When he couldn't sleep he would sit in his daughters room, just looking at her in silence. Sometimes when he came home, sometimes in the middle of the night. Sometimes he thought about what it would be if he would have been a woman. Could he have married Maltravers then? Would they even have met? Probably not. Maybe they could have lived together anyway, maybe they could have adopted from an orphanage. He had decided that he liked children, but not babies, they where far to noisy and annoying. He liked Anne. When he got to hold her, he would feel his heart beat. He knew it wasn't his, but he couldn't help but to love it either way, she was so little, and she seemed to love his moustache. She laughed and her second word, after mom, was papa. Something that he bragged about at work. She started to sit up, earlier and later than all the other children, and Blenkinsop's favorite thing to do when he was not working, was to sit on the floor, playing with her, her laughter was medicine for the heart. He loved her dearly. Until she screamed, then Blenkinsop felt helpless and handed over her to Helen, who would do what she did best. (he later regretted that they never got more children, Helen was the perfect mother, but maybe that was because they only had one?)
When George didn't show up at the baptism Albert nearly cried. He had not heard from him since that dinner and wondered if George didn't like the idea of him having children. Maybe they had promised each other something forever ago. No, it must be something else, because his Maltravers never held grudges about anything. He tried not to think about it and just talked about how proud he was with a lot of people, smoked and smiled at Helen who was relieved that she didn't have to take care of Anne, and that her sister was handing out all the sandwiches. And then the doorbell rang. Blenkinsop let someone else open the door and continued talking to some person he apparently worked with. He was going to write a letter to Maltravers he thought, a very friendly letter. Because someone was probably reading all their post. Or not, but one could not take that risk. Or was he just getting very paranoid? ”Oh Bertie, come here dear!” his wife called. ”I'm comming dear, excuse me, fine fellow, but I need to...” he smiled and just left, walked back to his wife and was drawn into yet another silly conversation about babies.
Re: Unprompted: Blenkinsop/Maltravers - They Owe Us A Life 13c/20
Probably not.
Maybe they could have lived together anyway, maybe they could have adopted from an orphanage. He had decided that he liked children, but not babies, they where far to noisy and annoying. He liked Anne.
When he got to hold her, he would feel his heart beat. He knew it wasn't his, but he couldn't help but to love it either way, she was so little, and she seemed to love his moustache. She laughed and her second word, after mom, was papa. Something that he bragged about at work.
She started to sit up, earlier and later than all the other children, and Blenkinsop's favorite thing to do when he was not working, was to sit on the floor, playing with her, her laughter was medicine for the heart. He loved her dearly. Until she screamed, then Blenkinsop felt helpless and handed over her to Helen, who would do what she did best. (he later regretted that they never got more children, Helen was the perfect mother, but maybe that was because they only had one?)
When George didn't show up at the baptism Albert nearly cried. He had not heard from him since that dinner and wondered if George didn't like the idea of him having children. Maybe they had promised each other something forever ago.
No, it must be something else, because his Maltravers never held grudges about anything. He tried not to think about it and just talked about how proud he was with a lot of people, smoked and smiled at Helen who was relieved that she didn't have to take care of Anne, and that her sister was handing out all the sandwiches. And then the doorbell rang. Blenkinsop let someone else open the door and continued talking to some person he apparently worked with. He was going to write a letter to Maltravers he thought, a very friendly letter. Because someone was probably reading all their post. Or not, but one could not take that risk. Or was he just getting very paranoid?
”Oh Bertie, come here dear!” his wife called.
”I'm comming dear, excuse me, fine fellow, but I need to...” he smiled and just left, walked back to his wife and was drawn into yet another silly conversation about babies.