It was several hours before Loretta once again emerged from her room. Pascalle had been called to fill in for half a shift at the Janet Frame, after one of the other girls went home sick. Cheryl was taking advantage of the quiet to do some chores. She heard the toilet flush as she was carrying a basket of clean washing up from the laundry downstairs. Plonking it on the table, she started pulling items out, sorting and folding the things that didn't need ironing and piling up those that did. She looked up as Loretta entered the room, now wearing her customary baggy jeans and t-shirt, with her hair tied back away from her face.
"Hey love, how're you feeling?" Cheryl asked. Loretta shrugged noncomittaly, crossing behind her and heading for the kitchen.
"Hungry." She muttered, opening the fridge and peering inside.
"You want me to make you something?" Cheryl asked, pausing to consider what they had that her daughter might enjoy.
"Cereal's fine." Loretta answered, pulling the new bottle of milk out of the fridge and a bowl from the cupboard.
"Are you sure? You missed breakfast, you need something solid..."
"I'm fine." Loretta's voice had a warning edge to it. Then she paused and added "thanks anyway" as an afterthought. Cheryl waited until her youngest had settled herself at the table with a bowl of cornflakes. Then she also sat down.
"Love, if you want to talk about this morning..." she began. Loretta pinned her with a quelling look.
"I don't." She said abruptly, putting a spoonful of cereal in her mouth.
"It might help." Cheryl persisted. Loretta swallowed, agitatedly digging her spoon into her cereal a few times.
"How is talking supposed to help?" She asked. "It isn't going to make any of this go away, is it? It won't make me any less pregnant, or him any less of a dickhead..."
"Alright." Cheryl said, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. She got back up and reached into the washing pile again. "I just thought it might help you feel better, that's all. You know, get it out of your system." Loretta rolled her eyes and went back to eating her cereal in silence. Cheryl let her get a few mouthfuls of food down, then tried another approach. "He asked me to tell you he wants to talk to you." Loretta looked up sharply and she held up a hand, forestalling the imminent negative response. "He promised no lectures, he says he just wants to talk." Loretta's jaw set at a stubborn angle.
"I already said I don't want to talk to him." She replied, as the front door opened and Ted walked in, a copy of the latest horse-racing schedule in hand. Catching the last of her sentence, and her tone of voice, his curiosity was instantly aroused.
"Talk to who?" He asked. Loretta glanced up briefly, then looked back down into her bowl.
"No-one Grandpa." She said with a sharp shake of her head. Hayden was still a very sore subject with the eldest of the Wests, and Loretta really didn't feel like listening to him ranting. Ted looked at Cheryl, who ignored him, throwing the pile of clothes needing ironing back in the basket and carrying it over to the couch where she'd leaned the ironing board earlier. Ted shrugged.
"Suit yourself. I'll be in the loo if anyone wants me." He said indifferently, tucking the book under his arm and heading down the hall. Loretta quickly finished her cereal and took her bowl into the kitchen, rinsing it and leaving it next to the sink. She silently walked down to her room, emerging a minute or so later wearing a jacket, with her backpack slung over one shoulder.
"I'm going to work." She called out on her way to the front door. Cheryl stopped struggling with the ironing board for a moment.
"Will you be home for tea?" She asked, knowing better than to try to talk her daughter into staying home for the rest of the day. She settled for making sure she was home at a reasonable hour at least. "I thought I might do a roast."
"Yeah, should be." Loretta answered, stepping out and closing the door behind her. Cheryl sighed and went back to battling with the ironing board, finally wrestling it into standing up and locking into place.