“The child when she imagined it was a tiny elflike thing, her spirit companion, playful, laughing, looking at her with dark eyes full of knowingness. But she realized there was an intermediate phase before knowingness was possible, and that was a kind of blank to her. She couldn’t think what you would do with a baby all day. That autumn when she was pregnant she was working three afternoons a week in a shop across the road from the entrance to the maternity hospital. She wasn’t very busy. It was... a shop that sold handbags and luggage, and the customers were occasional and took a long time choosing. So she was often looking out of the windows across at the hospital when one of the new mothers came out and got into her husband’s car to be driven home for the first time. The mother would be followed by a nurse, ceremonially carrying the baby wrapped in a bundle of white shawls; the nurse would hand it to the mother when she was safely in the passenger seat. If Zoe tried to convince herself that she would one day soon have a bundle of white shawls of her own, what she pictured wrapped up inside it was something like a mouse or a kitten, something soft and mewling and tender, but remote.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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