Free A House Without Windows by Stevie Turner Page A

Yes, it’s Mummy but she’s got a different haircut.”
    Amy took another look at the lady on the bed and then rushed over and climbed up to sit by her mother’s side.  Beth gave the baby to her mother and wrapped her arms around her daughter.
     
    “I’m so, so glad to see you darling!”
    “Why have you cut all your hair off?”  Amy looked at her mother in surprise.  She hardly had any hair left at all.
    “I didn’t want it anymore.  This is called an elfin cut. The hairdresser put the plait in a bag for me.”
    “Can I see it?”
    “Yes, but see your brother first.”
    “You said he’s my stepbrother.”
    “Well, he is. But think of him as your brother.  We have a lot to thank him for.”
     
    Amy walked over to where Sally Nichols sat holding her grandson.
    “Hello. You look like Mummy.”
    “Hello Amy.  I’m your gra ndmother.  That means I’m your mummy’s mummy.  This man is your grandfather.”
     
    Amy looked up at her grandparents and smiled, and then peered at the little red, screwed up face contorted with rage at having his feeding bottle taken away.
    “He’s ugly!”
     
    Beth laughed and enjoyed the first sight of her daughter standing there with her grandparents:
     
    “He’ll pretty up as he gets older.  Do you know what his name is?”
    “What?”
    “Joss.  That’s short for Jocelyn.”
    “Jocelyn’s in my book!  He’s Philip and Dinah’s uncle!”
    “Well, this is a different Jocelyn.  He’s your little brother.  Joss doesn’t know it yet, but he’s a very special baby.  He saved us having to spend any more days and nights with Edwin.  We must take great care of him.”
     
    Amy stroked her brother’s cheek:
    “Thank you for saving us, Joss.  Thank you very much.”
     

PART 5 – LIAM
     

CHAPTER 24
     
    The rain finally decided to splatter the sidewalks as Dr Liam Darrah made his way along Elm Street, downtown Toronto.   Ducking into The World’s Biggest Bookstore to avoid a soaking he was soon lost among the familiar bookshelves, but that afternoon his gaze eventually wandered to the British newspaper section.  He liked to glance through The London Times once in a while; somehow the English place names made him feel closer to his father, still living alone in the wilds of Norfolk.  Every time he took Patty with him to visit they never seemed to get along, but then he remembered that most people usually rubbed his father up the wrong way.  The only person he’d ever seemed to get along with was Beth, but that was a long time and many tears ago.
     
    He picked up a copy of The Londoner Standard; it would be something to read on the tram back to Queen Street.  When the rain stopped he walked briskly towards the tram stop, the newspaper rolled under his arm.
     
    As usual the tram was full of shoppers with bulky purchases, workers hurrying to get home, and tourists.  There were a multitude of accents and he picked out the flat vowels of a family from somewhere in the North of England on the seat in front of him, making their way back to their hotel after a day out at the CN Tower and the Eaton Center.  He’d become quite proficient at recognising the British regional accents when he’d worked in Norfolk; at first they’d all sounded the same, but then as his ears had become accustomed to the variations in sounds he had found the different pronunciations quite delightful. 
     
    One of the British children was a toddler of around 18 months, who looked about the same age as his own son.  He stood up on the seat and looked around, until admonished by his mother.  Liam smiled at the mother and then decided to unfurl his newspaper for something to do.  He quickly read the headlines which were a couple of days old, but then the sounds of the people around him fell away as he gazed in stunned silence at the picture inside the front page.  The photograph caused him to miss his usual stop, and when he did look out of the window he found he’d ended