Free Death in a Family Way by Gwendolyn Southin Page A

I’m doing. I get paid, too.” She couldn’t help slipping that in, but regretted it a moment later as Harry’s face went a mottled red.
It’s funny how fair-skinned men show their emotions so easily,
she thought.
    â€œAre you trying to tell me I don’t provide for you adequately?”
    Margaret looked at him sitting in his chair, complete bewilderment on his face. He
really
couldn’t see what was wrong with their life.
My God, we are so polite with each other. We can’t even have a real mud-slinging, loud row.
Even our sex life has become polite. For a brief moment she felt sorry for him, but that was snuffed when he said, “What will they say at the firm? And they’re bound to find out that my wife . . . of all people, my wife,” he spluttered, “is working in a sleazy rundown detective agency.”
    â€œActually, Harry,” she said, as she scooped up the cups fromthe coffee table, “I don’t give a damn! And neither should you!” And she marched out the door. In the kitchen, she took a few deep breaths before she began putting the dishes away on the shelves, banging a few cupboard doors for good measure.
And I’m sure as hell not going to give up my job!

CHAPTER SIX
    Sixteen-year-old Sally Fielding desperately wanted her mother. But even more than that, she wanted the awful pain to stop. She buried her face in the pillow to muffle her cries as the next wave of pain wracked her body, but the stern-faced nurse appeared at her bedside anyway.
    â€œEnough of that,” she said as she leaned over Sally to prod her swollen abdomen with icy fingers. “You’re going to need all your strength soon. Are you timing your pains like I told you to?”
    â€œYes. Every two minutes,” Sally answered miserably. “When is it going to be over?”
    â€œSoon, I hope,” the nurse said over her shoulder as she walked toward the door, then added for good measure, “Why do I always get the difficult cases?”
    But it was several more hours before Sally looked down at her little dark-haired daughter lying across her stomach. She was still attached to her by the umbilical cord, and Sally put out a tentative hand to touch the damp little head. “She’s . . . she’s beautiful.”
    â€œYou did well,” the doctor said kindly. “Lie still for a little while and we’ll soon have you cleaned up.”
    She watched the delivery room nurse clean the baby’s eyes, fasten a bracelet around the little ankle and then wrap her in a pink blanket. And she knew then what was meant by a brokenheart, as she listened to the cries of her newborn baby getting fainter and fainter as they carried her away. “I can’t give her up . . . I can’t.” But they had made it quite clear that if they helped her solve her problem, there would be no turning back.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Harry hid behind his newspaper and gave a grudging thank you when Margaret placed his cereal and coffee before him. He folded the paper precisely to the stock exchange section and reached around it for the cup.
    As Margaret gathered up her dishes to take to the sink, Harry finished reading, carefully refolded the paper into its original lines and placed it squarely on the table. “My grey pinstripe suit will be ready at the cleaners,” he said, putting the stub on the table, “if you think you can spare the time to pick it up.”
    â€œI’ll get it tomorrow, Harry,” she answered, “when I do my Saturday shopping.”
    â€œI take it you intend to go on with this nonsense.”
    â€œI haven’t changed my mind.”
    He stood up and brushed non-existent crumbs from his jacket. “If you embarrass me in any way, Margaret, I’ll . . .”
    â€œHow the hell can my having a job embarrass you?”
    â€œWhat the girls will say, I can’t imagine. And . . .” Another awful thought had come into his