All That Is Left Of Us. Catherine Miller

a normal set of circumstances, it would be a baby shower with gifts to help over the first six months, but there was nothing usual about Dawn’s departure. ‘I’ll settle for the chance to follow my dream.’

      ‘Well, that, plus you’re helping David and Rebekah achieve theirs and I know the usual gifts don’t apply, so I sorted an unusual one.’

      Jane went over to a hidden corner and left Dawn wondering how many people could hide in this room without being noticed. If anyone sprang out from behind a cushion she would box their ears, even if she was hindered by being full-term and at the point she would give birth any day.

      ‘It’s a bit big.’ Jane lugged over a wrapped present peeking out from a black sack. ‘I figure you won’t want to open it here. I’ll give you a hand with getting it home.’

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘You’ll have to wait and find out when you open it. I suggest you choose a moment when you’re missing us. Or more specifically me.’

      ‘I’m not going to get the chance to, am I?’ Jane was going to be walking Archie to and from school and they were planning to restart their regular weekly wine and pistachio night as soon as possible.

      ‘We’ll miss you and you’ll miss us. The school won’t be the same without you about. Who’s going to keep us all in check now?’

      ‘No one, judging by the mess in this staffroom.’

      The bell for the end of school rang and it was like the whole of Owerdale Primary School let out a sigh of relief.

      ‘Come on. Let’s go find Archie.’

      As always, ten-year-old Archie was waiting inside the classroom with his teacher until Dawn arrived. It was one thing she would miss about being here: the security of knowing her son was okay and being looked after. Not that that wouldn’t happen while she was away, but being on site helped if she was ever needed.

      His teacher, Ms Clayton, smiled broadly at their arrival, Archie busy at his desk, drawing away. ‘Last day then, Dawn?’

      ‘Yes. Jane will be doing the school run until the summer to give me a chance to rest and recover.’ Dawn was due to give birth a few weeks ahead of the school breaking up for the summer holidays.

      ‘It’s such a wonderful thing you’re doing.’ Ms Clayton beamed at her like a halo had appeared above her head for the saintly act she was carrying out.

      ‘I’m sure lots of other people would do it in my position.’ It was the standard answer she was dishing out to everyone who was looking at her with awe.

      ‘Well, we look forward to your return.’

      ‘Thank you. Come on, Archie.’ Dawn prompted her son before she was asked questions about what she was up to and when she would be back. It would ruin her saintly aura if anyone at the school other than Jane knew she might be doing this for her own benefit to try and start making money from her artistic skills as well as helping her brother and sister-in-law.

      Dawn’s pace was slower than Archie and Jane’s. It was part of the reason her friend had offered to start doing the school run with them, that and getting Archie accustomed to it being someone other than his mum taking him to and from school.

      At the lamp post they paused, waiting for Dawn to catch up. It was a system she’d been using for years to get her son to slow down and stay out of danger.

      ‘What is in that bag?’ Dawn asked.

      The present Jane was lugging to the flat was a tad cumbersome. Without opening it, at a guess it was maybe a pillow. She just hoped someone hadn’t brought a breastfeeding one by mistake.

      ‘I told you. Open it when you’re missing us. Whenever that might be.’

      ‘I don’t think that’ll be too long. I’m not going to know what to do with the spare time on my hands.’ There was plenty she needed to do, starting off with the art portfolio she was going to put together for the tattoo artist apprenticeship she was due to start in September. But even that might not be enough to keep her busy.

      ‘How did the antenatal class go with Rebekah?’

      ‘The fake bump did the trick.’ Dawn had returned the prop to its storage. ‘I just hope Rebekah and David start to get a bit more prepared.’ They were leaving everything as close to the due date as possible and it was making her twitchy.

      ‘They still haven’t brought anything then?’

      ‘Not yet. This weekend, apparently. I was going to tell you – the class ended with a bit of drama. Do you remember Caitlin Matthews from college?’

      Jane nodded.

      ‘She was there and she went into labour during the class. Her waters broke and everything.’

      ‘Woah. Was she all right? Did she have the baby at the class?’

      ‘I don’t know how it turned out. Her waters broke, but they weren’t clear. It all became a bit urgent after that and the midwife whisked her away to the labour ward. I’ve no idea what the outcome was.’

      ‘Oh, you don’t think…?’

      A worrying chill ran down Dawn’s back. She didn’t like to think about it. Especially with the precious cargo she was carrying. ‘She gave me her card with her phone number. I don’t know whether to contact her.’

      ‘Of course you should. If she’s a new mummy she’ll want the support and if something did go wrong, well, it’s not like you’ll have a baby to tout in her face. You’d be able to empathise with her on some level.’

      ‘I guess so. I’ll send her a text in a few days.’ Dawn wasn’t keen to rekindle any old college connections, especially ones that so closely connected her past with her present, but there was an instinct within wanting to know if the dramatic events in that class had turned out okay. ‘Archie, wait at the lamp post.’ Her son was too busy studying cracks in the pavement to notice he’d passed his stopping point.

      ‘I’m counting,’ he said, his brown head of curls not moving from the task. Normally this would be the point she’d run to catch up with him, but that was pretty much impossible now without inducing labour.

      ‘Look where you’re going, Archie,’ Dawn said.

      Jane caught on to Dawn’s concern and managed a hop skip and a jump to be by his side. ‘You missed the lamp post, Archie. You’ll be walking into the road if you keep going.’

      ‘I’m counting the cracks.’

      ‘But we need to slow down for Mummy today. She can’t keep up with us at the moment, can she?’

      Archie peered up from his task for the first time. ‘That’s not my fault.’ He said it with such spite it made Dawn sad, but he was right – it wasn’t his fault. He was having a hard time reasoning through the whole process, which was understandable. He turned his gaze back to the pavement and continued his march towards the road.

      Jane kept parallel with him, hoping, as Dawn was, that he’d have the good sense to stop as soon as he reached the kerb. When he didn’t, Jane used the very-likely-a-cushion gift to act as a stopping mechanism. Its presence thankfully stopped him in his tracks.

      No easy task when it came to dealing with a ten-year-old so blinkered in his actions he wasn’t able to recognise the dangers around him. It concerned Dawn that his awareness of the world hadn’t developed any more than when he was a toddler. She was lucky to have Jane who was so good with him and knew not to cross certain boundaries.

      ‘I want to count.’

      ‘We’ll carry on counting across the road,’ Jane said.

      Archie’s fists were balls of frustration. The changes in his routine were already proving to be problematic. Thank goodness Dawn would only be out of action for a few weeks