Not the Maternal Type

Marina put the finishing touches to her flawless face and thought about the meeting later that day. Only six months into the job and promotion was on the line; it was important to look good.

Thank God Jack was no longer around to criticise her. What did he know anyway? She was still a woman, even if she had no interest in children. This job was her life, fulfilling her as nothing before had managed to do; motherhood had never been in her plans.

At last she could concentrate on a career. Forget about that maternal nonsense. Yes, life was so much better since he’d left. She walked to the cupboard and removed her coat.

“Come on,” she snapped. “Don’t dawdle; I’m going to be late.”

Silently the child picked up her teddy, daddy’s parting gift, and took her place on the duvet laid out inside the dark space under the stairs. She turned her face to the wall and waited for the door to close.

Marina locked the door and smiled, looking forward to the meeting. If she got her promotion she’d think about arranging some childcare while she worked. But, in the meantime, this was working out well.