Glass: After the Storm

Thirteen

Margaux unravelled the thick scarf from around her neck and took off her coat. She draped them over the chair, taking her phone from the pocket one last time to check for a message. Nothing. She scrunched her nose and put the phone away before climbing onto the examination bed and lying back with a long, disappointed exhale.

The room was dimly lit; calm and inviting. Yet the distinctive hospital smell still hung in the air, making her anxious and uneasy. The technician entered the room and smiled, picking up the folder of Margaux's pregnancy notes and looking over them as she spoke.

"Margaux Holmes..."

"That's me."

"Lovely. Let's get started, can you lift your top up?"

Margaux rolled up her thick, knitted jumper as the technician pulled out a roll of measuring tape. She stretched the tape over her stomach, biting the inside of her cheek.

"You're twenty weeks?" she asked.

"Twenty weeks and three days."

"Hm. You're measuring a little bit bigger."

"Oh god," Margaux sighed. "You know I've been having nightmares about giving birth to a giant baby."

The technician laughed. "It's normal to be bigger with your second child. Is the father tall?"

"Around six foot."

"Well there you go, blame him."

Margaux smiled and glanced over at her coat. "He was actually supposed to meet me here. I can't believe he's missing this."

"Aw I'm sorry. When we're done, I can get you some leaflets about pregnancy as a single mother..."

"Oh no, I'm married to the baby's father. He's just a pain in the arse."

"Oh," the technician snorted. "Sorry."

Margaux watched as she set up the machine and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Her skin pricked with goose bumps as the cold gel squirted onto her stomach, and she waited quietly as the transducer glided over her skin.

The thudding of a healthy heartbeat cut through the quiet. The technician turned the screen towards her with a smile before beginning to click and type on the machine as Margaux lay staring at the blurry image of her baby.

"So... Is my child going to be huge?" she asked.

"I doubt it," she laughed. "Everything is fine; your bump's just measuring bigger than what the baby actually is."

"Oh good, so I'm just fat. I can deal with that."

"Are you wanting us to try and find out the sex today?"

Margaux sighed. "I feel strange finding out without my husband..."

Like a reliable cuckoo clock, the door swung open. The two women jumped in fright at the sudden burst of chaos, staring in shock at the tall shadow in the doorway. As the figure stepped into the room, the technician jumped up from her chair.

"You can't be in here!"

"I am so sorry," said Margaux, her chest rising and falling quickly. "This is my husband."

"Your husband?"

"I told you he was a pain in the arse."

Sherlock closed the door behind him and made his way quickly to the chair beside the bed. The closer he came, the more she realised that he still looked like a shadow; a perfect silhouette moving across the room. He was covered in soot. From his curly hair to his clothes, even his usually creamy-coloured skin was coated in a film of thick, black dust.