Lucy Wood - The Sing of the Shore

His breathing was fast and shallow. He held the baby tight and she pressed into his neck. ‘Da?’ she said.

There was no sound except for a rook cawing from a wet branch.

The house next door was in front of him. The door was half-open. Jay walked over to it slowly. He went up the step.

The rubble was still there. It was wet and bits of plaster had spread over the ground like snow. He pushed the door slowly and it swung inwards. It was quiet in there. There were no shoes by the door, no coats on the hooks. The hallway was long and dark. He turned and looked back towards where Lorna would be working. He imagined her at a desk, by a computer, listening.

He thought of how he would tell her.

He suddenly remembered the phrase they used to say to each other.

The phone rang. He held the baby tight. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

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