Chapter Text
Elizabeth Watson meandered through the aisles, left hand on her round belly, right clasping a shopping basket. Her grey eyes flicked from brand to brand, wondering which pickled turnips would satisfy her cravings the best. Irritated and sore, she'd been perusing the store for much too long, picky about crisps and fruit. Fortunately, her husband decided to stay in and watch the game, so she had a bit of freedom in shopping for groceries.
She shuffled her weary feet against the linoleum and hummed along to the overplayed 70's pop that echoed, static and basic, through the store. The music faded as she reached out for a jar, another song coming in right on top of it.
"Oh, not this one!" She laughed to herself, throwing her head back.
"A bit outdated, isn't it?" A pleasant, warm voice beside her chimed.
Looking towards it, the soon-to-be mother found that the voice belonged to a stunning woman with high cheekbones and startling blue eyes. The woman smiled kindly and flicked a brunette curl from her cheek.
"Last time I heard this song was when I was just recently out of school. Everyone always joked around, singing along poorly, no matter when it came on."
The woman holding the pickled turnips hummed, "My brother played it at my wedding. Everyone groaned but danced wildly just the same."
Something in the woman's face went soft as she turned her body towards Elizabeth and reached out her hand. "Victoria," she offered. Her eyes dropped to Elizabeth's stomach. "When are you due?"
It then hit Mrs Watson that Victoria was pregnant as well, round belly stretching her purple blouse. After placing the turnips in her basket, Elizabeth rose her eyes back to the woman's face and shook her hand. It was thin and delicate, a sparkling diamond ring on her left hand. "Late March, early April. You?"
"June."
"Ah," Elizabeth crossed her ankles. "A summer baby. That'll be nice."
"Mm, yes. Myc was born in October, so he's more glad than me. Won't have to share his birthday month." Victoria traced a finger over a row of pickled peppers as she said, "This one your first?"
Elizabeth was quite taken with this woman's forward but gentle nature. It was a welcome change in comparison to the skepticism her friends and relatives gave her.
"Yes." She tried not to sound nervous.
"You'll be fine. You have strong hips."
The blonde chuckled timidly. She looked away, if not for the intensity of Victoria's stare then for the brashness of her observations.
Victoria spoke again, "It's not so bad." She leaned in, as if to tell a secret, "Not as gruesome as the movies make it. Just feels like you've got to use the loo."
"Well," Elizabeth breathed, "That's a relief. Unless you're lying."
Feeding off the teasing energy, the woman raised her hands defensively, "I'm not! What could I possibly gain from that?"
Shrugging, Elizabeth felt herself smile again. It was nice, how easy it was to talk to her, and they'd only just met. There was a comfortable moment of silence as they scuffled about the aisle. Elizabeth watched at how gracefully the woman moved, placing a few jars in her own basket with a jingle of her silver bracelets. Realizing she hadn't introduced herself, the younger woman broke the silence. "I'm Elizabeth, by the way. Sorry. ...You craving pickled vegetables as well?"
"Oh no, I want chocolate. My son, Mycroft, likes pickled peppers. He's a strange one." She said the last bit with a fond smile, and Elizabeth could tell that she loved her son very much.
"How old is he?"
"Eight. Don't know how he'll react when this one comes," she placed a hand on her stomach and beamed as mothers often do. "He's smart, so I know he'll take care of the baby, but he has a tendency to pout when he's not given enough attention."
"Sounds like my husband."
Victoria chuckled. "You guys live in the area? I haven't seen you, and I know absolutely everyone around here."
The store loudspeaker crackled about a spill in aisle six as Elizabeth shuffled again and said, "George and I are looking for a house now. Can't live in an apartment anymore. Was told this might be a nice place."
"Oh, it is!" Victoria's eyes lit up, "The Fens are a great place to raise a child, especially if you want to get away from the city. It's all natural and heavy in agriculture. The towns are nice, and there's plenty of open space for the kids to play. We have our own property with a small clearing behind the house. What type of place are you thinking of?"
"Just something bigger. Not too expensive, I mean…"
The brunette swallowed awkwardly. Her pampered curls and pretty bracelets didn't match Elizabeth's undone hair and pajama pants, although anyone carrying a child would opt for comfort instead of style. Victoria was perceptive, though, and had figured that Elizabeth might not be as well off as herself. That didn't stifle her kindness, however. "Of course. You know, there's a house that's being sold in my neighborhood, and it might be a good fit. Not assuming anything, obviously, but it's a thought."
The women, seemingly content with their selections, unconsciously began walking together as Elizabeth Watson contemplated the proposal. "You think it could work?"
"I think so. It's a nice, quiet neighborhood and there's a school within walking distance."
"That sounds lovely. I'll talk to my husband, thank you." Elizabeth looked about the store as they walked.
Something resembling complete support and kindness between them went unsaid. Victoria did not need to speak to her as she shopped, and she especially did not have to assure her of impending motherhood or offer her a place to move in. But she did, and Elizabeth was so relieved for any extra help she could get. She was a bit young to be starting a family, so any older mother with kind eyes was a Godsend. Elizabeth felt safe around her, as silly as that was. The woman's slender face beamed with acceptance and love, instead of the snotty condescension someone with that much beauty could potentially wield.
Elizabeth thought all this to herself, of course, as they exited the aisle and moved onto another. The shelves were packed with pasta and other instant meals of various colors, and Elizabeth wondered if she should come back and pick one up for dinner.
She probably would, but she had a question first. "Victoria," she said. "If this is Wisbech, what's the Fens?"
Raising her chin to answer, the other mother looked out one of the store windows and into the street. "They call this area, the district, the Fens. Or the Fenlands. Wisbech is the town, second largest town in Cambridgeshire, which is part of the region of East Anglia. I can see how it'd be confusing. Where have you come from?"
"Brent. It's been quite a journey. My brother in law recommended this area, he said it'd be a change from the city, but we got a bit lost in direction. We're staying in a motel at the moment." The more she talked about it, Elizabeth found, the sadder it sounded. She wanted a home, somewhere to settle down.
"Well, come check out the house in my neighborhood. It'd be nice to have a new mother around, and who knows, maybe the little ones can be friends." She said it with such certainty and tenderness that Mrs Watson already felt it to be true.
"Maybe so," she replied, looking down at her stomach.
Elizabeth Watson knew that she'd do anything to make life for her child as pleasant as she could. With her husband's temper and their lack of wealth, she worried the baby might not get every opportunity to be happy. Fortunately, the woman she'd just met turned her kind eyes and soft voice towards her and assured her that really, it wouldn't be so bad. Victoria had made her feel more welcome to the realm of motherhood than any of her other friends, and only in a bit of small talk.
Perhaps, Mrs Watson thought, serious good could come from this strange supermarket interaction. Victoria was kind and helpful, and Elizabeth had already placed her trust in her. She'd been offered the perfect place to settle, and if it worked out, her child would grow up in a small town in rural England with a neighbor his or her age to befriend. Elizabeth hoped it'd work. It was a nice thought.