Authors notes: Thanks to everyone that reviewed and thanks also to Karen for her comments. Here is the second chapter. Please read and review and I'll try to update as soon as I can. Just to warn you it may take me a while to update as i'm back at school on Monday and I also suffer from m.e (I get very tired very easily) so it'll depend on how school is and how I'm feeling. But I'll try not to leave it too long.
Chapter 2
It's early evening and Andrea Dunbar unlocks the door to her ground floor flat. Pushing the door open, she turns back round, placing her hands on the handles of a baby's pram. She uses the handles to slightly lift the front of the pram, up over the step in front of the door. She then parks the pram just inside the entrance of the flat before returning her attention to the front door.
Once the door is safely locked, she turns round to glance inside the pram, at the sleeping form of her baby daughter. She smiles to herself before making her way into the flat, her hand searching a wall for a light switch. The flat floods with light as she flicks the switch.
Her eyes glide around what is a small living room adjoined to a tiny kitchen area. There's no feeling of warmth that can be gained from the room, just a tired sort of gloominess. The flat has definitely seen the end of its better days.
With the room being small there's not much in there, a TV, a small end table accompanied by two chairs, and a sofa in fairly good condition, rescued from Andrea's old flat in Sunhill. The rest of the room has been taken over by baby stuff; a small bouncer chair sits by the sofa. The sofa being half covered by a pile of baby clothes and blankets, various toys and teddies line the floor, while the kitchen side is cluttered by empty feeding bottles.
Andrea weaves her way through the chaotic room, to the kitchen area. Picking up the kettle, she fills it with water, before replacing it to its stand and flicking it on. Waiting for the kettle to boil she busies herself clearing the kitchen counter. As she does this her mind flicks through the days events.
It's been an average day, nothing unusual or exciting happened. She woke up, feed Annabelle and got them both ready before dropping Annabelle at the nursery and then heading off to work.
Her morning at work consisted of the same old routine and in Andrea's opinion was extremely boring. Her job working part-time as a secretary in a small law firm, dealing with small crime cases, seems along way away, from her days as a probationer at Sunhill. It does however pay for a roof over herself and Annabelle's heads and she knows she's lucky; she could have easily ending up working in a supermarket. The job despite being dull and boring does allow her to use skills from both her two previous jobs. Her writing skills from being a journalist and her knowledge about small crimes, gained from her time at Sunhill, do come in use. Truthfully though she'd much rather be back at Sunhill doing the job she loved, her love for the job one of the reasons she didn't even contemplate looking for a job in journalism again. The other reason being the love for her daughter's father but that's something Andrea prefers not to think about these days.
Her daughters wakening cries disrupt her thoughts, it's as if she knows her mothers thoughts are about to drift into a better forgotten territory. Andrea makes her way over to the pram where she left her daughter sleeping. The small baby's cries seem to subside, as Andrea leans over the pram to take her daughter into her arms. The crying dies completely as Andrea gently rocks the baby to and fro in her arms.
"Hello sweetie, I think we'd better get you fed" Andrea says smiling down at the baby in her arms. She then walks over to the sofa, carefully placing Annabelle in her bouncer chair, before moving over to the kitchen area to make up a bottle of milk for her daughter.
After feeding Annabelle, she lays her on a blanket that's spread on the floor, a few baby toys also lay there. Andrea then heads towards the pram, to grab a couple of shopping bags from the storage area of the pram. Keeping an eye on Annabelle, who seems quite content waving a rattle in the air, she starts unpacking the shopping, putting away the groceries and the few baby essentials needed for Annabelle.
The shopping had been done that afternoon. After her morning at work she'd gone to pick Annabelle up from the pricey day nursery, which looks after Annabelle when Andrea has to work. The nursery is situated just 5mins from the small town, so after picking her daughter up, she made her way there to do some shopping.
After getting the things she needed, they had pasted a small baby boutique which they often past when walking home. Stopping to look in the window is a habit of Andrea's, gazing at the beautifully made baby clothes and lovely toys that are too expensive for Andrea's budget. It brings back the all too familiar regrets that have followed her around the past year, as well as a handful of wishes of, if only.
If only she told Neil the truth from the start.
If only they hadn't argued.
If only Neil was here now.
Pushing away the faint prickling of tears, she had turned away from the window, pushing the pram again as they'd made their way home.
She continues unpacking the shopping, trying to focus on the task in hand, rather than dwelling on the guilt she feels from the mistakes she's made. By the time she's finished putting away the afternoon's purchases, Annabelle has fallen asleep again. Picking her up, Andrea enters her bedroom, placing Annabelle in the crib that sits beside her bed. Once she's made sure her sleeping daughter is comfortable, Andrea goes back into the living area, making sure she leaves the bedroom door open so she can listen out for Annabelle.
As she continues tidying the flat, she comes across the days post, hidden under a pile of washing. She hadn't had time to look at it that morning, too busy trying to juggle the tasks of getting herself and Annabelle ready. Scoping the washing up she takes it to the machine, loading it in and then adjusting the various dials and buttons to set the wash going. She then goes back to where the washing had lain, to pick up the post.
Settling herself down on the sofa, she begins to open each letter. There are five letters in total. The first two are bills, which Andrea swiftly reads through before discarding them on the empty seat of the sofa next to her. The third trying to get her to sign up to a credit card, further money problems being the last thing she needs, this one is put in separate pile destined for the bin. The next is a reminder that Annabelle has a check up at the baby clinic the next week, and is placed alongside the bills.
It's the fifth and final letter in the pile, though that holds Andrea's attention. The familiar handwriting which states her address on the envelope is what catches her eye. She carefully opens it and reads the letter, there's no need to glance at the name at the end of the letter, to see who it's from. She already knows who wrote it.
The letter's from Neil. A year of working together and she recognises his handwriting instantly. He wants to come and see Annabelle that Tuesday, or going by the exactwords in the letter, he is coming to see Annabelle on Tuesday. He's taken the day off and he's coming round. There's no asking her if it's alright in the letter, just that he is coming round. He says that he's sorry he hasn't been in contact before now but things have been difficult and he'll explain more on Tuesday.
The letter leaves Andrea feeling quite shocked, yes, more than anything she wants Neil to take an interest in their child but the letter doesn't quite ring true to her. It's content completely different to the letter she received back from Neil after writing to tell him he had a daughter.
Jumping off the sofa she creeps quietly into her bedroom searching out the other letter from her bedside table. Once she's found it she returns to the sofa, holding one letter in each hand. Looking at the letters, the most obvious difference is staring back at her. The first letter is typed, the letter received today, is handwritten in Neil's handwriting.
As she continues to compare the two, one virtually disowning Annabelle, the other eager to meet her, it becomes apparent that the first letter she received, the one which nearly broke her heart, couldn't have been written by Neil.