the horror of what had happened but it was inevitable that being on a staircase right now would set off those flashbacks she’d thought she’d conquered long ago.
The fear of believing that she was about to be hurt. Again. That the baby she was carrying could be in danger from its own father. Stepping back to try and find safety, only to feel that there was nothing beneath her foot, that she was falling and knowing in that same moment that the accusation that would come—that this was all her own fault—would certainly be true this time. Brent’s voice when the paramedics had arrived.
‘She just missed the step somehow... I tried to catch her but I couldn’t... She fell all the way to the bottom of the stairs... Is she bleeding? Is she going to be okay? What about the baby?’
Laura’s breath hitched as she pushed herself up the last flight of stairs. “The baby”—her precious Harry—had survived the emergency Caesarean and those weeks in the paediatric intensive care unit. He would never know about the night, just before he’d been allowed to come home, when Laura had stood up to his father during one of his alcohol-fuelled rages and threatened to call the police, and told him that she would do whatever it took to make sure her baby was safe from him. He had vanished from her life by the time she took her baby home and that was the start of a whole new struggle where Laura had to try and ensure that they both not only survived but thrived.
The early years had been incredibly tough but when she’d chosen to live with flatmates so that she and Harry weren’t cooped up in a tiny flat and so isolated, life had settled into something that was as good as it could get, as far as Laura was concerned. Harry had been so happy at home, especially after he’d started at the nearby school. Laura had found great friends in her flatmates and then their partners, and had two jobs that she loved equally—being a senior nurse in the Royal’s Accident and Emergency department and being Harry’s mum.
Laura pushed open the firestop door in the stairwell and walked towards the brightly decorated entrance to the paediatric ward. Totally out of the blue, she had a new challenge that was every bit as terrifying as when she’d sat beside that incubator in Intensive Care, praying that her baby would make it. And yeah... Tom probably thought she was flaky, talking about playing the best game of life that you could with the cards you had been dealt and how you had no choice but to fight for the people you loved, but...those words of hers had been true, hadn’t they?
At least Laura knew how to fight and that it was possible to win in the end.
She’d never been more determined that she was going to win a battle, either. Previous experience was helpful in reassuring her that she did have the strength. That, even if it felt like an impossible ask and you were on the brink of losing absolutely everything, you just had to keep going somehow—one step at a time—and eventually you’d find yourself on the other side. And it was going to be the winning side. It had to be.
For Harry.
And for herself.
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