Chapter 1: Laying an egg
Severus settled himself at his accustomed perch at the end of the bar, and Tim the barman nodded. Severus gave a tight smile in return. Tim handed change over to another patron, an older man, then turned to pick up a glass, filling it with a double measure of whiskey. No ice. He knew the slightly greasy young man would nurse it for an hour or more, and it didn't make him much profit, but he was happy to see the young Snape capable of being in society without drinking himself to oblivion, unlike his father. He'd seen his profits go down when Tobias Snape finally landed up in hospital with cirrhosis of the liver at the ripe old age of forty-three, but Tim couldn't say he was particularly sorry to read the obituary for the old man. He'd been violent, full of temper, and though it had never been proved, or even brought to court, it was widely believed by the locals that he'd killed his wife, mousy little Eileen. Tim had lost count of the number of times he'd herded Tobias out so he could lock the door at the end of the night, and he knew a bottle awaited the man at home too. He'd always felt sorry for Eileen, with her black eyes, and the small boy who learnt early to be silent. Tobias had never showed off his child like the other men at the pub. He hadn't drunk to celebrate when Eileen went into hospital to birth Severus; he'd groused about mouths to feed.
"Alright, Sev?" Tim asked, sliding the drink across the bar to him. "How's medical school going?"
"Lots of work," Severus commented shortly.
"Aye, I've heard it's a tough business," Tim agreed. Severus had exact change on the bar already, and Tim took it and went on to his next customer, leaving the brooding teenager to stare moodily at the opposite wall.
He'd been there almost twenty minutes when Tim noticed a little figure climbing up onto the stool next to him. Annie Brandon. He suppressed a smile: her parents would be furious to see her in this 'den of immorality' as Paul Brandon was fond of calling it. The fact that Tim saw them every week at Mass didn't seem to convince them that perhaps alcohol was not the very work of the devil. He probably wouldn't approve of his daughter mixing with Severus Snape either- he had his heart set on a marriage between her and the vicar's second son, never mind that Severus (funny name, that, Tim had never quite figured out why you'd give the moniker to a baby...) was going to be a doctor. Not that Annie was any match for him intellectually, of course. He let her be for a few moments. He'd give the younglings time to talk before offering her a lemonade. She'd been in looking for Severus three nights running, but the dour young man didn't come in on any schedule.
Tim knew. Tim knew all his locals.
"Hello, Sev," Annie said quietly.
Severus grunted in reply. He'd known Annie since they were children in primary school. Not many people had enjoyed being around him even then- he had never been quite clean until he grew up enough to be in charge of his own hygiene. Not Annie, though… Annie had been one of those universally sweet children, who wanted to make friends with everyone. He hadn't encouraged her, but that hadn't deterred her. He hadn't seen her for years, until his mother's funeral two years ago, then, a few months past, here. He cringed with the memory. He'd missed Lily, been furious at news of her engagement to Potter…
"I've tried visiting you, but you never seem to be in," she said.
"I work a lot," he replied evenly, still not looking at her. That, and he didn't want anyone to see the state of Spinner's End, so he never answered the door. It was in too poor a state to sell, too far gone for the few simple spell repairs he knew, and he had no money for other digs, so he shivered each winter's night beneath a mountain of blankets, and paid his floo connection fee so he could get to St. Mungo's. He did work a lot, to be fair, between his classes and his ward duties and spending long evenings in the library. The library had light, and warmth, and no-one bothered him there.. What spare time he had was dedicated to serving, serving the greater good, though lately he found himself inwardly tensing as the anti-muggle sentiment grew. It seemed that the Death Eaters were turning from their original path of maintaining the old ways, the sanctity of magic, and instead veering into fear and hatred of anyone not pureblooded. Idiots. It wasn't the halfbloods and muggleborns diluting magic, else how did you explain the likes of Lily: muggleborn and brilliant? How long, he wondered, until the axe would fall on the likes of him, branded follower or no?
"I erm, I need to tell you something," she pressed on, pulling him out of his reverie.
Severus resisted the urge to drop his head to the smooth wood of the bar top. He'd only come in for a drink and some feeling of connection to the world around him, even the muggle one. It wasn't like he was made very welcome in most Wizarding establishments. "What?" he snapped.
