Unfortunately, Heather's prayers were not answered; the next morning, Iseult came running into the study after breakfast, her face a picture of distress. "She's pregnant!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "They ran a test last night, and it's come back positive."
Heather swore as she cradled her sobbing daughter in her arms. Her worst fears had become realised, and Heather wished there was something she could do to stop Saraid becoming a serious bone of contention between her mother and her rapist's mother. Short of actively adopting the girl herself, her hands were tied, and neither Sophia or Nora would let their prize go.
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Saraid was a picture of pure misery when Jamie and Iseult collected her from the hospital two days later. Though physically she was on the mend, her eyes were dead, as if the soul inside had given up on life, and Iseult's heart ached as she held her friend's hand. It was no use hoping she knew nothing of her condition; her eyes told the story, and Iseult wanted to smash Nora's son across his ugly, stupid face. "You can abort it," she said desperately. "You don't have to carry the child."
"Mam's already told me she'll kill me if I do that," Saraid said dully. "She won't let me abort the baby, and she'll make me raise. She says it's no less than I deserve for being so stupid."
"You were raped," Iseult said incredulously. "Does she not care?"
Saraid shook her head. "She says it's not rape," she said. "She says I was a 'willing participant', and that I didn't say no at the start."92Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVJZKDKOugS
Jamie grunted from the driver's seat. "You can be willing at the start, and not willing during the act of," he said. "And I was taught by my mam that if the girl didn't look happy in the middle of, even if she didn't say so, then I was to stop immediately and ask her if she wanted to continue. Your rapist didn't stop, even though you clearly didn't look happy, and that, to me, is rape."
"Mam says I wasn't fighting him," Saraid said. "That's why she's not letting me call it rape. She says she'll belt me across the face every time I call it rape, and I'm not allowed to talk about it to anyone."
"Bullshit," Iseult swore. "Sorry," she added hastily to her father. Heather and Jamie didn't generally swear, believing there were better, more articulate ways to express one's frustration, and Iseult tried to follow their example as best she could.
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Jamie said, giving his daughter a lopsided smile in the rear-view mirror. "I'd have used stronger language, but there are two very lovely ladies present, and your mam would belt me across the backside if she caught me swearing in front of ladies. But seriously, Iseult's right," he added to the distraught girl next to his daughter. "That's the biggest load of bull fertiliser I've heard in my life, and I've heard plently. You have every right to talk about what happened, and if your mam is willing to beat you into silence, well... never let it be said that Jamie Murray turned his back on a woman in need. If you wish it, we'll set you up in our house, and if your mam raises hell, we'll raise our own kind of hell."
Saraid shook her head. "No," she said in a small voice. "I'd love to, but Mam won't let me go."
"You're sixteen," Iseult reminded her friend. "Technically, you can do a lot of things without your mam's permission. If you want to come bunk with us, then you can bunk with us and your mam can f.... uh, she can go take a running jump at herself."92Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgUrXoCVtbc
Jamie chuckled. "Nice catch," he told his daughter. "But yes, your mam can go take a running jump at herself if she thinks she'll keep you prisoner in your own home."
But Saraid refused to be cheered up at the prospect of getting away from her mother, and as the car rolled towards home, Iseult felt a sick sensation in the pit of her stomach, a sensation that warned her the worst was yet to come.
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