Chapter 10: Petty Cash

By eight in the morning Birdie's fever had broken.

She slept with her mouth open and her hand around the rabbit's ear, and the nurse told me the numbers were better.

I went out into the hall because I could not sit still.

Laurence was at the window at the end of it with his coat over his arm.

He had not gone home.

Imogen had left two hours ago with her two men and her folder.

Before she went she had said, softly, in front of the nurses' desk, "I only wanted what was best for her, Ciara. I hope someday you'll see that."

I had not answered.

Laurence turned when I came up beside him.

*She's slept an hour. She's still beautiful when she's tired. Don't say it.*

"Don't," I said.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

His mouth moved, almost a smile, and it died.

I had the baby book under my arm.

I had brought it with me from Maureen's, and I had not let go of it since.

I held it out.

"Open the back pocket."

He took it carefully.

His fingers found the thin white envelope behind the footprint card.

"This is it," he said.

"This is what she gave me. Six years ago, in her car."

He turned it over.

It was creased and stained and light as a letter.

He drew the torn paper strap off the middle, and he held it to the window.

"I couldn't read the stamp," I said. "It's old. It bled."

He read it in one second.

I watched his face go through it.

"It's a treasury band," Laurence said slowly. "The kind my cash office uses on a bundle. It says SG TREASURY, PETTY CASH."

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