let out a scream then, she couldn’t stop herself.
Presently, as she stood there staring down at the abomination in the pot, there was a tap at the door. She cringed with panic. ‘Who is it?’ she shouted.
