In the night she woke up, yes, it seems her boy was not quite as sleepy as she was.
"I'm tired, you know"
"OK - I'll try to keep awake a bit"
And she went on talking to the boy inside her.
"Yes, it's dark ..."
And, no, she didn't physically hear him answer, but she could imagine.
Anyway, ten minutes or twenty minutes or an hour or so later, she slept again.
In the morning, she tried to find the chamber pot - and couldn't. She walked across some planks set across the beams for some while, with a lit candle where there was no day light coming in.
In some places, there were just beams and some plaster between them, she was careful to go from one beam to another and set no foot on the plaster.
She then found - to the right - a door. As you may know, this was the studio of uncle Andrew. She turned the latch and went in to a room with a window, and with an armchair.
As she looked at the armchair, she heard someone yawn and ask "it's you isn't it?"
"How do you mean 'me'?"
"The girl who's pregnant, police are looking for you so you can abort, everyone's concerned because your house doctor got on radio and said you had a condition which made it ten times as dangerous for you than for any other girl of fourteen to have a child, and you have been kidnapped by evil cultists who want to force you to ..."
"The evil cultists - as you say - who want to force me to abort didn't manage to get me to the appointment ... thanks to Miss Pevensie, the teacher of my gym class."
"Oh, but didn't you know," the snarky voice went on, as someone rose from the armchair, "Miss Pevensie is an evil cultist!"
A boy not much older than herself, like 14 and fairly good looking - she added half and half "for a Gipsy" because he was a bit darker than a Traveller usually is - laughed.
"So am I."
She waited, somewhat bemused.
"I don't want you to abort either!"
"Thank you."
"Not even if you die. Women should die rather than abort."
"I don't think I would die, but I don't think I agree either ..."
"Well, too bad ... by the way, sorry I forgot your chamber pot, just came over this morning and slept in the chair"
Speaking of chamber pot ...
"Oh, here it is, you go out ... no, I go out, and you do what you need"
And he was out - and did she need that!
Someone should write a poem about getting to a toilet when you need one ... and yes, there was toilet paper.
"You are watching!" she cried out!
"Shsh! They can hear you!"
When she had downed the skirts, he came back in.
"Sure you mean women should die rather than abort?"
"Ma did. That's why I am alive. My cousin and her husband raised me for her, while my dad was in prison. And continued after he came out."
"What's your name? I'm Rose ... and what's your mother's name?"
"I'm Bobby. And ma who died was Lobby - as in Lobelia."
