Baggage
Emily’s husband didn’t approve but he also didn’t understand. In her opinion, anyway. She had tucked it away now, in the hopes that he would think it gone or at least not irritated by its presence. She only ever looked inside when he was out drinking with his friends.
The suitcase had belonged to her as a child. It was white and boxy, with a plastic handle at the front of the lid and two metal catches on either side. They opened and closed with a pleasing click and thud. She remembered it accompanying her on family holidays, stowing and transporting her best clothes, new toothbrush and freshly whitened sandals. These days it had a musty smell and the lining was stained in places. She wondered again if it was the best of resting places for such precious cargo, for its purpose was very different now.
She opened the catches with care and trepidation. How would she feel today? Would she suffer less keenly? Will it be easier this time? But her stomach dropped as it always did as she peeled back the tissue paper and surveyed the contents. Well, it had only been eleven months.
On top was a handmade jacket that had belonged to her, as a baby. She had been amazed when her mother presented it to her. ‘Have you hung on to this all these years?’ she had laughed with wide, surprised eyes. Then a newly knitted shawl, several ‘all in ones’ and an assortment of brightly coloured soft toys bought by friends or family who had shared their joy. At the very bottom was a book of photos, taken by hospital staff, who knew how important it was to capture the moment, even though their hearts were broken. She gently turned the pages and gazed at their beautiful son, asleep for ever in her arms.
She heard Mick’s key in the lock and froze. Fumbling with the clothes and tissue paper she flipped the lid shut and snapped the catches into place. She was unfolding herself from the back of the wardrobe when he walked through the bedroom door.
‘You’re back early. I was just looking for my winter boots,’ she said breezily. ‘I was sure I’d stuffed them in the back there.’ She kept her gaze steady but knew her cheeks were flushed with guilt and exertion.
‘D’you want me to check? You shouldn’t be doing that anyway.’ He smiled and beckoned her towards him.
‘Here, let me say hello to the little one.’ He caressed her bulging stomach with soft, gentle strokes.
The suitcase was safe from prying eyes for another day and each of those days brought the prospect of future happiness closer. She would never forget her first or discard his belongings. The suitcase belonged to both their childhoods now, though his had been but minutes old.
THE END