March 11th 1946

She dare not look at it.

She never believed anyone could be as scared as she was at that moment. And of a baby. Had she finally gone insane?

She glanced in the direction of the crib, but no sooner had she turned her head, she looked away. It really was a pitiful sight. She had expected to be overflowing with joy and simply dazed by the wonder that she had produced life from herself, at least, that was how her Mother had described it.

But no. She had barely even taken one look at it before she'd had it taken away. I say 'it', because, well, I am ashamed to say she did not even know the sex of the child. What an inspiring start to motherhood she had made!

But suppose you would like to know why it is that she came to be so frightened of this innocent baby? Well, his name was Tom.

She winced at the thought of him, as if someone had ripped open the partially healed wound cut jagged in her heart. Before the birth, she had not thought of him at all. In fact, she had almost forgotten him. Almost.

She had not always been afraid of her baby. At first, she was even excited, believe it or not. It was mid August when she realised she was pregnant. She had not long been married – only a few weeks. She couldn't work out how she could be pregnant after such a small time since their wedding night. Her second realisation was not quite as nice as the first. Tom. His name rang in her head for months. She did not tell anyone, not for a while anyway. And no one seemed to notice when she started showing at only 2 months. Of course, she was really more like 4 months pregnant, maybe more, she could not be sure. She knew it was Tom's baby. The moment she realised she was pregnant she thought of him. But she never admitted it to herself. How could she? She was married now. If people knew it was not David's she would be shunned. And she couldn't run off to Tom. Oh no, he could never know about the baby.

He didn't deserve to. Not after all that he did. He was not exactly what you could call a father figure as well, quite far from it in fact. No, that would not do. So through out the 9 months, she pretended the child was David's, even to the point where she began to believe it herself. She only remembered the idea when she gave birth.

The labour had been long and all she could think about was Tom. After so long of denying her feelings for him, she let go. Embraced them, you might say. She had shouted and cried for him, never once even whispering it out loud but screaming it over and over in her mind, and David had comforted her, putting it down to the pain. But really she was oblivious to it. Her whole body was numb, except for her heart. She felt as though it would explode with agony for the pain rushing through it. She wanted Tom, not David. David was not enough. He never would be. She had sent him away; she could not bear to look at his face when she had such feelings coursing through her. But it was not his inferiority that made her unable to tolerate his presence, however much she wished it was this, as then it would be his fault instead of hers. No, it was her deep, deep shame. If anything, she was the inferior one. She did not deserve him and all the love he felt for her at all.

But still she had been so angry at him, she should have been angry at Tom, for it was his fault she was in the situation she was. She couldn't help her anger towards David though. Even so, she thought, what had he ever done? Sweet David, he had never stopped loving her, not for many years. Unlike Tom, she thought bitterly. Not that it mattered, she told herself. She would have the perfect family now. Mother, Father and Baby would all be happy.

But that is not what you want, a little voice in the back of her mind retorted. It was that rebellious voice. The one she had come to hate in the last year. It was always there, slipping in comments and remarks about her 'perfect' life with David.

The thought of David led her back to the baby. As she hesitantly flicked her eyes towards it once more, she longed to see the glint of his golden hair a top the newborns head.

But to her dismay all that could be seen was the soft cream of the blanket in which it lay sleeping. She would have to move closer. Her mind, anxious yet brimming with curiosity, willed her to go to her child, but her body would not comply.

She slowly moved her eyes to settle on the figure in the crib. She did not have to look at the baby, she reassured herself, just at the blanket. Yes, she would concentrate on the blanket. With a little effort, her head soon followed but her body still stayed stubborn. This was certainly not new of her.

Eventually, it moved. Slowly but surely, like she were dragging a rather heavy load for she was wracked with fatigue after the long labour. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and was startled as her bare feet met the icy floor, waking her up a little.

Baby steps, she thought. But then nearly laughed aloud at the irony.

She cautiously approached the crib the nurse had placed near the foot of the bed so the baby was in stark view of it, hoping Mother and Baby might 'bond' after being forced in a room together.

She did not usually do as she was supposed to, but fortunately, and although unwillingly, she did.

