I grin, hiding my agitation at not getting to do something useful. The smile, though, is genuine. None of this is Lise’s fault. “I don’t think you can get most of the things on my list.”Including Johann or word of him.
Discomfort twinges in my lower back. I shift on the settee in an attempt to get more comfortable.
“You’re sure you will be all right while I’m gone?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll be sitting here reading.” It’s about the only thing I can do. I have readVoyage au bout de la nuitso many times, I am close to having it memorised.
Lise leaves, and I pick up my book from the coffee table.
The discomfort in my lower back grows, and I shift position again. It doesn’t make a difference. Lately, I’m uncomfortable most of time. Four more weeks. That’s all I have left until my baby will be in my arms and the discomfort will be gone. Unless…unless the baby is coming early.
I shut that thought down and try to focus on the novel once more. I am not prepared yet. I really want Johann to be here before the baby arrives.
An hour later, the flat door clicks open with Lise’s return, and the discomfort is no longer just in my lower back. As of fifteen minutes ago, it has shifted to include my belly. There’s no doubt now that I am in labour.
Bloody hell, I’m not ready for this.
While I was engaged to Charles, I’d imagined us one day having children. But not once had I imagined I would be in a war-torn country occupied by the enemy when the baby came into the world, and the location of my baby’s father would be unknown.
I push myself unsteadily to my swollen feet and waddle around the cramped space. One hand rests on my lower back, the other on the knot of muscles surrounding my belly. I focus on the cloudless sky outside the window and breathe through the discomfort.
“Are you okay?” Lise asks.
My attention remains on the sky, but I don’t miss the concern in her tone.
“I think I might be in labour.” My voice comes out casual and breezy—the opposite to how I feel.
“Oh. Do you want to sit?”
My gaze drops from the not-quite-so-calming blue of the sky to Lise. She’s wringing her hands, deep lines stretched across her brow.
“I’d rather keep moving.” I resume waddling.
“I’ll get Françoise. I won’t be long.” Lise doesn’t give me a chance to respond. She darts out the door to fetch the midwife.
Another contraction hits, more intense than the other ones. The pain I experienced when Dr. Hubert repaired my hand was worse than this, but knowing that doesn’t bring me much comfort. I groan.
If feels like a lifetime and a half before Lise walks into the flat with Françoise. She was probably only gone for a quarter of an hour. They come into the drawing room the same moment I release a long moan. Fluid trickles down my leg and pools on the hardwood floor.
“It looks like your baby is eager to come into the world.” The soft smile in Françoise’s tone is no doubt meant to reassure me, and I allow myself to relax and catch my breath.
“Let’s get you on the bed, Éve, and see how things are progressing.” She lists off the items for Lise to round up for my baby’s grand entrance into the world.
* * *
“She’s beautiful,”Lise says, peering at the small bundle in her arms, wrapped in the softest blanket I could find when I was pregnant. She sways on the spot, rocking my daughter. “She looks like her maman.”
I laugh, the sound weak from exhaustion, strong with love and joy. “She looks like every blue-eyed, bald baby. But I agree. She is beautiful.”
Neither of us points out the obvious. My daughter is small for a newborn. But she is also four weeks early. If it hadn’t been for Lise and Henri, as well as Dr. Hubert and Rosita—all who made sure I had enough food while I was pregnant—my daughter would have been smaller and less likely to survive.
“Do you have a name for her?” Lise asks.
“I was thinking of calling her Anna, after her Austrian aunt. Her name is…or was…Anja.”
Lise nods. She knows a bit about Johann’s sister and how she was deaf and trying to escape the Nazis. “Do you think your daughter is…?” Her gaze drops to Anna.
“Do I think she’s deaf too? I don’t know. Time will tell.” It was a worry that constantly visited me while I was pregnant.
