Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

"Yes. So you see, he has no right to fire you and condemn you. He has plenty to hide and be ashamed of himself. You've got to stand up to him, not that working for the Endfields is any picnic," I added. She kept shaking her head. "You shouldn't be made to leave now anyway. You're not showing at all, as far as I can tell, and even when you do..."

"No, I can never go back there," she blurted. "Please."

"Why not?"

"Now here's a cup of tea for you both," her mother said, coming through the doorway. She held out the cups and saucers.

"Mum, I said no," Mary Margaret told her. Her mother stood there, arms extended.

I went to her quickly and took the cups.

"Thank you," I said and handed one to Mary Margaret. "Drink it. You'll feel better after a cup of tea."

She almost smiled.

"You sound like an English girl now," she said.

"It's catching."

She nodded and took a deep breath. Then she looked up at her mother who still stood there looking concerned.

"Go sit by your radio, Mum. Stop worrying about me,"

Mary Margaret told her mother. "I'll be all right. I swear."

"Okay, dearie, ' her mother said with a smile. "Call me if you need anything."

"What does she think is wrong with you?" I asked as soon as she was gone from the room.

"She thinks I just have a bad time of the month." "What are you going to do, Mary Margaret?" I asked her. She sipped her tea and then shook her head.

"It'll be fine now," she said. "There's nothing to do."

"Why will it be fine? You've got a mother who's legally blind, you don't have a job and you're pregnant and not married; from the way you're talking, the man, whoever he is, won't be doing much to help you," I catalogued.

"He will," she said. After a moment she sipped her tea and then added, "He wants the baby, too."

"Then why doesn't he just marry you?" I asked. She looked down at her cup. "He's married already, right?" She nodded. "Where did you meet him?" "In his home," she said.

"In his home? A married man invited you to his house and you went?"

"I had to go," she said.

"Had to go? Why?"

She looked-up at me. Her eyes told it all. I was the one who started to shake her head now. Now I was the one looking to deny the truth even when it slapped me in the face.

"What are you saying?"

"Please, just go and forget about it. Please."

"It's Mr. Endfield," I said, the weight on my chest making it almost impossible to get the words out. "He's the father of your child, isn't he?"

"Just go," she pleaded, putting the cup of tea on the nightstand. "Please, don't make any trouble for me."

"Trouble has already been made for you," I said. "I don't understand. He had you dress as his little girl. Surely when you were pretending to be her, he wouldn't...he couldn't..."

"I wasn't only dressed as his little girl," she said, the tears streaming down her cheeks and dropping from her chin now. "He had other things for me to wear, things them dancers in those clubs wear," she confessed.