Breeding Ground Read Free

gained. And some of the lumpy fat seemed to be covering that, too. Her dressing gown was on the floor beside her and I picked it up, gently putting it over her shoulders. I looked into her sad eyes in the mirror in front of us. God, I loved her.
    “Are you okay?”
    Keeping hold of the dressing gown, she turned away from me. “I’m tired. I think I’ll stay at home today.”
    “Good idea.” And I did think it was. She needed to rest, to eat some healthy food and get her energy back. This pregnancy was obviously more difficult than she was letting on, and at last there was something I thought I could do. I followed her into the bedroom.
    “Why don’t I stay with you? I could be your servant for the day. I’ll spoil you.”
    She kept her dressing gown on and pulled the covers almost over her head. Her voice was muffled. “You’ll be needed at work.”
    “I’m sure they won’t mind. Things are a bit quiet at
     
    13
     
    the moment, anyway.” That was an understatement. It seemed that there had been a citywide slump in the housing market. For whatever reason people had just stopped selling and buying over the past couple of months. Although I was planning to work from home once the baby was born, it was beginning to worry me that there wouldn’t be enough business out there to make it worthwhile. We’d agreed I’d be the house husband, but I had wanted something to do that would at least bring in some money. Male pride and all. Still, I consoled myself with the thought that these things never lasted. As soon as the good weather came it would be business as usual.
    “I’ll go and call them, shall I?”
    She yanked the covers down, her eyes raging at me. “Go to work, Matt, and stop fussing. I just want to be left alone!”
    Jolting backward a bit, not used to her being like that, I tried to touch her. “Look, babe…”
    “Fuck off, Matt.” Spitting the words at me, she buried herself back down into the bedding.
    I sat there for a few moments waiting for her to start crying or come out and say she was sorry, but there was nothing but cold silence. Eventually, my heart aching and confused, I got up and did the only thing I could. I went to work.
    The day passed slowly, with no business to speak of, just the odd follow-up call to clients. I spent most of the time staring at the small clock on my desk or watching the rain hitting the big glass front window. I didn’t feel like talking and neither did old Mr. Brown it would seem, so we pretty much sat quietly, pretending to be doing something on our computers, drinking coffee and waiting for the day to end. I thought about
     
    14
     
    calling her at lunchtime but left it. Maybe she’d be asleep. That’s what I told myself, but really I just didn’t want to hear her being angry again. I wasn’t sure I could take it. Whatever was wrong with her, it was taking its toll on me, too.
    At ten to five, I started shutting the system down and got my coat from the small kitchen at the back of the office. Mr. Brown was leaning against the draining board, holding a cup of coffee. It had a dark film on the surface, as if it had cooled untouched. How long had he been standing there? I’d been too lost in my own world to notice what he’d been up to.
    “I’m off home now, if that’s all right.”
    He looked up at me a little shocked, as if he’d only just realised I was in the room. “Oh. Right. Yes, of course, off you go.” He attempted a smile, but it only heightened the wrinkles on his face, new wrinkles, the kind you get when you’re tired; really, really tired.
    “I suppose you’ll be cooking something delicious for that lovely girlfriend of yours when she gets in. Tell her to take it easy. She should be relaxing in her condition.”
    I wondered if my own smile looked as awful as his. “She’s at home today. Not feeling herself.”
    He shook slightly, and put the cup down on the drainer. “Peggy’s not too well, either.”
    I pulled my coat on. There