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Every night I lie in bed, the brightest colours fill my head. A million dreams are keeping me awake.
NATASHA
June 14th, 1996
Positive.
Those two little blue lines, so simple, so plain. Yet they hold such a profound weight that I feel the need to take a moment to collect my thoughts. It does not do well for Natasha Pitch to come undone on account of two little blue lines. Still, I find myself sitting at my desk in my grand Watford Headmistress’ office, in absolute disbelief as I hold onto the pregnancy test in my hands.
Positive.
I had taken the test as soon as I suspected that something was off. I am like clockwork in every single aspect of my life. Never tardy, never irregular, never out of balance. So, when my monthly cycle skipped, I knew. I took the test (in between several Coven meetings at Watford - I am a very busy woman), and kept myself concealed in my ensuite lavatory (being Headmistress has its perks) as I waited for the results.
Positive.
I am pregnant.
Alright. That was easy to admit.
If I had to guess, I could not be more than a few weeks along, a month at best. I should probably go see a doctor at some point, to verify that I am indeed with child. But honestly there were never any truly good doctors for magicians. There was Charles Wellbelove, who was making quite a name for himself amongst the Coven. I was considering it. He would have to be extremely discreet about the nature of my visits. I could not afford the good news getting out until I was ready to announce it. While the birth of a potential heir to the Pitch estate was a happy occasion, there would be others who would try to use my pregnancy (as well as my new maternal role) as a means to steal influence and discredit me.
It was bloody nonsense.
Still, it would be prudent to keep the news a secret, for as long as possible. I shall obviously tell Malcolm as soon as possible. I had thought to maybe tell him that night. I am not the romantic sort, I honestly do not have time to be romantic. I will tell him in private, in our bedroom. Possibly in front of our fireplace, while holding his hands.
Fine, I suppose I am a little romantic.
I imagine Malcolm will be very happy with the news. We have been trying for a child for the last year, so Malcolm would be very much pleased with the good news. Personally, a part of me would have liked to wait a little bit more. I have been in the middle of several research projects, as well as revamping some of the programs offered at Watford. I had wanted to look into more classes involving music and poetry. I was hoping that the future generations of magicians could find a way to make musical magic more stable. I was also looking into offering more linguistics classes at Watford. There was still so much about the nature of our magic that we still did not know nor did we understand. Besides, deep down I, Natasha Pitch, am a scholar. I have always been that way. I can be the head of a dozen organizations and run everything and anything that the Coven needs me to, but at the end of the day, I live for reading and researching topics that deeply speak to me.
Maybe this little one will follow my passions as well. That would be nice, to have another scholar in the family.
I should probably tell Fiona, but my sister can barely keep a secret to save her life. I am starting to worry about my younger, more carefree sister. Fiona is not keeping the right sort of company and it worries me to no end. It is highly improper to trapeze about amongst the Normals, causing mayhem and anarchy wherever she goes. She will be graduating from Watford this year, and she needs to figure out what she wants to do with her life. She cannot spend the rest of her days living off the family’s money.
But, Fiona is a worry for another day. I will most likely tell her. She is my baby sister after all, and despite my worries and apprehension, it will be better if I share my news with her. I can already hear Fiona’s snarky comments and her suggestions that I name the child Bowie or Cyndi.
My sister is absurd.
My hand moves tentatively to my stomach. I am pregnant. It is still a little bit of a shock to me. I will never admit this to anybody, but the idea of carrying a tiny life is terrifying. Are Malcolm and I ready to bring this child into the world? Neither one of us has had very warm childhoods. That life is not something I want for my child. Will I know how to provide the comfort and security of a safe family life? I truly do not know.
I shake my head to rid myself of these negative thoughts. Pitches do not hide and second guess themselves. Pitches dive headfirst into adversity and fight. They fight until they cannot fight anymore. That was how I led my life thus far and it has done wonders for me. I will have no choice but to dive into motherhood in the same way and to trust my instincts with raising this little one.
I become startled as my office door bursts open. I grab my wand, but I already know who has come to disturb me. There is only one person who would stride inside my office so fearlessly.
“There are so many stuffy old men hanging around your office, Tasha! Honestly, it would do you some good to get a few nice young lads around here!”
“What do you want, Fiona? Shouldn’t you be in the dining hall? Or at your drama lessons?”
“Drama lessons are cancelled dear sister. It’s the end of term! Which is also why I’m here! I am saving you from your stuffy meetings with the stuffy old men!” Fiona waves her hands over her head and attempts a small dramatic spin.
