Jan. 6th, 2011

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The wedding night went in traditional fashion. In the solitude of their caravan, with society's permission for the first time.

Will laughed when she showed him the condoms. He flicked the funny looking latex thing across the caravan.

"We don't need those, silly, we're married!" he said.

***

At seven the next morning, he was packed and off to the army. They held each other for a long time, and she tried not to cry.

"You better come back for me, you hear?"

Will looks into her eyes.

"Whatever happens, I'll love you for ever. Take care of our family." he says. "They say the war will be over by Christmas, then I'll be back before you've had time to miss me."

"I love you too. Forever." Carlotta says, squeezing him tight.

All too soon, he's gone. She goes back into the caravan and curls up on the bed, with his pyjama top in her hand. She's got a lot to think about.

Her eyes fall on the condom, sitting on the windowsill where Will flicked it, and her stomach suddenly turns even more to lead.

Dash it! What a thing to let drop at the heat of the moment! Demeter did that magic so that she wouldn't get pregnant the first time, but they did it three times. Does that mean she's already pregnant? How does she know?

She looks down at her abdomen and gives it a gentle poke. It doesn't feel any different. She feels a little sick though. Is that because she's scared, or is that what morning sickness feels like?

She thought Will going away was frightening. Being potentially pregnant and Will being away is a whole new level of terror. The last thing she wants right now is a baby. More to the point, both her mother and her maternal grandmother died in childbirth the first time they had a baby, and she's grown rather fond of being alive...

There's a knock on the door of the caravan. She gets up, hides the condom, and goes to answer it. It's Mrs Frances, her new mother-in-law.

"Sorry to disturb you love, but we need to get down the town hall, otherwise all the evacuees left will be the difficult kids."

"Evacuees?" Carlotta asks.

"From the cities. The ones at risk of bombing. Every household is supposed to take at least one." She sees Carlotta's alarmed look. "Don't worry love, we'll do it as a team, eh?"

Carlotta nods, closes the caravan, locks it, and goes with Mrs Frances.

"Is Mr Frances going to be called up?" she asks.

"No, he's got a heart problem." Mrs Frances says. "He's going to help on the home front."

"One more pair of hands then." Carlotta says. "I'm sure the evacuees will be nice enough kids."

***

The town hall has been swamped. A lot of families have come to frantically pick the cleanest, cutest, most stable looking, or most useful looking children. More than that, all the only children have gone, leaving bunches of siblings desperate not to be seperated.

A small, frightened looking girl spots Carlotta, who's a fair bit younger than most of the women here, and starts hovering near her hopefully. Carlotta smiles at the little girl, and crouches to ask her name, when an angry looking older girl comes storming over.

"No way! We're not living with a gypsy!" she says. "Come away Amelia, you'll get fleas!"

"I don't have fleas!" Carlotta exclaims, laughing. She's heard every anti-gypsy line in the book from Angela over the years, and it's easier to take it in humour. "If it makes you feel better, I'm parked right outside a house."

Suddenly, the other adults are starting to disperse, and the older girl is starting to check out her options. She suddenly leaches onto Mrs Frances, much to Carlotta's amusement.

"Well that's all right." Mrs Frances says. "You can stay with me, Arabella, Amelia can stay with Carlotta, then you'll be close together."

Carlotta puts a hand to her abdomen as she takes Amelia home, willing there not to be another kid in it. The prospect of looking after Amelia, who's about six, is hard enough, let alone a baby...



Inside her, the next egg to be released sits in the ovary, oblivious to the millions of sperm that tried, and failed, to be the one. Oblivious to the chaos going on in the brain, it is released a few days later, and floats past the dead and dying sperm without ever meeting the right one.

If only she knew she wasn't pregnant, it would have saved a lot of worry.

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Carlotta Brown

July 2018

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