He hadn't looked at her once, but he still felt her shrink away from him. He mentally berated himself- it wasn't her fault that he was exhausted, and a headache was blooming behind his eyes. She probably wanted to share some local news, some snippet about a former classmate. Tedium, but certainly nothing to be cruel about. His tutors persisted in telling him he needed to be more personable. "What is it, Annie?" he repeated more gently.
"Maybe we could go somewhere else?" she asked hesitantly.
So it wasn't some tidbit of gossip, then? Severus finally turned to look at her. She was chewing on her lower lip, and she looked like she was about to cry. He knocked back the rest of his drink, mourning the quiet time mulling over it, and slipped from the high stool. "Come," he sighed, ushering her ahead of him out of the pub into the late evening light.
The little play park across the road was empty; the young occupants gone home for their tea and a bath and bed. He waved a slender hand across to the deserted swings, the slide reflecting the low sun. She nodded stiffly.
He glanced at her as they wandered across the quiet road. Her cheeks seemed fuller, her face a little rounder. She was the opposite of him: all curves and smiles and dancing blue eyes, not sharp angles and brooding darkness. Had she put on a little weight, he wondered? He opened the gate for her, the hinges squeaking. She made a beeline for the swings. They squeaked too.
He leaned against the upright of the swings, the metal post digging into his back. "What's wrong?" he asked.
She only let go of her lip from between her teeth long enough to ask the question. "How do you feel about marriage?"
He frowned deeply, his heavy brows meeting. "What's this about, Annie?" he snapped. Had she heard about Lily, and her engagement? Was she going to torment him about it? That didn't seem like Annie, though. Was she worried that she was not yet engaged? Severus was no great confidant to her, though, he'd not seen her since he bundled her out of his door, her buttons not quite done up right. He should never have taken advantage of her like that…
His brain had whirred through all of these possibilities before she'd worked up the courage to answer. "I… I'm going to have a baby," she whispered, so quietly that he wondered if he'd misheard.
"Pardon?"
"I'm going to have a baby," she repeated, only a squeak louder.
He'd declared a specialisation in midwifery only two months earlier, the only male to have taken the specialisation in almost a decade. Was that why she was telling him this? But she didn't know, how could she know? Was it simply because she believed him to be in training to become a doctor, since she'd never have heard of a mediwizard?
"That's nice for you," he replied evenly. "That is… well… if you want it…" he trailed off before he could dig himself a deeper hole. He had thought that she looked a little rounder. "When are you due?" he queried, deciding it was an innocuous enough question.
"Early March, I think," she said softly. "It's nine months, isn't it?" Then: "Are you… are you pleased?"
He frowned, confused. "If it is what you want, then I am pleased for you," he said carefully.
She was looking at him expectantly. What did she want him to say? He raised an eyebrow. "Well, are you going to ask me?" she prompted.
"Ask you?" he repeated in bewilderment. Ask her what?
"To marry you," she stated.
Severus' head whacked against the swing frame as he straightened rapidly. "What?" he exploded, rubbing at his head
Annie looked down at her hands, clenched in her lap. Her lip was firmly wedged between her teeth again, the red flesh was white with pressure. "It's what people do, isn't it, when this happens?" she murmured.
Thoughts tumbled over themselves in Severus' mind. Was she saying what he thought she was? Was she saying the child was his? Surely not… surely it couldn't be… it had been once! Once! He'd been drunk! He'd used a muggle sheath!
A little voice in the back of his head, his rational self, coldly informed him that once was all it took, at the right time in a woman's cycle. And muggle birth control was fallible. He should have taken a potion, but he wasn't expecting to… He shook his head, trying to clear it, and chase out the echoing ring from hitting his head."Mine?" he croaked. She nodded. "Are you sure?" he murmured. Sure that she was pregnant, sure that it was his? Was she joking? She didn't look like she was joking...
She sniffled, and nodded. He swore, and a tear dripped down her cheek and splashed onto her hand. Suddenly, she lurched upright, the violence of motion setting the seat of the swing back violently, the chains protesting.
Severus' longer legs let him catch her before she'd reached the little gate, catching her around the waist. "Annie!" he said firmly, his head bent to bring his lips near her ear. "Don't run away."
"You don't want me either!" she sobbed. He yanked her around to face him.
"We need to sort this out." Then, thinking: "What do you mean, either? What's happened, Annie? Who doesn't want you?"
"Daddy threw me out," she sobbed.
"What? When?"