I roll my eyes at her. Fiona is not one for propriety, but she is one for theatrics. Merlin help this child if Fiona will be allowed to influence it. I have plenty of difficulty handling one overly dramatic Pitch, let alone two.
Fiona stalks over to where I am sitting. She is about to grab my hands when she notices the small stick on the desk. Before I can grab and hide it, Fiona jumps on it.
Her grey eyes widen as she stares at the double lines. A full smile slowly spreads across her lips. I sigh. So much for Malcolm being the first to know.
“Tasha. Have you got a bun in the oven?”
I yank the stick from Fiona’s hands and throw it back into the desk. I then grab Fiona by the arm and start to lead her out of my office. “Fiona, I swear to Merlin if you tell ANYONE about this, I will personally see to it that you spend the remainder of your days eating your meals through a straw!”
“Oh come off it, Tasha! Who would I tell?” Fiona tears her arm away from me as I raise an eyebrow.
“Your delinquent friends for one!” Fiona rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. I am not amused by my sister’s laissez-faire attitude regarding my pregnancy. And of course she is not as worried as I am. Fiona never has anything to lose, being the second born and all. Fiona can afford to blabber about, and ignore common sense, so long as I am there to clean up her messes. Well, I cannot risk Fiona making yet another mess.
“I mean it, Fiona. Give me your hand and swear that you will not tell anyone about this. I cannot afford to let this news reach the rest of the Coven until I am ready to announce it.”
Fiona shakes her head and grabs her own wand from the inside of her shirt sleeve. She takes my hand and offers her wand to me. I am the stronger magician out of the two of us. I tap the wand to our joined hands. “An Englishwoman’s word is her bond!” Fiona pulls her hand away and rubs it.
“Christ Tasha! That spell? The last time you used that spell, I couldn’t feel my hand for a month!”
I smirk at my troublesome sister: “First of all, it wasn’t my fault you chose to sneak into my bedroom after promising me you wouldn’t. Second of all, I always did love that spell. Now, please leave. I am very busy.” I head towards the door. I am about to open it, when Fiona blocks it with her foot, slamming it shut again.
“Just tell me one thing, sister. You are going to call the kid Bowie if it’s a boy, right? I’ll be burnt at the bloody stake before I let my favourite niece or nephew get one of those pompous ancient names that our family loves so much!” I force open the door and roughly shove my sister outside. I can hear Fiona laughing as I slam the door in her face.
A deep sigh escapes my lips. I rub my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I had not planned on Fiona knowing so soon, but I suppose it is better this way. It does feel good to have someone else know about the baby. And the spell I cast should give me plenty of assurance that Fiona will not spill the beans. Fiona hated not being able to use her hand for a month, she will not risk that punishment again.
I still have a few more meetings scheduled for the rest of the day. They are to discuss funding for the next year, as well as contract negotiations and potential additions to the Watford library. All important and interesting topics to discuss and ponder over for hours on end. Discussions that would probably be better left for a different time. Maybe, for this one time, I can afford to take an evening to myself and my husband. An evening to tell him that our lives have changed for the better. That we will soon be expanding our family (in fact, we will be starting our new family).
I hear another knock on her door. One of the younger magicians, a man named David, is waiting for me, with furrowed eyebrows, and an angry scowl on his face.
“Headmistress Pitch. The other Coven members are waiting for you.”
“Thank you David. I won’t be much longer.”
I gather myself and head towards the room that is used for Coven gatherings. It is a small room, with a long oval-shaped table, and twenty seats (one for each member of the Coven). I take my place at the head of the table and look at each Coven member’s bored, exhausted face. It has been a long day. No one will fault me for cancelling the rest of the meetings. I inhale a deep breath and address the stuffy old men.
“Gentlemen. I thank you for joining me. I know that we have all had a very long and trying day. I think it would be in everyone’s best interest that we take the remainder of the evening off and reconvene tomorrow. We can all benefit from a good night’s rest before beginning discussions about literature and budgets. Yes?”
I let out a small sigh of relief when the other Coven members agree with me. They all quickly rise from their seats and begin to file out of the room. I follow behind them and walk back to my office. I sit at my desk once more and pull the pregnancy test out.
I am going to be a mother. I think to myself. I rub my stomach and smile. I turn to the phone on my desk and dial the number to the Hampshire Manor. Malcolm should have been working from home today. A smile spreads on my lips as I hear the voice of my husband on the end of the line.
“Malcolm, darling? I am coming home early tonight. I have something to tell you. It’s important.”