Call the Midwife What I like in a man: not showing desperate – though that’s what he was. Old enough to know better, saying most of it with his eyes. So I dropped the turkey- for-one and the telly and followed him to the outskirts, a closed-down Homebase he’d forced the locks of, past joinery and plumbing till we found her on all fours in sheds. It was only a matter of time before security showed then blue-lit us across town to some kind of safety, a ward I used to know from before supplies ran out and prices rocketed. Of course, they vanished. Ran, more like it. There’s fear, and there’s fear, if you catch me. Something about papers, the border. Those eyes. Her silence. The baby anything but.
Sending all my readers a very happy Christmas and a peace-filled new year. I look forward to seeing you here again soon, Anthony.