The hospital window overlooked a tin-roofed porch. Outside, the autumn rain lashed downsharp, cold, and relentless, drumming against the metal like a spiteful percussion.
Marina woke to the noise, lying still as she took stock of herself. Shed just had surgerya cyst removed, along with an ovary. Age, perhaps? Though the ward held women of all ages. A dull light seeped from the half-open corridor door. The air smelled of antiseptic and valerian.
Then, beneath the rains metallic clamour, she heard a whimper. She listenednothing. Then it came again.
Marina sat up, immediately guessing it was the sixteen-year-old girl across the ward. She knew her storycomplications from a backstreet abortion. A knitting needle, of all things. An old trick…
She shuffled over, perching on the empty bed opposite. The girl was curled up, only sharp knees and tangled hair visible. Marina tugged a blanket from the vacant bed and draped it over her.
The girl peeked out, wiping her nose childishly with her hand. Shed only been operated on that dayfive hours under the knife. The cleaner had whispered: abscess. Theyd taken her womb.
“Does it hurt?” Marina asked, raising her voice over the rain.
The girl shook her head.
“Need anything? Thirsty?”
“…Maybe.”
Marina fetched her thermos, pouring lukewarm, sugary tea. “Here. Sit up a bit.” She helped prop the girl up.
“Thanks,” the girl mumbled, taking a sip.
“Dont cry. Whats done is done.”
The lecture perched on Marinas tongue*What were you thinking, you silly girl? Ruined your life, thrown away motherhood, nearly killed yourself!* But now wasnt the time. The girl was already drowninganaesthesia fading, reality setting in.
“Im nobodys,” the girl sighed.
“Rubbish. Your family needs you. Your mum. Whyd you say that?”
“*He* doesnt need me. Hes not even thinking about me.”
“Oh, so *thats* why youre crying? Find better sorrows, love. Right now, you focus on getting better.”
“I dont *want* to. Maybe I wanna die. I cant live without him. I *love* him” Her face twisted, lips blue with cold, and she turned away, sobbing again.
The rain answered, hammering the roof in uneven bursts. Marina rested a hand on her shoulder and said nothing. What *could* you say?
That teenage love was just infatuation? That if hed loved her, this wouldnt have happened? That he was a coward, a rat, for knowing and doing nothing?
Would she even believe it?
“Tell me,” Marina said instead.
And the girl didhalting, skipping details, justifying herself to the world. Theyd met at athletics club. He was from the next village over, handsome, a promising runner. All the girls fancied him. She never dreamed hed pick *her*. But he did.
That summer, theyd travelled for a competition, staying at a local school. Girls in one classroom, boys in another.
It happened in an empty classroom. Theyd even lit a candle. Dream come truehe chose *her*. How could she say no?
“He *said* he was careful. I remember. Then he kissed me after. It was perfect. Youve no idea.”
“I can imagine. Then?”
“Then he wanted to again, right before we left. But the coach walked past, so we hid under a desk. We *laughed*…” She smiled faintly. “It was brilliant. But nothing happened then.”
“And after?”
“After… I dont know. He changed. Our training schedules clashed, so I went when *he* was thereand he acted like he didnt know me. Pulled his hand away. Then the girls said he was with *Kirsty*” A tear rolled down her greyish cheek.
“He knew about the baby?”
A nod.
“And?”
“He tapped his head like I was mad. Then I went to his *house* weeks laterknew for sure then. He *panicked*, shouted at me. But I *love* him, dont you see? I dont *want* anyone else!” She buried her face in the blanket, shoulders shaking. “I sterilised the needle with vodka. I didnt *know* itd be like this”
The childlike simplicity of it sat like a stone in Marinas chest.
She was just a *kid*. Didnt grasp what shed done. Crying over lost love, not lost motherhood. And the story wasnt even originaljust another girl in love with a heartless boy.
“Whats your name?”
“Lucy. Lucy Dawson.”
“Dawson? Youre not from Blackwood?”
A nod.
“Your dadnot *Dave*, is he?”
Her eyes widened. “Yeah, buthe and Mum split ages ago. *Please* dont tell her! She thinks Im at a friends in Millfield!”
“She doesnt *know*? Good grief!”
Dave Dawson had been in Marinas class. She remembered his wife, Annatiny, sharp-nosed, a year or two below them.
“Lucy, your mum *has* to be told.”
“No! Shell *kill* me! Kick me out! *Dont!*”
“I wont. Try to sleep, love.”
Lucy obeyed, tucking her hands under her cheek like a child. Marina tucked the blanket tighter and returned to her bed. The others had surely heard.
The doctors would call Anna. Maybe already had. But no need to say that.
Outside, the rain eased. Dawn smudged the sky.
What a waste. A girl losing her greatest joymotherhoodbefore shed even known it.
Morning brought Anna, weeping at her daughters bedside. “Why? *Why?* My baby… How did I *miss* this…?”
Marina pulled the covers over her head.
The rain dripped its last, as if to say: *Whats done cant be undone. Only whats left matters.*
Years passed. Marina, a primary school teacher now, forgot the incidentuntil her nephew, Jack, announced his engagement.
At the family gathering, her sister gushed: “Lovely girl! Lucy Dawsonremember Anna and Dave?”
Marina froze. Jam dripped from her toast.
*That* Lucy.
She said nothing then. But later, she confronted Lucys mother.
“Anna, Jacks like a son to me. My sister wants grandkids. *Our* familys happiness matters too.”
Anna nodded, pouring tea. “Ive told Lucy she must be honest. But Jack *forbade* it.”
“He *knows*?”
“Yes. I spoke to him. Why condemn yourself? I said. But theyre *in love*.”
Marina left, fists clenched.
At home, Jack faced her.
“Aunt Marina, thanks for not telling Mum.”
“Oh, I *will*. But firstthink! No kids, ever. Your mum dreams of grandbabies. Is *this* what you want?”
“If I love her?”
“*Love?* Youll regret it!”
He hugged her. “Were marrying anyway. Please dont tell them yet.”
She didnt.
But Lucy, overwhelmed, overdosed.
At the hospital, Jack blocked Marinas path.
“Dont. She cant see you.”
“Did I *cause* this?”
“Figure it out.”
She left in tears.
The wedding went ahead. Lucy, pale but radiant, seemed to shrink at every mention of children.
Two years later, Marina worked with child services. One day, she visited Jack and Lucy.
“Theres a girl in care. Brilliant kid. No parents…”
They exchanged a glancethen nodded.
*Some stories dont end. They just change shape.*