"Three days ago, when they found out." Her voice broke and cracked as she tried to master her tears. "Mummy made me take a test… she stood and watched me while I did it, she noticed that I hadn't had my monthlies... I've been trying to find you since then."
"Where are you staying, Annie?" Severus asked urgently. He could sort out the mess later, but she couldn't be out on the streets, not innocent little Annie Brandon.
"With Isabel," she offered with a sniff. "On her sofa."
"Isabel Warrick?" he confirmed. Isabel Warrick had been with them at school, all legs and elbows and pin-straight brown hair in pigtails. She'd just got braces the last time Severus had seen her, when they were eleven years old.
Annie nodded. "She has a flat," she sniffled. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Sev!"
Unable to help himself, he pulled her into a brief embrace. Then, he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back enough that he could look down into his face. "Is it truly mine, Annie?"
She nodded. "You've slept with no one since?" He knew she'd been a virgin that night, but, hazed by alcohol, he hadn't thought of it as a possibility until he'd shoved in and blood coated his cock. He felt little sick just remembering it. There was a reason he hadn't sought her out. He was embarrassed. He should have thought, should have been gentle- No! He should never have done it in the first place!
"No!" She cried. "I'm not a… a… scarlet woman!"
He sighed at her innocence. By Merlin, he'd done poorly by this girl. "Of course not," he soothed. He wished he could disbelieve her, but Annie, lie? Surely not… Hadn't that kind of thing been bred out of her in the long hours each week she spent starting at the altar in that damned church? He tugged her over to the bench set off to the side, intended as a place for parents to watch over their playing children. "There are ways to remove the problem" he suggested carefully. "There are things you could take, and then you wouldn't be pregnant anymore…"
She gasped. "That's a sin!" she informed him reproachfully.
He dropped his head into his hands. "It would be easier," he suggested.
"No!" She shook her head violently. "No, definitely not. It's a baby, Sev… our baby…"
She was looking at him with such longing in her eyes. He knew what she wanted; she wanted him to get down on one knee. "Annie, I… I have to think. I'll come and visit you tomorrow, okay? Where does Isabel live?"
She looked like she might cry again, but named a street five minutes walk away. "I'll walk you home, then," he suggested, regretting his choice of words when she bit her lip hard again, her eyes welling. Of course it wasn't home. She nodded, though, and let his usher her out of the park.
"What have you been doing?" he asked gently as they walked. "Are you working, or at university, or…?"
"I work part time at the library," she said softly. "Mummy got me the job, but Daddy thinks that I probably shouldn't be working with the kind of people who use the library. He says I need to get married, but no one will want me now." She turned big, reddened eyes up to Severus.
A knot formed in his chest to complement the stone in his stomach. "I don't intend to ever marry," he said as lightly as he could manage. "I can't see that it's very important."
The niggling voice in his head pointed out that he'd marry Lily, but that wasn't relevant to the situation at hand, so he pressed it to the back of his mind resolutely. No one would actually want to marry him, Annie was just desperate. She'd regret it if she did. He would make a terrible husband.
That was the thought that chased itself around his head as he lay awake all night: he could not imagine being married, certainly not married to anyone but Lily… she was in every homely fantasy he'd ever had. The idea of living with Annie, sharing a bed with Annie, raising a child with Annie… no! The visions were hard to force, and filled him with revulsion. Every scenario he saw left him in the same state as his father, in a drunken stupor, or reaching out to strike Annie's round, smiling face… he tried to imagine her big with child, he tried to imagine a child, perhaps a little girl with Annie's blue eyes and his dark hair, but every time, he came up blank. He hoped that any child would not look like him; greasy, lanky Severus Snape.
He rolled over huffily, pulling the blankets with him. Child? What was he thinking? There could be no child! There were potions… it would be unpleasant, but then she could go back to her parents, say it had been a mistake, he could go back to his life… yes, that was the best option, Severus decided.
But what if she refused? She clearly felt quite strongly about the issue. Severus could understand that: he had, after all, decided to specialise in midwifery to address concerns over falling magical fertility. It had always been low, but now the halls of Hogwarts were near empty. It was still in living memory, just, when the meals had taken place in two sittings. Now the Great Hall was never full. Almost no one homeschooled children of Hogwarts age anymore, though the practice had once been common amongst the better-off families. When the son of Abraxas Malfoy had attended school with the riffraff rather than have personal tutors, it was a clear signal to the wizarding world: this was the new order. He supposed he could try to sneak the potions into her, adulterating her food...
