Savages

35: Skeletons

The fiery depth of Judit's emotions in the dark of the night was uncomfortable and foreign in the sober light of morning.

She went through the motions of lighting the embers and heating water, almost embarrassed at her agony a few short hours ago.

She still felt like dag, sure. She just cared less now.

She still hurt, but she could live with it.

In the night, her pain consumed her. Now, she was numb.

Whenever she thought of Brock, something struck her chest, physical and heavy, like a lead pipe.

But she could ignore that. She could ignore him. He was with Lintie. That was where he should be.

Why? Just because she's pregnant?

Judit's hands went to her stomach.

No. Because he belongs with her. She's the one.

For a moment, a technicolour fantasy invaded Judit's mind, getting up close, caressing her skin. Judit had a baby and Brock was with her, and he was smiling at her and putting his arm round her and looking after her, and they were a family.

She tore this away, forcefully, its tendrils grabbing at her pores, smarting as they ripped.

There was no way it would happen.

He'd told her himself, hadn't he? How little he wanted Lintie's baby, how he knew he would leave her, just like his dad left all those other women behind.

He didn't want that child, not at all.

Why would he want this one?

Pregnant.

Judit say down on the wooden bench, struggling to assemble a sane world in which all this was real. She was only sixteen. She couldn't be pregnant. It made no sense.

Teenage girls didn't get pregnant in Albia. Well, no, they did, but they didn't have babies. Abortion was free and easy, and it was a criminal offence to create a hungry mouth you couldn't feed. If you wanted a baby, you either needed crude digits to pay someone to look after it, or someone-a man, your family-to look after you. Teenagers didn't usually have any of that, so teenagers didn't have babies.

But there were no abortions here, as much as Judit wished there were.

As much as she wished she could make this ridiculous, unreal thing go away. She couldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't.

Skit.

Judit dropped her head into her hands, her face crumpling into tears.

She missed Sannah so much she could barely breathe.

It was hopeless. Everything was hopeless.

Judit was trapped. Utterly, utterly trapped on this oppressive island, in this horrible situation. Brock had let her down. Was only capable of letting her down. There was no solution to this situation.

What could they do? Her and him and Lintie all in a blackhouse together, playing happy families? Impossible. There was no way out.

No, all she could do was hide this for as long as she could, and try to think of a way to move on. Take it day by day. Ignore it. Ignore it all. It was the only way to get by.

You're dagged, Judit MaVae.

Judit let herself sob for a while, sitting on the bench, the fire smouldering in front of her.