Chapter Seventy-Four
Francesca was due the next day, September the thirtieth. Her midwife warned her that a lot of first time Mums were late giving birth, that she might not go into labour for a week or so after the due date. She didn’t want to spend another day pregnant, much less a week. “Help me up, please, honey.” She held her hands out.
Paul got up from the armchair, held her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Where are you going? I’ve told you; I can get whatever you need.”
“You can’t go to the loo for me, can you?” With her hands supporting her back, Francesca walked out of the lounge, as Paul’s mobile rang. “It’s fine, Paul, take your call. I’ll make it to the toilet, don’t worry.”
Out in the hallway, a letter caught her eye, half-in and half-out of her letterbox. She’d just mi
