Stepping out of the maternity centre, Nicole slumped onto a bench and pulled her phone from her handbag. After a few long rings, Daniel answered.
“Dan, why didnt you meet me?” Nicole asked, her voice heavy.
“Im on my way, love! Traffic!” Daniel blurted. Angry honks and muffled shouts filled the background.
“Ive already left,” Nicole said. “I couldnt stay there any longer.”
A sigh crackled through the line. He understood.
“Waiting,” she muttered before hanging up.
Tucking her phone away, Nicole took a deep breath and glanced around. A crisp autumn breeze tugged golden leaves from the trees, and the sun cast a gentle warmth, as if offering its last embrace before winter. The last of the Indian summer lingered. Mothers strolled with their children, soaking in the rare warmth while little ones shrieked and tumbled into piles of rustling leaves. The playground outside the centre was packedcruelly so, as if taunting her.
Nicoles throat tightened. She would never bring her own child here. Because she would never have one. This was her fourth miscarriage. This time, theyd sent her to a specialist centre. Daniel hadnt hesitated to pay. Yet the doctors had no answers. Both of them were perfectly healthy. The diagnosis”recurrent pregnancy loss of unknown cause”still glared from her file. Her consultant had looked at her with pity and seriously suggested she “have faith and pray.”
Her thoughts shattered as someone sat beside her. Nicole turned. An elderly Roma woman settled next to her, wrapped in a flowery skirt and headscarf, heavy gold earrings glinting.
“Sad, my dear?” the woman asked without preamble.
Nicole nodded.
“I see your little one didnt stay,” the woman murmured.
“How do you know?” Nicole blurted, half-suspecting the woman had sources at the centre. Here it comesthe curse, the hex, the demand for money…
“Your dreams they hold the answer. Every time, before you lose the child, the same dream comes. Look there for the clue. A curse lies on you, girl. The child will show you. When its lifted, another dream will come, and youll know its over.”
Nicole gaped. Shed told no one about the dreamsnot even Daniel.
Before she could speak, the woman stood and walked away, astonishingly without demanding a penny.
***
A week earlier.
The same train station again, the platform split in twoone side bright and welcoming, the other dark and grim. Nicole stood at the border, torn between them. Other women waited too, restless.
A train whistle pierced the air. The locomotive roared past, wind whipping Nicoles hair. Her heart pounded.
The doors slid open. Children spilled outtoddlers in colourful dresses and tiny shirtsrushing into waiting arms. But on the dark side, older children boarded reluctantly, tears streaking their faces.
Nicole scanned the windows. Some children lingered inside, drifting toward the dark car as hope faded. Then she saw hera little girl with fair hair and green eyes, waving sadly. One hand was tucked behind her back.
Love surged through Nicole, raw and overwhelming. She lunged forwardbut a conductor in a crisp white suit barred her way.
“No. The child must come to you.”
The girl didnt move. She wanted toNicole could see itbut something held her back. The girl mouthed words: “Mummy, Ill come! Just later!”
“When, sweetheart? When?” Nicole cried.
“When you free the bird!” The girl revealed her hidden hand. A blue tit sat on her palm, skewered by a needle. Blood dripped onto her tiny fingers. With a sigh, the girl retreated into the dark car.
The conductor smiled and boarded. The train pulled away, leaving Nicole and the others bereft.
***
“Nic, wake up!” Daniels voice snapped her back.
She blinked. She was home, staring at a paintinga winter scene, a rowan branch dusted with snow, two blue tits perched on it. A reconciliation gift from Daniels ex, Marina, years ago.
Nicole squinted. Something glinted on one birds side.
“Nic, okay?” Daniel touched her shoulder.
She brushed him off, lifted the painting, and turned it over. A needle pierced the canvas, hidden just rightits tip pricking the birds breast.
Marinas handiwork.
“This is why,” Nicole whispered. “This is the curse.”
***
An hour later, they returned to the centre. The Roma woman waited on the bench, as if expecting them.
“You knew?” Nicole asked.
“Knew youd come,” the woman said. “Found the thread?”
“With the needle still in it,” Nicole said bitterly. “You can help us? Well pay”
The woman smiled.
***
Five months later.
The same station. The same platform. But this time, Nicole stood on the bright side, heart racing.
The train arrived. The conductor stepped out, radiant in white.
And thenrunning, stumblingthe little girl with fair hair and green eyes. She crashed into Nicoles arms. Two hearts beat as one. A few more months, and theyd never part again. What were months compared to years of longing?