One look at the baby and she felt almost giddy with emotion. She did not think one person could feel so much love. Let alone herself.

But there she was looking down at the beautiful new baby girl. Her baby girl.

At this thought she was suddenly flooded with an emotion so strong she almost wept. Her Mother had been right! She couldn't understand why she had sent her away and not dared to look at her. She gazed at her face and took in her small features.

She looked lost in the thick blanket. She looked just like a porcelain doll, with her lips a soft shade of rose pink. She gently drew the blanket away from her, her fingers delicately sweeping across the velvety cheek, so as not to wake her. But immediately she pulled her hand back, as if it had been red hot.

She had seen her hair. It was black.

Not dark brown, like hers. Not a golden blonde, like David's. Black…like Tom's.

Her worse fear was confirmed. It was not until now that she remembered why she had sent her away. She had wanted to drag out not seeing her baby for as long as possible, for she was afraid she would see Tom's face staring back at her. But there was no denying it now. The resemblance was unnatural. She could even spot the same slight curl in her hair that she had loved so much in Tom's.

Footsteps in the hall broke her from the daze that accompanied her new discovery. She looked up to see her family outside of the door to her room. This was the last thing she needed at this point. She smiled weakly in recognition of their presence and they entered. Her Mother came in first, ever one to lead. She looked as glamorous as ever, with a deep purple jacket brought in to accentuate her small waist by a thin black belt and a matching below the knee skirt. She had a similarly coloured hat perched delicately on her head, which she hastily pulled off as she rushed over to her daughter's side. Not a single hair had been brushed out of place by the rapid action, but this was not surprising of her Mother. She had always followed fashion religiously and had encouraged her daughter to follow suit, forever buying her new clothes. Her daughter loved this and, always wanting to please her Mother, wore them with pride.

Her Father was an utterly different matter. Or should I say step-Father. Her real Father had died when she was young and had quickly been replaced, but she had kept his surname. She did not remember a lot about him, but she did not want to forget him entirely. Her new Father was smart, strict and strongly principled. But even he could not undermine her Mother. Around her he was a totally different person, submissive and defenceless. That was most probably why her Mother had married him. That and the money, of course. He was superbly rich and had very high status in society. This was another reason why her secret could never be uncovered.

Thankfully, she would not see her new daughter for the entire time her family was here as they would fuss over her for hours.

But then, however, there was David. He followed in behind her parents, a large grin plastered across his face; it had been permanently there since the birth. He swiftly made his way across the room in what seemed like a single step and embraced his wife with strong arms. He was a large man for his age and she had always felt safe in his embrace, but today was different. She could not look him in the eye.

The rest of evening was spent fussing over the baby, who, no, she still hadn't named. She had had barely enough time to think and the thought of naming her new daughter had not even crossed her mind.

She had pushed that thought to the back of her mind completely. To name her would be to establish her as a real, living, breathing human being. The thought of it made her breathless, so much that David took her hand in concern. She squeezed it tightly back and smiled, explaining she was tired. It was the most important day of his life, aside from their wedding, so letting him know of her internal turmoil was the last thing she wanted to do. She did not want to spoil it or alarm him in any way. It was her problem, so only she would have to deal with it. Things had been that way her entire life, so why would it change now?

She took a deep breath and held herself upright, refreshing her mind with a stronger attitude. She had been through heartache and pain before and come out the other side, therefore this time she would too. And so with this new determined and stronger outlook, she would forget about Tom and get on with her life with David. She had a beautiful new baby now; she could not let her past experiences let her forget this. This was a new focus for her. Even if the child was not David's, they would be one big happy family, in their new home in the country, just like normal people.

Tom was long gone anyway, she would not have to see him again and surprisingly this thought made her happy. Perhaps all her emotions towards him had gone now. She had properly cried over him during the birth, years of pent up emotion and anger had been expelled and now, she felt serene, everything was calm in her mind. Not the calm before the storm, more like the calm after...when everything is clear again, fresh. She was ready for her new, happy life...with David, how it was supposed to be. Nobody had to even think about Tom again. Never again would she anyway.

Never, ever again.