He could just leave. If he picked up some more shifts, glamoured the house to sell it, perhaps… and maybe Lucius would allow him to stay at Malfoy manor for a time. He could disappear from here: she'd never find him. He could pretend that it had never happened. What was there for him in Cokeworth anyway? Something about that plan felt wrong to him though. He cursed his sense of duty. Could he live with the guilt?
Another thought struck him: what would happen when the child reached Hogwarts age? They would be considered muggle-born, not half-blooded, with no father to claim them. He looked a lot like his own father, what if the line carried true? A little carbon copy, appearing at Hogwarts? In eleven years time, he could have a successful career: it could be ruined. And as anti-muggle feeling in the Dark Lord's camp was rising, an indiscretion with a muggle woman would ruin his credibility. If it was so now, how would it be in eleven years time? He shuddered to think it, but the Lord already claimed to some muggle killings, claiming they had misused old powers, powers that they had no right to claim. Would he kill an apparently muggle-born child? Severus' child? From his bed, in the tiny bedroom where he'd grown up, cried tears of anger, of loneliness, of pain, bled from parentally-inflicted wounds, he watched the dawn light turn the sky from black to grey to red.
He lay there until half past six. Then, feeling more inferius than human, he rose, washed, dressed. Seven. It was Saturday morning; he had no classes, and, somewhat unusually, no duties at the hospital. Was it too early? Maybe. Would she answer? Maybe. She might refuse to see him… she'd refused before
He could only try. She was the closest thing he could claim to a friend… he certainly couldn't go to his mentor in society, Lucius. Not with this problem. If it had been a witch, perhaps… why, why hadn't he taken a damned potion?
He reached for the pot of floo powder. It was running low. He'd need to buy another scoop soon enough. He sighed. It was notoriously hard to brew: time consuming and labour intensive and easy to get wrong. There was a reason everyone bought the stuff. He tossed a pinch into the fire and called out Lily's floo address.
It took her a few minutes before she appeared, rumpled, wrapped tightly in a fluffy blue dressing gown. "Severus, I've told you…" she began, in the tone of the long-suffering.
"Please, Lily. I need your help," he begged.
She knelt before the flames, peering at his head, wreathed in greenish flickering. "You look terrible, Sev," she murmured. "What is it?"
There was Lily's kind heart. He really hoped she'd help him. "I did something stupid," he muttered.
"Is anyone dead?" she asked.
"No."
"Are you going to kill anyone?"
"No, it's nothing like that, Lily… please."
"I'm coming through," she said.
"No! No… can I come to yours instead?"
She frowned. "You said no one was dead," she accused with narrowed eyes. "Is there something there that you don't want me to see, Sev?"
He sighed. "Nothing. It's just not very tidy."
"Well, James is still asleep in my bed. I doubt you want to see that."
Severus paled further, if that was possible. "Okay. Just, please, don't judge me. I'm at Spinner's End. Password's Eileen." He pulled his head from the flames.
It took Lily only a few moments to emerge from the floo, brushing off a streak of soot from her cheek. She looked around. "Merlin, Sev, this place is a dump!"
Severus shuffled his feet, his eyes fixed on the hole in his sock. He needed to fix that… "Yeah, well," he agreed. "There was a reason I didn't want you here."
She wandered around the kitchen. He'd used all the cleaning spells he knew, but the dirt was ingrained from years of neglect. The peeling, bubbled wallpaper was yellowed from tobacco until it was almost the colour of tobacco itself, and an air of misery hung over the entire place. "Why not get it fixed up?" she suggested. "There are people who specialise in domestic spells, you know- they could get the wallpaper stripped and something else hung, do some real scouring…"
Severus mumbled.
"What?" She asked.
"Can't afford it," he repeated, barely louder, still looking at his toes.
"Didn't you parents leave you anything?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Dad had debts," he said. "Drank all his money, anyway. The house isn't worth much, and it was pretty much all they had. I only just managed to keep it, after Dad's debts were settled."
Lily sighed. "I'm sorry, Sev. I assumed your rich Slytherin friends would help." He shrugged again. She pulled a chair from beneath the grimy table, inspected it with a wrinkle of her nose, and sat, evidently deciding that the greying colour wasn't going to leave marks. "So, what is it?"
