The hot sun beat down on the exposed skin on the back of her neck. Dust stuck to her and everything in sight, making for an all around uncomfortable morning.
Hoping to find more promise in the sands, the team excavated the land around where a few broken hair clips, cups, and what looked like an item of cutlery had been discovered.
A light breeze ruffled her curls and cooled her overheated flesh. It blew sand and dust into hair, ears, eyes, nose, and mouth, making her tongue feel heavy and overlarge. For days now she had been more tired and sore, and wondered if such an extended amount of time in England had lowered her stamina for the demands of a dig. She mopped at her brow as she took extensive notes on the small treasures the team was unearthing. She had just finished a small piece of jewelry when one of her team, Geoffrey, walked over to her.
"Tea, Dr. Mottershead?" He asked, setting the tray on the table where he worked.
"Thank you." She smile, though the thought of the liquid did nothing to appeal to her. If anything, it made her mouth feel even more dry. She reached into her bag for her canteen and slowly sipped the crisp liquid, washing the rough feel of dust from her mouth.
Around half past eleven she set her pen and notebook aside and stood to stretch. She raised her arms above her head and winced; her chest had been so sore lately. She wondered if she had pulled a muscle, yet could recall no time she had over exerted herself lifting something.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over her, and she wondered if there was a possibility of sneaking away for a nap while the heat of the day beat down on the land. Figuring as one of the leaders of this dig, and certainly the most knowledgeable, she could retire to the house where they were staying.
A lovely woman a few years older than she, was in charge of the house, which she ran like an inn. When Blanche entered the house she was greeted by the woman.
"Hello, Yeyah." She said with a tired smile as she removed her hat and fanned herself with it. "It's going to be a hot day."
"I believe you are right. Good thing you came back now." She took Blanche's bag and walked with her to her room.
"It's making me so tired." Blanche confessed. "I love hot weather, but it just feels stifling lately." A sudden thought hit Blanche and she didn't stop herself from pondering it aloud. "I wonder... is it possible to be going through the change at my age?" At forty-three she wondered if perhaps what she'd heard some people say about her alternate lifestyle running round ancient lands and living off a plant-based died were true. Were they causing her to age more quickly? Certainly that was rubbish. But she hadn't had her cycle yet, thought it sometimes came late when she was preoccupied. The possible ending of her childbearing years could explain the sensitivity in her breasts, and the constant desire for sleep, as well as a lowered tolerance for the heat.
"You couldn't be. You're far too young!" The woman admonished, "I have a sister ten years older than you -like clockwork!" She said with a snap of her fingers. But the woman, who had known Blanche for several years now, did think there was something different about her. But she would have thought it impossible -the woman had no lovers to speak of, and she wasn't interested in any of the men on her team, so it seemed impossible.
"What is it?" Blanche asked, "You look as though you've had a million thoughts at once."
Forgive me, I had a wild thought." The woman said with a laugh as Blanche opened the door to her room.
"What was it?" She asked with a smile as she took back her bag.
"I just thought... you remind me of how I felt when I was expecting. But it's crazy, I know."
Blanche laughed, "Expecting. I couldn't be pregnant. No. I must be ending my cycle early in life, it's the only logical explanation. Besides you have to sleep with a man to find yourself pregnant."
"I know, as I said I have crazy thoughts." The woman laughed and turned to leave. As Blanche was closing the door to her room, she felt her heart skip a beat -you have to sleep with a man.
Memories from the night she had been successfully trying to forget rushed back. She knew about pregnancy, being a woman who liked facts. She'd read up on it when she'd gone to live with her nephew Hallam when his wife Agnes was expecting their second child. She'd spent time with young pregnant girls in her time exploring distant lands. But she never thought -wasn't she too old to conceive a child? She may be too young for menopause, but she was certainly to old to be pregnant! That had to be a fact!
She sank down onto her bed and pulled her diary out of her bag, flipping back through he days until she found a small 'X' eleven weeks back.
Eleven weeks? Why hadn't she questioned being late two months ago? She placed the diary on her night stand and laid back on the bed. After a nap her head would feel clearer, and she would be able to think this out rationally; there was nothing she could do about it at the present time.
Sleep didn't come as easily as she had hoped, and she tossed and turned. She got out of bed and opened the window, praying for a breeze to stir air through the stuffy room. She stripped off her dress and lay atop the covers in her slip, then rolled onto her stomach and found her chest too sensitive to get comfortable. Rolling onto her back again, she ran her hands down her body. She had a reasonably sized front, but they somehow felt bigger and heavier. She felt panic rise and reached for her diary once again and flipped to the directory in the back, looking up the name of one of the physicians she knew in the area, Dr. Piedmont. The man had been educated in England and had seen Blanche every now and again if she injured herself on site. Unable to get comfortable without knowing, she dressed and went to the clinic in order to give her mind some ease.
Days she had been waiting, and it was driving her mad. Almost a week had passed when she saw Dr. Piedmont walking toward the excavation site. One of the team, Thomas, stopped him and Blanche rushed over to the pair.
"No, no, it's alright. He's here to see me. Please come through, Dr. Piedmont." She showed him to her makeshift office of the day. "Well?" She asked when they were out of earshot. "What news have you got for me?" She'd had far too much time to think and imagine one of two situations in her head.
He smiled at her, "You should probably start taking it easy; you are expecting."
Perhaps it was all the scenarios she'd played out in her head, or having nearly a week to come to terms with the possibility, but she wasn't nearly as floored as she thought she would have been. "Oh..." was all she could manage to force out.
"I might recommend you go back to your family in England. I heard the war hasn't reached the countryside. I suspect Hitler isn't interested in sheep and cottages."
The prospect of going back home and giving birth to a child in the middle of a war terrified her, even as the Doctor smiled and reassured her it would be fine.
She had left England when Hallam insisted Agnes go with the children outside the city. Asserting her newfound sense of self, she had tried to insist on staying in London to help with the war effort, but eventually gave in. She had begged Blanche to come with her, but Blanche had had other ideas, and sought refuge in work. She didn't want to sit and wait for the doom that may or may nor come.
The Doctor watched her face, "Think on it. The country will be better for the baby than the hot desert. I'm sure there are museums that are exporting their artifacts to outlying towns -it would give you something to do in the time you have on your hands."
"Yes... yes, alright, I'll think of something, I'm sure. Thank you so much for coming out here to tell me. I appreciate it."