more time with Dorothy. ‘Thank you. If you insist, then I would love to accept your invitation. I’ll go and fetch your daughter now, and then I’ll look forward to spending Christmas Day with you tomorrow.’
Dorothy sat on the edge of her pristine hospital bed. Her small bag was packed and she was dressed and ready to go. She had seen two of the nurses whispering in a corner and passing sidelong glances her way. She knew they were talking about her, which made her feel even more desperate to leave the hospital, but at the same time, home was the last place she wanted to be. She had been pregnant when she’d left her house a few days ago, but now she would be returning with an empty belly and no baby.
She gently rubbed her stomach, consumed by a feeling of barrenness. Her baby was gone, a part of Robbie had died, but Dorothy had cried her tears and was resolute that there would be no more. Apart from anything else, she knew her mother would have no time for weeping and moping. Alice had always been of the ‘stiff upper lip and get on with it’ mindset.
Dorothy sighed deeply and prepared to make her way home. Her heart thumped in her chest at the thought of facing the world. She was sure word of her losing the baby had spread by now, and knew not to expect any sympathy.
‘Dottie, hello. Your mum sent me to pick you up.’
Dorothy looked up, surprised to see Adrian. What a godsend, she thought. He has a car. ‘Adrian, you have no idea what a relief it is to see you.’
‘I’m so sorry about the … the, err … you know.’
Dorothy could see the genuine sympathy in Adrian’s eyes and almost burst out crying again, but then reminded herself that she had to be resolute. There would be no more tears and she managed to hold them in. ‘Thanks Adrian, but I suppose everyone is pleased and thinking this is the best outcome. I won’t be an unmarried mother now. It’ll be one less thing for my mum to worry about.’ Dorothy knew her tone sounded bitter and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. She looked at Adrian, who seemed at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, Adrian. I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Don’t apologise to me, there’s no need for that. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I for one am most definitely not pleased. Now come on, let’s get you home. Your mother is waiting and I know she’ll be over the moon to see you.’
Dorothy sat in silence during the journey, peering out of the side window as the car trundled through the streets of Battersea. Everything looked so grey and glum to her, echoing her mood. Even the few Christmas decorations she spotted failed to lift her spirits and she sighed heavily.
‘I can see how upset you are, and it’s understandable,’ Adrian said.
His sympathy brought tears to her eyes, but once again she fought them. ‘I know I’ve got to somehow put this behind me and get on with it. My mum won’t stand for any nonsense and, not only that, I don’t want to ruin her day tomorrow. We haven’t got much, but all the same she makes a real effort every year in the hope of rousing my dad. He used to love Christmas.’
‘Your mother has invited me for lunch tomorrow,’ Adrian said, ‘so I’ll help too. I’ll even dress up in my old Santa outfit if you like?’
Dorothy smiled; it was the first time she had done so since she’d miscarried. ‘You’ve got a Santa outfit?’
‘Yes, and I’ll have you know I make a very good Father Christmas.’
Dorothy smiled again as Adrian patted his stout belly.
‘Ho, ho, ho,’ he boomed. ‘See, you’d never guess I’m not the real thing.’
As the sun broke through the dark clouds, Dorothy felt the glimmer of light on her skin. Though she was bereft at losing Robbie’s baby, she thought maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The pub was full of festive cheer as customers celebrated Christmas Eve. Robbie sat at a table in the corner, supping his pint. He’d been surprised and pleased to find the wallet he’d stolen contained twenty-five pounds, a sizable amount of cash. Jumping that bloke and nicking his car had been easy, but it didn’t pay the sort of money he wanted, though he’d enjoyed living the high life for a while. It had paid for fuel to get him to Surrey and afforded him a few nights’ stay in some nice hotels. However, it wasn’t going to last for much longer and Robbie still hadn’t pulled off the big job he was aiming for.
He squeezed his way through the throng of people to the bar and ordered another pint. When the landlord took his money, Robbie noticed the cash register was bulging with notes. This was probably one of the busiest nights of the year and there would be plenty more cash going into the till yet. And there would be no banks open tomorrow. A plan began to form in Robbie’s mind.
‘And get one for yourself,’ Robbie said to the landlord as he was given his change. He didn’t like to give away his money to strangers, but, he thought, it would be back in his own pocket later.
‘Thanks very much. Merry Christmas,’ the landlord answered.
Robbie stood and slyly watched as money went over the bar. The landlord was rushed off his feet, but between serving customers he did manage to have the odd word or two with Robbie.
‘You’re not from around here?’
‘No,’ Robbie answered, ‘I’m from London.’
‘Whereabouts? I’ve got family in the Smoke,’ the landlord asked.
‘Knightsbridge way,’ Robbie fibbed.
‘It’s nice around there. My family come from around the East India docks. Tough old game that, being a docker. I got out of it a few years back and set up here. Tom’s my name – you stopping for another?’
‘Nice to meet you, Tom. I’m Graham,’ he lied, ‘and yes, I’ll have another pint. Get yourself another drink too,’ he said, thinking that this was all going according to his hastily put-together plan. Tom seemed like an affable bloke. He was overweight, a bit taller and older than him, but Robbie felt he already had the man on side.
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ Tom said and poured himself a shot of whisky which he drank quickly before having to serve another customer.
By about ten o’clock, the pub was beginning to empty and Tom looked worn out. Robbie would have to be his most charming self if he was going to pull this one off.
‘Err, Tom. Why don’t you grab a drink and come join me for a while? You look like you could do with a bit of a breather.’
‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Tom replied. ‘My daughter was supposed to come over and give me a hand tonight, but she got stuck indoors with her little ’un. Little bleeder’s come down with chicken pox. Never mind, I got through it, but I’m worn out.’
‘It’s Christmas Day tomorrow so I expect you’ll have the day off to spend with your family?’ Robbie pried.
‘Yeah, but the missus passed away a couple of years ago. Still, I’m off to my daughter’s for lunch tomorrow. A few spots won’t keep me away from the grandson, not on Christmas Day. What about you, are you driving back to