He looked everywhere but at her. She didn't seem to belong here with her red hair and green eyes, not all black and white like him. "Do you remember Annie Brandon?" he asked to begin.
"Yeah. Plump girl. Not quite all there in the head. Some kind of religious zealot. Followed you around like a lost puppy in year five. Reckon she had a crush on you. That Annie Brandon?"
"Erm, yeah," he said. "See, the thing is… I got really drunk. And she was there, you know, and I was horny, and…"
Lily wrinkled her nose. "Eurgh, Severus! You slept with her? Is that even morally right? Does she actually, you know, understand? Quite apart from the fact that she got pulled out of any lessons so much as mentioning sex, surely she has some kind of mental deficiency?"
"That's not fair!" he snapped, finally looking at her, eyes blazing. "She knew what it was about, she just hadn't done it before! And I think you're an idiot for sleeping with bloody Potter, but I don't go around saying it!"
"You just did, actually!" she blazed. "And if you only asked me here to tell me about your dubious conquests, I'm leaving!" She shoved the chair back, marching towards the fireplace again.
"She's pregnant!" Severus cried out plaintively. "Lily, she's pregnant, and I don't know what to do!"
Lily froze. "What?"
"It was once, Lily! I used protection, I did, but it just… ugh! It's all gone wrong!"
She turned slowly. "Her father is going to kill you," she said softly.
Severus nodded. "They threw her out as soon as they found out."
"What are you going to do?"
He looked at her plaintively. "I don't know. Please, Lily, you were always the one who could tell me how to be. You always helped me out. Help me again?"
"I shouldn't," she sighed. "You got yourself into this mess, Severus Snape, and you should get yourself out of it. But that's not fair on Annie. But don't think this means I've forgiven you for what you've done!"
"Please, Lily, it was a mistake. I never meant to say those things… it was unforgivable."
"Yes, it was," she snapped. "Which is why I'm not forgiving you. You really do seem to be making a lot of mistakes recently. I bet you'll say you never meant to sleep with Annie either."
"I didn't," he sighed. "I offered her a potion to get rid of the child, but she wouldn't have it. She says it's a sin."
"Well, that's her choice," Lily remarked primly. "You have to respect that. You donated the sperm, now it's her lookout what to do with it, you know."
"I know," he sighed.
She looked around. "You're going to have to get something done with this place if you want to move her and a baby in here," she said.
Severus looked stricken. "Move her in? Lily, I can't!"
"Then you'll have to sell this and get somewhere else. That's probably best, you know. This house is miserable. But you'll have to marry her, Sev. It's the only way her parents will ever accept it."
"Lily, I can't," Severus ground out, fear strangling his voice. "I can't marry her! I don't love her, I don't want her! I'd be like my dad! I'd drink it away, I'd probably hit her, and what awful things would I do to the child? I'm not cut out for that, Lily- husband, father, all that crap."
Lily huffed in frustration. "You make it sound like some kind of terrible thing, being married."
"Imagine if someone told you you have to marry, oh, I don't know, Frank Longbottom."
"Frank's very nice."
"But would you marry him?" Severus pressed.
Lily wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather not," she admitted. "Okay, I see your point. But it's your responsibility, Severus. You made the mistake- no matter what you say, I don't think she could really know what she was getting into. She was so sheltered! So it's up to you. If you won't marry her, you still have to look after her. You've got to find her a place to live, you've got to give her money so she can raise the kid. And you've got to be around, because when that kid starts doing accidental magic, someone's got to explain what's going on. That's your duty."
Severus sighed. Lily had come to the same conclusion as him. There was no better moral compass than Lily Evans. "You're right," he agreed. "I'll have to make it work. Somehow." He glanced at the clock with the cracked glass on the wall. Half past seven. He should go and see Annie soon, try and get something sorted, put them both out of their misery. "I'd offer you tea, but there's no milk," he sighed.
"That's okay. I should get back anyway, or James will worry," Lily said. "Look, Sev… let me know how it goes, okay?" Lily waited until he nodded before she vanished through the floo again. He took one of the two glasses down from the cupboard, filled it with water and gulped it down before putting on his shoes.
