When she was settled and Mary had gone, a wave of rebellion came over her. She couldn’t bear to see Hannah. There had been such a fuss in the house when the news had come that Nathan had nearly drowned, and although Leah was as relieved as the others he was safe, she didn’t want to hear about it again from her most favoured sister. Grunting with the effort, she got to her feet, couldn’t slip her shoes on so left them, and waddled out of the room. She would go up to the nursery and hope Hannah wouldn’t follow her.
As she got to the end of the corridor, she heard Hannah’s voice at Mrs Opie’s door. In so far as she could, Leah hastened to get away.
Hannah saw her disappearing round the corner. ‘Leah. Wait a moment.’ She had only seen her younger sister once since Lily’s wedding, and although she expected a subdued reception she wanted to say hello before fetching Greg and Patrick.
Leah hurried up the first three steps to the nursery. Hannah called to her again and she quickly raised her foot for the next step. The sharp movement hurt her, an agonising pain searing her groin. Her hand wasn’t firmly enough on the narrow banister and she lost her balance. She was falling. The shock of having nothing substantial underneath her, the gut-wrenching sensation of sinking rapidly and having no way of saving herself was replaced with terror of the harm that might be done to her baby. She screamed. Her hands instinctively clutching her distended middle, she landed like a block of wood on the corridor floor.
She was gripped with pain, crying and howling. Hannah ran to her and knelt down, feeling for broken bones. ‘It’s all right, Leah,’ she said soothingly. ‘I don’t think you’re hurt, just shaken up. I’ll get someone to help you up.’ She laid her hand over both of Leah’s which were clenched together in a vice-like grip as a pain tore through her belly. Hannah recognised the way she arched her body. The fall had not injured Leah but it had brought on her labour. ‘Greg! Mary! We need help. Quickly.’
Feena heard the commotion and after ringing her bell urgently came out of her suite in her wheelchair. ‘What’s happened? Did she fall?’
Hannah could feel a heavy contraction under her palm. ‘Yes, down the nursery steps. She’s in labour. She needs the doctor and midwife.’
Greg and Mary arrived together. Flinging himself down beside his wife, Greg lifted the top half of her body into his arms. Leah was hysterical, shrieking for her baby, trying to double herself up as the pain ripped and shuddered through her.
Hannah took her face between her hands. ‘Leah! Listen to me,’ she said loudly and precisely. ‘You must calm yourself down. It’s important we get you on to your bed for your sake and the baby’s. Take a deep breath. Come on. The pain won’t be so bad if you concentrate on being calm.’
Maternal instinct overrode her panic and pain; Leah knew she must obey Hannah’s voice. ‘Take a deep breath,’ Hannah said again. Leah stopped screaming and breathed in. ‘That’s right, good girl,’ Hannah said. ‘Now blow out through your mouth.’
With Leah quieter and compliant, Mary, Hannah and Greg between them helped her to the bedroom.
Her own predicament forgotten, Feena had wheeled herself in front of them. She ripped the covers back on the bed then went to her rooms to use the telephone. She was back in under five minutes, after explaining first to Patrick, Miss Benson and Angie, who were grouped together outside the bedroom, what was happening and instructing them to wait downstairs until she gave fresh orders.
Greg and Mary were at the top of the bed; Leah was clinging to their hands. Leah was gripped with a fierce contraction and yelled like a wild animal. Hannah had pushed Leah’s clothes up to her waist and told her to push.
‘The labour can’t possibly be that advanced!’ Feena gasped.
‘The baby’s almost born,’ Hannah said between gritted teeth. ‘It can happen as fast as this occasionally. The fall helped to move things along. Take another deep breath, Leah, then push with all your might. It’ll soon be over.’
She had spoken soothingly but she was racked with fear. The pain of labour could be intensified a hundredfold when the delivery came as quickly as this, the mother’s body having no preparation for its most arduous task. With Leah writhing and thrashing, the risk of her haemorrhaging was greatly increased. Hannah prayed the baby wasn’t very big and would pass easily out of Leah’s body; if it didn’t, the midwife might arrive too late to be of any use.
Feena couldn’t bear to watch yet felt she shouldn’t leave the room. She knew the next moments would be crucial. She wheeled herself to look out of the window. Rabbits were gambolling on the lawn. Would her great-grandchild and its mother come through safely and play there together?
Encouraged by Hannah’s voice, which sounded as if it was coming from somewhere far away, Leah fought against her body’s wilful attempts to curl up and clamp the baby inside her to prevent it being born. She pushed and pushed and pushed. Mary knelt up on the bed and steadied her legs.
‘Push!’ Hannah shouted.
Leah pushed. And screamed despairingly. And felt as if half her body had come away from her. The pain was indescribable. She was torn apart. Her strength had gone. She had no breath, no energy, nothing left to give. She fell back against Greg’s body and thought she heard him crying.
Hannah worked swiftly, helping the baby’s passage, her actions gentle and light. There wasn’t a sound in the room except Leah’s harsh breathing.
Deftly cutting the cord, aware of Greg and Mary’s frightened stares, Hannah turned the baby upside down by the ankles and gently tapped its buttocks. Nothing. She smacked it. Nothing. No movement. Sobbing, she smacked the baby hard and gave it a little desperate shake.
