‘What do you want to call him?’ John gestures to the screen, mesmerised by their baby.
She runs her hand across her stomach, smiling. ‘Bonnie wanted to call him Bertie.’
‘Bertie it is.’
*
She pulls on his hand and points to the floor. ‘Just a minute, Daddy. I dropped a penny.’ She leans down, chubby fingers reaching out. He stops her. ‘Leave it, sweetheart. It will give someone good luck.’
‘Will it?’
‘Yes.’ John kneels down and squeezes her hand. ‘In an hour or two, someone will see that penny. And they’ll kneel down like you and I are doing now. They’ll pick it up and for the rest of the day they’ll have good luck. All because of you. Because you left it there for them to find.’
She smiles and looks from him to the coin. ‘Really?’
‘Really, really.’
She fumbles through her pink purse and gently drops another next to it. ‘Now they’ll have more luck.’
John nods and grins. He takes her hand and they walk down the street. When they come back, the money is gone and Bonnie smiles all the way home.
Maisie
Sunday 17 January, 2016
She looks at him as if she can’t decide whether he is really asleep or playing a game and at any moment will jump up from his bed and pull her into his arms. Her eyes snag on the tubes and needles embedded in his skin and all of a sudden fear slips through the cracks. The girl looks at Maisie, then studies the machines, small hand guiding a clump of hair to her mouth. She chews, and Maisie can see a glob of spit in the corner. A thousand different emotions jump across her features and for a moment Maisie is fascinated by their depth. Confusion. Hope. Surprise. Worry. Love.
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