He'd intended to go and see Annie. Somehow, though his steps pulled him away until he stood before the house where she'd grown up, in the nicer end of town. The brick was clear, bright red, cleaned regularly. The ubiquitous rose climbed up the trellis by the front porch; the path was scrubbed clean. The windows sparkled, the curtains neatly tied back. He took a deep breath, opened the gate (it most certainly did not squeak) and walked as confidently up the path as he could muster the guts for. Perhaps… perhaps they'd calmed down, would take Annie back. It was clear that her family meant a lot to her. Lily had been right; she wasn't really ready to manage in the world alone. She'd been so frightened...
The doorbell sounded distant, like his head was underwater. A prim woman in a flowered apron answered the door. She had Annie's eyes. "We don't wish to buy anything, thank you," she said, seeing him, and made to shut the door.
"Oh, no. I'm not selling anything, Mrs. Brandon," he said. Her name made her stop.
"Do I know you?" she asked.
"You may not remember me. My name is Severus Snape. I went to primary school with your daughter."
She narrowed her eyes. "What's this about?"
Severus swallowed hard. He was here now. He was no coward. "I wondered if I could speak to you and your husband about Annie," he replied.
So that was how he found himself perching uncomfortable on the edge of a beige sofa, complete with lace antimacassars. He studied a framed embroidery sampler as Mrs. Brandon poured him a cup of tea. Mr Brandon sat in a matching armchair, his legs crossed and his fingers tapping at the velveteen arm. Propriety dictated that he wait until tea was served until he launched in, so he waited until his wife had given both men a full cup, and Severus had taken a polite sip. "So, lad, what's this about?" he demanded.
Severus carefully set his cup on the provided lace coaster. "I met Annie yesterday, and she informed me of her… situation," he said carefully. "About the… about the said that you'd indicated she wasn't welcome here any longer."
"No daughter of mine is having a child out of wedlock," Mr Brandon said firmly. "So she can find the rouge that tumbled her, and she can marry him, or she can stay well away. And she can stop sending messengers to do her begging for her."
Severus tried to pull some kind of moisture into his dry mouth. He tried to swallow, but there was nothing there to force down his parched throat. He screwed up his courage. "It was me," he croaked.
Mrs. Brandon gasped, her hand going to her chest. Mr. Brandon was more sanguine. "Humph," he grunted. "Well, young man, you've spoilt her life quite spectacularly. I remember your father lurching down the street, blind drunk and cussing, but I've never heard bad of you. What's your career?"
Severus licked his lips. "I'm training to be a doctor, Sir," he replied.
Mr. Brandon nodded sagely, he clearly liked the answer. "Religious? I know I don't see you at mass. Are you Anglican, perhaps?"
"Not religious, Sir," Severus replied nervously. Why did he feel he was at a job interview? What was this man's objective?
"Then you won't object to the child being raised in the Catholic way," Mr. Brandon declared firmly. "You'll have to be baptised, of course, but that can be dealt with in a rush- we'll need to get you married as soon as possible. It's already a bit too late to claim a honeymoon baby, if Annie's telling the truth on the timing. Very well. You have my permission to wed my daughter. A month should be plenty to have the banns read, and you can be baptised just before the wedding."
Severus' hands had clenched into tight fists. He could barely breathe. This man had it all planned out… well, Severus had had enough of other people planning his life. "I shan't be marrying your daughter, Sir," he replied, as evenly as he could, forcing each word out. "I'll do everything I can to see that the baby is looked after, but I can't marry a woman I barely know."
Mr. Brandon was growing scarlet, then purple, with rage. Mrs. Brandon had given a few odd, breathy sobs. "Now, see here, boy…" Mr Brandon began.
Severus sprang to his feet, itching to draw his wand. "Will you have Annie back home?" he asked quickly, the words tumbling over each other. "She is your daughter." He edged towards the door.
Mr. Brandon exploded up out of his chair. "I have no daughter!" he spat, spraying Severus across the table. "You've ruined her life, boy, ruined it! You tell that harlot that she'll never darken my doorstep again!"
Severus didn't wait to be shown out; he near sprinted from the room, down the hall, and wrenched open the front door. He was sprinting down the street, and he didn't look back.
It was only when he'd rounded the corner that he slowed to a jog, then, a street further, stopped, and leaned against a low brick wall, panting. Well, that hadn't gone well. Annie hadn't been exaggerating. He gave himself a few minutes to breathe, then set off in the direction of Annie's temporary abode, still cursing himself for his stupidity.