Heaven Must Have Sent You
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The Loggerheads pub: crime scene
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Marilyn woke up to the all too familiar sound of the baby grizzling. It didn’t even properly cry, just moaned and whimpered. She looked down at her belly, its swell and the angry-looking stretchmarks. She was struggling to guess whether she was awake or asleep, what was real and which parts of her life were just a bad, bad dream.
Bobby turned over in his sleep, muttering something to himself. He was wearing earplugs as usual, blissfully unaware of the baby and all of its constant needing of things. That was Marilyn’s job, dealing with the baby. She had heard about women’s liberation on the news, but that was in London, like most things, and none of it bothered itself to get on the train and come here.
She su
