1933

"Got the tickets?"

"Check."

"Luggage?"

"Check."

It was summer and nineteen-year-old Vera had determined to find Fleta as she had just remembered her recently and wanted to see how she was doing and Evelyn agreed to come with her. Neither of them cared that their father had told them no; what mattered was finding their cousin. Besides, it was too late to turn back; they were already at the train station.

"Ready, Vera?" asked Evelyn.

"More than I'll ever be," replied Vera.

When Evelyn and Vera reached their destination (St. Elizabeth's church in London), Vera's heart was pounding wildly. What would Fleta be like? Would she still be the harlot she was when she first arrived? Or would she be an uptight prude who insisted Vera and Evelyn change into more decent clothes (and they were wearing just standard dresses that weren't all that revealing)? More importantly, what about the baby? Was the baby born okay? Or did it die? Or did Fleta miscarry?

"Hello?" called out Vera as she and Evelyn walked through the hallow halls of the church. "Fleta?"

"Fleta's my mummy," said a tiny voice.

Evelyn and Vera turned around and looked down to see a tiny boy who looked no older than three. "Do you know where my mummy is?" asked the little boy. "I got lost."

"No, but we're trying to find her," said Evelyn.

At that moment, a woman who looked like Fleta (but couldn't possibly be her; she was dressed in far more decent clothes than the last time the girls saw her and her hair was up in a bun) came rushing up to the little boy. She stopped when she saw Evelyn and Vera. "Evelyn? Vera?" she whispered.

"Fleta!" gasped Vera. She gave Fleta a hug and said, "Oh, it's so good to see you! How have you been? Have you been sleeping around lately?"

"Oh no, I'm quite past that phase!" laughed Fleta. "I see you've met my son, Matthew?"

"So this is your son," said Evelyn, bending down to Matthew's size. "We're cousins of your mummy. I'm Evelyn and the lady who just hugged your mummy is Vera."

"Hullo," said Matthew, who was quite oblivious to what was going on.

"Matthew and I were just getting ready to go home," said Fleta. "Do you want to come?"

"Home?" asked Vera. "Isn't this your home?"

"The nuns finally let me out when I turned eighteen, but for one matter, I didn't have enough money to go back to the United States," explained Fleta. "And second, I've grown to love England too much to leave even if I had."

When they got to Fleta's house, Fleta had quite a lot to say about her life during the past few years, as though she had been waiting to meet Evelyn and Vera again. She had been quite miserable during her first few weeks of staying at the convent, but eventually learned to deal with it. One particular nun helped her throughout her pregnancy and convinced Fleta that becoming a mother would be quite rewarding. On April the tenth, 1933, Fleta brought little Matthew Wilbur Claythorne into the world.

"And you're sure you've broken your habit of sleeping with a different man everyday?" asked Vera.

"First of all, you're exaggerating," said Fleta, pouring herself more tea. "It was not a different man everyday; it may have seemed that way to you, but it was actually just one or two men each week. And second, hasn't it ever occurred to you that people can change? People change in one of two ways: They either change for the better, or for the worst. I'm sure you will someday, too, Vera."

"I hope it's for the better then," said Vera. "Also, is it just me, or does Matthew resemble Victor Locksmith just a tad?"

"That's what I thought so, too," said Fleta. "I hope there's no hard feelings over him anymore?"

"Of course not," said Vera. "Victor was just a silly crush I had. Now if he was someone I was actually in love with, it would be a different matter."

"By the way, have you fallen in love yet?" asked Fleta.

"Oh, I've met quite a few handsome young men, but I don't feel anything with any of them," said Vera. "I can't wait until the day I fall in love for real, though."

"I'm not sure if you really want that day to come," said Fleta cautiously. "I've yet to fall in love myself, but from what I've heard, love can drive someone insane."

"Why?" asked Vera. "It doesn't sound all that bad. In fact, it sounds wonderful. And who are you to tell me this if you haven't fallen in love yet yourself?"

Fleta winced. "Touche."

Vera and Fleta took a walk through the park to get acquainted some more while Evelyn baby-sat Matthew.

"Remember the tricks we used to play on each other when we were younger?" asked Fleta.

"Oh yes," laughed Vera. "I especially recall the s-word incident."

