Blue Comes Through

Chapter Four

I wake early and just lie for a few minutes listening to the sound of the sea. It's a soothing, rhythmic murmur today, rather than the roar of last night. The howling wind has dropped and apart from the sound of Will's steady breathing coming from the cot beside the bed, it's very quiet.

Will had woken around midnight and I'd brought him to bed with me. I'd forgotten just how much he wriggled and squirmed and after a couple of kicks in the ribs and an arm flung across my face, I'd decided to move him back to the cot. He'd been restless for a couple of minutes, probably because of the change in temperature after leaving my warm bed. I tucked 'Dog' in beside him, covered him with the blankets, stroked his curls gently and very quickly his arms went up above his head and he was back in a deep sleep.

I glance at the small alarm clock on the bedside table and the red numbers glow five thirty six, two little red dots blinking at me, counting the seconds. I lie there snuggled under a crisp white duvet and I feel oddly content. Holed up in this cosy cottage, I feel warm and safe and I'm secure in my decision to leave. I know my mood can swing like a pendulum very quickly and the panic I felt in the taxi can easily return, but for now lying in this four poster bed, with Will in a cot beside me, I feel calm and optimistic.

I doubt that I'll go back to sleep now, so after a few minutes, I slip quietly from the bed to pad out into the kitchen. I flick the side lights on and the room is bathed in a soft glow. I fill the kettle and make tea. I didn't draw the curtains of the french doors leading to the balcony last night, so I wander over to gaze out into the dark morning, sipping my tea, my hands wrapped around the mug.

The balcony looks towards the hotel and the beach beyond, but apart from a few lights in the hotel, I am looking at shadowy silhouettes as the view is shrouded in darkness. It's very quiet. It's too early even for hotel staff and I know the cottages around me are empty. I don't feel uneasy by that though. I feel safe in my little granite haven.

I decide that we are just going to enjoy the first week of our stay in the cottage, treat is as a little holiday. That will give us the time to settle, look around the area and for me to heal. After a week, my face should be much improved and I can start to look for work and somewhere more permanent to live, without my cuts and bruises causing curiosity.

I am a bit concerned about a potential employer asking for references, as I really don't want to disclose my previous address or have them unknowingly reveal my whereabouts, when they contact my referees. I'll just have to find a way around it. I'm not sure quite how. It's one of the dominos that'll need a bit of creativity

I hear Will call, not really a distressed cry but a demand for attention. I put down my mug to hurry into the bedroom. He's standing up, gripping the bars and smiles when he sees me, his blonde curls sleep mussed, his cheeks flushed. I lift him from the cot and settle him against my hip, talking to him quietly as I grab a nappy from the change bag and lay him on the bed, deftly snapping open the poppers at the bottom of his sleepsuit, to complete a swift nappy change. Once he's clean and dry, I blow raspberries on his tummy, which makes him squeal with laughter. He stays obligingly still, watching me with his big navy eyes as I tuck his legs back in and refasten his sleep suit

"You're too cooperative, soldier." I tell him dryly. "You must still be tired."

I carry him into the kitchen, where I warm a bottle, as he looks around, sucking his thumb, taking in his surroundings. I make myself another tea and settle down into the armchair beside the balcony.

Will wraps one hand over mine as I hold the bottle and tangles his other hand in my hair. He plays with it, rubbing it in his chubby fingers, a sure sign he's still tired.

His routine is seven until seven so I'm not surprised when I see his eyes become heavy as he drains the last of the bottle, the teat falling from his mouth as he drifts back off into a peaceful sleep.