2.23
Boxing Day and Yvette was clasping a mug of tea out on the balcony in the cool of the early morning. The solitude, the vacuum left by yesterday’s company and memories of other Christmases, and she’d woken wondering if she was doing the right thing bringing a child into the world, knowing she could never be like Josie’s mum. She knew that her last chance to have a termination was fast approaching. She reassured herself that she wasn’t having a baby to gain permanent residence, that no part of her, not even lurking unseen in her depths, held such a corrupt motive. She was bonded to her unborn child like a barnacle to a rock. Giving birth had become imperative, a seed she’d planted in her psyche like a farmer experimenting with a new crop. And she knew with all the conviction of fate th
