Emma's Baby (30 page)

Ritchie pointed at the ghostly shapes in the glass.

'Woo,' he said. 'Woo-ooo.'

At work on Friday, Susan said to Emma, 'What's this?
You're all dressed up.'

'I am not.'

'Yes, you are.' Susan came around the bar and put her hands on her hips. 'Definitely.' She looked Emma up and down. 'New top?'

'Haven't I worn this before?'

'No.'

'Oh, well.' Emma wiped a smudge of peanut dust off the bar top. Over the past few weeks, she and
Susan had become good mates. Susan had a little girl a year older than Ritchie who was in the Dolphins as well. Emma didn't know why she felt suddenly shy with her.

'A friend of mine is coming to visit today,' Emma said. 'After work.'

'A friend, eh?' Susan gave a knowing smile. 'Well, you look great.'

After work, Emma collected Ritchie from the
Dolphins. He came in from the garden at a funeral pace, his tongue sticking out, concentrating on a squashed yellow flower in his fist. He went to Emma and presented the flower to her. She took it from him, with difficulty, as the petals were stuck to his fingers.

'Ah.' Jess tilted her head. 'Isn't that sweet?'

'It's beautiful. Thank you.' Emma tried to kiss him, but he was busy wiping his hands on the front of his
T-shirt.

'Mess,' he said.

Emma put the mashed flower into her bag. She said to Ritchie, 'We'll go home along the cliff path.'

My last week in South America. My flight leaves from Lima on Tuesday. Right now, I'm in the Andes, and we've been trekking since dawn. We just got into this village an hour ago. The views are spectacular, but I can't appreciate them at the moment because I'm hot, and my feet are killing me, and the altitude is melting my brain.

And now here, in this tiny market square, miles from anywhere, I find this message from you.

It's great to hear from you, Emma. I'm really looking forward
to seeing you both.

The way home from the Dolphins took them up the hill. At the top of the hill, all that was left was the sea, sparkly in the distance, deep blue near the shore.
Shhwooo
it said as it came in, and there was a crackle as it slid back out again. They were on a cliff path with a wooden fence. Beyond the fence, twisty stone steps led down to the long, sandy beach. Further along the cliff, an old copper-mine tower, overgrown with creeper, stuck straight into the sky.

Ritchie ran ahead, holding a long, spiral shell. Then he stopped, pointing down the cliff path.

'Man,' he said.

There
was
a man, halfway down the path. Leaning on the part of the fence that ran outside their house.
A black rucksack lay at his feet, and his bright blue
T-shirt matched the sea. The man had seen them too.
He straightened, shading his eyes with his hand. Then he lifted his arm, fingers spread, a high, full-on salute.
Emma waved back. She felt the smile in her eyes, then her mouth, then all over, every part of her involved.
She waved again, standing on tiptoe to make sure he saw. The man came out to the middle of the path to wait. Emma's heart was beating faster. But of course, that would be the steepness of the path from the village. It was a very warm evening.

'Come on, Rich,' she said.

Ritchie had to sort his shell out first. He hunched down, carefully, to place it in the grass. The shell tipped a little; he steadied it in the grey curve of a rock. Then he stood up again and took Emma's hand.
Together, they walked on down the path.

THE END

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