The woman hung the polythene sheet over the dripping leaves of the hedge, expertly running it under the tree’s low-hanging boughs. The child whimpered. She looked at it anxiously. It was not used to the absence of its mother’s warmth. The polythene was low enough on one side to reach the ground, kept in place by fallen branches. Wind was the enemy, blowing rain under the overhang. Clouds scurried in the breeze. She prayed for a dry night. In these climes the weather was unpredictable. Her child was restless, clothes wet and smelling of faeces. There was no water. The woman unwrapped it as best she could and flung away the rag which had been swaddling its lower parts. Thankful for her foresight in stealing the toilet roll from the public toilet, she cleaned most of the dirt away. There was enough rainwater still clinging to the hedge for her…
