Read The Angel Tree for Free Online Page B

of
Woman
and flicked through the pages. She found herself looking at a knitting pattern for a baby’s matinée jacket and
abruptly closed the magazine. She sank back into the armchair and stared at the ceiling, her heart pounding against her chest.
    A few minutes later, she heard someone moaning softly from a room nearby. She swallowed hard as the man came back into the front room and shut the door.
    ‘Now, miss, what can I do for you?’
    It was a silly question, and they both knew it. The moaning was still audible, despite the closed door. Greta’s nerves were in shreds.
    ‘Doris says you maybe could sort out my . . . er, problem.’
    ‘Perhaps.’ The man stared at her intently, his fingers moving to his head and smoothing the few greasy brown strands that covered his bald patch. ‘How far gone are
you?’
    ‘About eight weeks, I think.’
    ‘That’s good, good.’ The man nodded.
    ‘How much will it cost, please?’
    ‘Well, I normally charge three guineas but, seeing as you’re a friend of Doris, I’ll do it for two.’
    Greta dug her nails into the armchair and nodded her acceptance.
    ‘Good. Well, if you care to hang on for half an hour or so, I could fit you in immediately. No time like the present, is there?’ he said with a shrug.
    ‘Will I be able to go to work tomorrow?’
    ‘That depends on how things go. Some girls bleed a lot, others hardly at all.’
    There was a knock at the door and a dour-looking woman poked her head around it. Ignoring Greta, she beckoned the man with her finger.
    ‘Excuse me, I have to go and check on my patient.’ He stood up and abruptly left the room.
    Greta put her head in her hands.
Some girls bleed a lot, others hardly at all . . .
    She stood up, stumbled out of the grim front room and ran along the hall to open the front door. She slid back the rusty bolt, turned the latch and opened it.
    ‘Miss, miss! Where are you goi—’
    Greta slammed the door behind her and fled away up the street, tears blurring her vision.
    That night, after the show, Doris sidled up to her.
    ‘Did you see him?’
    Greta nodded.
    ‘When are you . . . you know?’
    ‘I . . . some time next week.’
    Doris patted her on the shoulder. ‘You’ll be fine, dear, honest you will.’
    Greta sat without moving until the other girls had left the dressing room. Once the room was empty, she laid her head on the table and wept. The sound of the unseen woman she’d heard
moaning had haunted her since she’d left the miserable house. And even though she knew she was sentencing herself to dreadful uncertainty, she knew she couldn’t go through with an
abortion.
    Greta didn’t hear the soft tap-tap on the dressing-room door and jumped violently when a hand was laid on her shoulder.
    ‘Hey! Steady on, it’s only me, Taffy. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just checking to see that you’d all left. What’s wrong, Greta?’
    She looked up at Taffy’s kind face watching her sympathetically in the mirror and searched for something to wipe her running nose. She was touched by his concern, especially since she knew
she’d hardly given him a backward glance since she’d met Max. A spotlessly clean checked handkerchief was passed to her.
    ‘There you go. Would you like me to leave?’ He hovered behind her.
    ‘Yes, er, no . . . oh, Taffy . . .’ she sobbed miserably. ‘I’m in such trouble!’
    ‘Then why don’t you tell me about it? It’ll make you feel better, whatever it is.’
    Greta turned to face him, shaking her head. ‘I don’t deserve sympathy,’ she whimpered.
    ‘Now you’re being silly. Come here and let me give you a hug.’ His strong arms closed around Greta’s shoulders, and he held her until her sobs were little more than
hiccups. Then he began to wipe away her tear-streaked make-up. ‘We are in a state, aren’t we? Well, as my old nanny used to say, nothing’s ever as bad as it seems.’
    Greta pulled away from him, suddenly uncomfortable. ‘I’m