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I stop for a moment, holding my breath. Much to my relief, the carriage leaves the narrow main road after a few more yards and turns to the right. Now I can see it, not far away - a brightly illuminated window on the ground floor of a big house. It is one of those early Georgian houses you still find in Edinburgh, luxuriously appointed, light-grey, surrounded by an iron fence, which is over ten feet high. This is just to protect the house owners from the ordinary rabble. But this is not Edinburgh. I can feel it.The drizzle starts again, and I pull the hood of my long, black cape entirely over my head while I slowly approach the house. My heart is beating strongly as I reach the end of the cobblestone street. To the left and right, the narrow street continues. My shivering hands are clasping the iron fence as I look at the window, so bright - a promise of warmth. Then I see her, and my thoughts suddenly go back to the Highlands, as I watch her brushing her long, dark hair.My mind. Luckily, Marci Esther was right on time.CHAPTER 10We had tried out dozens of names, but there was only one thing I cared about—her middle name must be Esther after the woman who had become my mother—the woman who had saved my life—Paul’s mother, Esther Feinberg. Marci was Cindy’s idea and after running it through my head a few times I agreed. Marci Esther Hayden it would be.We were lying in bed early Tuesday morning two weeks later when Cindy grunted and grabbed her abdomen. I jumped out of bed and ran to my office to record the time. Cindy was seated on the toilet when I returned. I helped her to dress and recorded yet another contraction. There were four more before we decided to phone Dr. Kirkpatrick. She told us to relax until the contractions were fifteen minutes apart. I phoned Leia and left a voicemail—she had an early class. I spoke to Miriam and to Lou Ann and, an hour later phoned the doctor again. At Lou Ann’s suggestion I dropped Max at the police station with.
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