Emma's Baby Read Free Page B

handles in her grasp. She took off at a brisk pace, steering Ritchie towards the stairs. Emma had nothing to do but follow them, empty-handed. The platform was open at both ends; a chill breeze blew over their heads. Emma's knees stung beneath her jeans. It felt strange to have nothing to carry, no Ritchie, no bag.
She felt out of control. Vulnerable. She would have preferred to carry Rich, to take him out of the buggy and hold him, but Antonia had been so kind, it would be rude to wake him up. She settled for watching him as they walked. My God, my God.
    She helped Antonia to lift the buggy up the stairs.
At the turnstile, Antonia turned to her and said,
'You've lost your ticket, haven't you? You'll need to report your missing bag to the guard. Ask him to let you through.'
    Emma hesitated.
    'Go on.' Antonia gave her an encouraging smile.
'Don't worry about Ritchie and me. We'll wait for you at the entrance.'
    Wanting to hurry, Emma didn't mention anything to the cheerful, orange-jacketed guard about Ritchie getting caught on the train. She just said that she'd lost her bag at the previous station, Stepney Green, and asked if anyone had handed it in. The guard went into a room at the side to use the phone. Emma glanced through the turnstiles, towards the entrance to the station. It was dark now, outside. Raining, it looked like. The pavements were shiny with light. A couple of people stood inside the doors, sheltering from the rain, or queuing for the little newspaper and sweet kiosk at the side. More people pushed through the barriers: a man wearing a woollen hat, a woman in a hijab, holding the hand of a little girl. Then they were gone, and there were just their footsteps on the wet floor. Emma looked again at the entrance. Then she froze. She took a jerky half-step towards the barrier.
    Where had Antonia gone?
    She saw her then, just beside the kiosk. She was kneeling by Ritchie's buggy, adjusting the zip of his fleece; that must be why she'd missed her at first.
Emma let out a shaky breath. It just went to show how jumpy she was. Ritchie was asleep. She watched him hungrily. His head was on his chest, making him look as if he had three chins. His wispy hair was brushed straight down on his forehead. The smiley blue elephant on his front moved up and down as he breathed. Antonia looked up just then and saw Emma watching. She gave a little wave.
    The guard came back.
    'No bag, I'm afraid,' he said. 'There's a number for
Lost Property if you—'
    'It's OK.' Emma was anxious to be back with
Ritchie. She gestured to the barrier. 'Is it all right if I go on through? My ticket was in my bag.'
    The guard was in a good mood. He tipped his hand to his forehead and released the turnstile for her. Once through it, Emma headed straight for Ritchie. She reached for the handles of the pushchair and instead found Antonia pressing a twenty-pound note into her hand.
    'You must take it,' Antonia insisted as Emma began to protest. 'There's a café open down that way, look.'
She pointed down a side street to where some lettering on an illuminated window read, 'Mr Bap's'.
    'We'll go there to wait for my husband,' Antonia said. 'You can buy the coffees. You might want to get something for Ritchie too, and I wouldn't know what to buy.'
    'I . . . Oh, OK.' Emma gave in. Antonia had a point.
Ritchie would be hungry soon. She'd buy something for him to eat, but as soon as she was at the table she'd wake him up and take him on to her knee and have him back to herself again.
    Mr Bap's turned out to be more of a fast-food restaurant than a café. Inside, the damp air of the street gave way to a strong smell of vinegar and chips.
Rows of brown plastic tables and benches took up the front half of the restaurant. Most of the tables were in need of a wipe. At the back of the shop was the counter, lined with giant bottles of brown sauce and mustard. The only other customer, an elderly, bearded man with a beige jacket zipped up to his neck, sat at a table by