"And I recall finding a dead frog in my suitcase," mused Fleta.

"For your information, it was alive when I put it in your suitcase," pointed out Vera.

Before the two could talk any further, they heard a loud scream. Fleta and Vera ran towards the source of the scream—and found a pregnant woman who was clutching her stomach.

"Hospital," she breathed. "Get me to the nearest—hospital. Baby's--coming!"

Even when Fleta and Vera brought the woman to the nearest hospital, they decided to stay by her side.

"What's your name?" asked Fleta.

"Jennifer," said the woman when a particularly strong contraction ended. "Jennifer Hayes."

"I'm Fleta Claythorne, and this is my cousin, Vera," said Fleta.

Vera decided to pass the time by having a conversation with Jennifer: "So, Jennifer…forgive me if this question is too personal, but…where's the father? Did he abandon you, or were you raped, or…?"

"Neither," replied Jennifer. "I left him."

"Why?" asked Vera. "Didn't you want him to help raise the baby?"

"I did," sighed Jennifer. "But I overheard him talking to a friend of his. He said he never wanted to be a father, that it may be a lifestyle for some men, but it just wasn't for him, that he doesn't want to be tied down for the rest of his life by a 'snivelling brat', as he puts it. I knew then that it was no good telling him; I thought he'd leave me if I told him, so I just said goodbye without an explanation and…left."

"So you figured that if you beat him to it, it wouldn't hurt as much," said Vera slowly.

"Right," said Jennifer.

"Where have you been living during your pregnancy?" asked Vera.

"With my sister and her husband," replied Jennifer. "I plan on raising the baby with them until I earn enough money to find a place of my own."

"You seem to be handling this a hell of a lot better than I did," commented Fleta.

"Well, from what you've told me, you were a month away from seventeen when you had your son," said Jennifer. "During those years, you're too young to be a woman but too old to be a child, so the idea of being a mother sounds terrifying. Oh believe me, the idea of becoming a single mother scares me, too, but I'm able to handle it better because, I don't know…maybe it's because I'm more mature and have had more life experience."

"How do you know the father would've left you?" asked Vera. "How do you know he doesn't love you so much, he'd make an exception just for you?"

There was a long pause before Jennifer softly replied, "I don't know. And I'm not willing to take that chance. It's too late, anyway."

"But you could always just write to him and ask him to at least send you child support money," suggested Fleta.

Jennifer shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't think he'd make a very good father, anyway; he's far too selfish and cowardly."

"Then what made you fall in love with him?" asked Vera.

"I'm not sure," said Jennifer slowly. "Love is a complicated issue, as I trust you'll learn when you're older. There is no rational explanation for love; it just is. Love is blind; it makes you see past someone's flaws and only the good parts of them and you'll find yourself justifying their flaws. I suppose it was how although he appears tough, deep down, he's a true romantic." She smiled at the memories. "I remember one time he led me into a park in the middle of the night and surprised me with a candlelit dinner on a picnic table, with one of his friends playing the violin nearby! Afterwards, he took me to his house and…we made love for the first of several times."

"That sounds so romantic," sighed Vera.

"It was," nodded Jennifer. "I'll tell you this right now: Don't allow yourself to be swept away by the romantic scenario of love. It isn't all that grand; it can get messy."

Vera and Fleta stayed with Jennifer for a few more minutes talking about other things before a doctor came in and chased them out.

The next day, Evelyn and Vera had to leave for their hometown, but they gave Fleta their address so they could write to each other everyday.

During the train ride, a man who looked vaguely familiar sat down next to Evelyn and Vera. "Have we met somewhere before?" asked the man.

"Perhaps in another life," shrugged Evelyn.

"My family lives in London, you know," said the man. "I'm just going away on a business trip for a little while. Then again, I'm used to travelling around a lot. A few years ago, my family stopped in Torquay for a while during the summer and while there, I met some crazy girl who kept flashing her cleavage at me and I somehow wound up in her bed. There was one instance where two girls who looked similar to the two of you walked in on us. And the taller girl looked rather attractive."

Evelyn gasped, "Richard Barclay?"

A/N: Meh, not the best I've done, but I'm saving all my creative energy for 1935, which is just two more chapters away! Yay! :-)