It was silly really, letting the weak winter daylight
disappear before walking her dogs; now it would be too late to get back without
the dark closing in. Pulling on a coat over her expectant belly, chastising
herself for becoming distracted and irritated at the prospect of a wet, muddy slide
in the twilight, Justine squeezes through the back-gate.
Her day has been frustratingly unproductive, undeveloped ideas melting away before forming fully and the baby seemed unusually restless shifting within her. And there was a nightmare which suddenly surfaced - freed by a radio debate discussing gender neutrality - a cause she'd adopted by opting-out of a sexing scan and felt was a fundamental part of this androgynous existence.
Devastatingly real, the dream revealed a faceless baby, slick with blood, umbilical cord fast about its neck. "It was only a dream", she comforts, shaking her head to stop foreboding thoughts sinking deeper.
Heading along the well trodden hedge-line, huddled against the annoyance of an unorganized existence writing her first novel, she passes under the tree's dense canopy. She wonders at her unease, having always been more concerned with creating a book than a life.
Her day has been frustratingly unproductive, undeveloped ideas melting away before forming fully and the baby seemed unusually restless shifting within her. And there was a nightmare which suddenly surfaced - freed by a radio debate discussing gender neutrality - a cause she'd adopted by opting-out of a sexing scan and felt was a fundamental part of this androgynous existence.
Devastatingly real, the dream revealed a faceless baby, slick with blood, umbilical cord fast about its neck. "It was only a dream", she comforts, shaking her head to stop foreboding thoughts sinking deeper.
Heading along the well trodden hedge-line, huddled against the annoyance of an unorganized existence writing her first novel, she passes under the tree's dense canopy. She wonders at her unease, having always been more concerned with creating a book than a life.
Ahead, the beagles stop abruptly, unhappy tails tucked
despondently beneath them, focusing their intense gaze on something sensed along
the path. A cold, malingering pocket of
air, drapes itself across Justine’s shoulders and shivering, she instinctively touches
her stomach.
Suddenly, a blackbird sounds a noisy warning. On edge and annoyed at the dogs’ unease, she
calls to them but hears a voice as faint as an echo whispering back. Pulse
pounding, she searches the direction of the canines’ neurosis, while fishing
for her mobile in her pocket, swiping for the reassurance of the torch.
Her phone is dead and swearing, she moves to hurry back,
startled at how vulnerable and cold she unexpectedly feels. But the
unintelligible voice speaks again – louder this time - as if tuning to a more receptive
channel and glancing down she sees that a pale-light is emanating from its
screen. Shakily holding it away from her like an unpleasant thought, Justine reluctantly
places the phone to her ear with a tentative “Hello?”.
She expects a girl’s voice but can’t be sure and as she
tries to make sense of the barren words; the voice is lost to babies’ screams
in the background. The glow dies, along with all composure, and sobbing, she tries
to run back along the slippery path.
Falling painfully onto her knees, struggling to stand up, a
new terror seizes her as something brushes against her face and turning, Justine
sees a pair of pale, dirty feet suspended in mid-air.
Hauling herself up, hysterical sobs racking through her
body, she stumbles away and looking back sees a corpse hanging, head lolling
unnaturally, blank eyes staring down at its distended stomach.
The police and paramedics arrived quickly but there’s
nothing to be found.
Her doctor insists on another scan later that week, which
confirms Justine is having twins – a boy, and a girl.
Copyright© Lucinda Merriman
