There is no doubt now, I am going to have Angus’ child. I cannot go home to my parents. I heard my Da go on about one of the village lasses back in Wick, how she had brought shame and sorrow to her family, and her father was quite right to disown her.
I finally told Heather today. She was shocked, but understanding. “I would go to the priest,” she said, “They are used to dealing with such things, and he will tell you where to go. There are places run by the nuns for sheltering unmarried mothers. For heaven’s sake do not tell them about your highland marriage! They believe that’s a heathen custom and will turn you away. But do it soon, before you start to show." I looked down at my stomach then, relieved to see it was still flat.
I am so grateful to Heather for her advice. She is a year older than me, and sensible. She is leaving Abbott House in September to marry her village lad. By then I’ll be away, somewhere. I will go to the priest my next full day, make confession and throw myself on the mercy of the Church. I am not a faithful Catholic, nor a regular at Mass these days, but I will do what I have to do to bring this child safely into the world. After all, this baby will also be the child of Angus Abbott, and I cannot wait until he returns from South Africa so we can be married in the Church, and we three can be a real family.
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