It whimpered. A tiny cry. Then it bawled.
With tears streaming down her face, Hannah gently turned the baby in her hands and cradled it against her. It cried, a natural cry, a healthy sound, for its mother.
Leah came out of her stupor. ‘Baby?’
Hannah carried the child to the head of the bed and laid the wet, naked little body on Leah’s chest. ‘Your son, Leah,’ she wept with joy and emotion. ‘Edward Gregory Charles Opie. The next heir to Roscarrock.’
* * *
Matt drew her into his arms. ‘I’ve come to take you home, Hannah. Have you come down off the clouds yet?’
His touch made her cry again. They were alone in the drawing room. ‘Oh, Matt, you should see them together. He’s got a mop of hair as dark as Leah’s and such a sweet little face. The doctor says they’re fine. Leah’s so happy.’
He caressed her hair away from her face, brushed her lips with his. ‘And all due to you, darling. It must have been a frightening experience for you.’
‘It was, for all of us. Matt, such a lot has happened today. Mrs Opie’s determined to go away now the truth is out. I shall miss her terribly.’
‘Of course you will, but it will probably be for the best. Hannah, I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘Oh, Matt,’ she clung to him. ‘Not bad news.’
‘No, not exactly. I wanted to get to the bottom of the gossip and I’ve been asking around the village. It seems Daniel wasn’t responsible. It was the postman who started it off. He had delivered a parcel here and overheard Leah shouting in a tantrum that Mrs Opie was your real mother.’
‘Leah?’ She was astounded. ‘But why should she do that?’
‘I’ve also spoken to Lily. Leah was shouting she hated you. She was still jealous of you, darling, feeling left out, and things got out of hand. You may miss her, but it will be a blessing when Feena Opie goes away and leaves Leah and Greg to live alone here.’
Hannah rested against his chest, breathing in his wonderful familiarity, assured, feeling safe, cosseted. Eventually, she said, ‘I said some terrible things to Daniel. I owe him an apology. Oh, dear God, Matt, I don’t want there to be friction between us and him again. I couldn’t bear that.’
‘I don’t think there will be,’ Matt said, holding her tightly. ‘I hate to admit it, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you.
He loves you. And he’s changed. He can never be trusted but I don’t believe he’ll try to hurt you again.’
After kissing the man she loved in an intimate, passionate embrace, she reluctantly let go of him. ‘I must go up and see Leah before we go. Make sure everything will be all right between us in the future.’
Elsie Baker, the nursemaid, was in attendance. Hannah asked her for a few moments alone with the new mother. She took Leah’s hand in hers and briefly told her what Matt had said. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been so miserable, Leah. I was never any threat to you or your place here.’ She smiled. ‘I know I act a bit ladylike at times but I only want Matt and our children, our home down in Porthellis.’
‘I’m sorry, Hannah,’ Leah sniffed. She was drowsy from sedation, gloriously happy about her son, eager to put things right with Hannah. ‘I feel so ashamed. I should have known you’d never do anything to make me feel small. I had no right to be jealous of you. If it wasn’t for you, my baby and I might have died. Please say you forgive me.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive, my love. You only made yourself suffer. Now you can look forward to a happy future, just you and Greg. You can please yourselves what you do here and how you bring up little Edward. Go to sleep now. I’ll come back to see you tomorrow. I want to spend some time with Mrs Opie before she goes away, then after that, just think, Mother will come here as often as you like.’
Chapter 32
Daniel was sleeping heavily, sprawled across the bed. In addition to his frayed breathing which filled the room, there was a strong smell of whisky. There were whisky stains on his sling. His hand hovered above an empty glass lying on the carpet. Hannah picked up the glass and put it out of harm’s way.
She looked down at the closed eyes framed by long dark lashes, the tousled red hair, the superb features where such arrogance, cruelty and corruptness had played without mercy or decency. She was beginning to believe that somewhere inside him something remained of the adventurous, boastful, harmless boy she had once known; brought back to life by suffering, but only a little suffering compared to what he had inflicted upon others. He did not really deserve forgiveness for the terrible things he had done, yet she was relieved, uplifted, not to have a reason to hate him any more.
‘Daniel.’ He moaned, moving his head from side to side, but did not wake. Lowering her face close to his ear, she called softly, ‘Danny.’
‘Mmmm?’ His eyes fluttered open, took an instant to focus on her. ‘H-Hannah, didn’t expect you,’ he said groggily. ‘’Fraid after you left I got roaring drunk.’ He did not stir but lay gazing up at her and she saw a gentleness, a new submissiveness filtering through the windows of his eyes.
‘I’ve come back, Danny, to say I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier today.’
‘You believe me now?’
‘Matt found out the truth. He asked around the village. I know it wasn’t you who started the gossip about Mrs Opie and me.’
‘Guess I can’t blame you for accusing me,’ he said ruefully, wetting his dry lips. ‘Does Matt know you’re here?’
‘He’s downstairs talking to Grace and Melanie. He wanted to come up with me but I felt I should explain this to you alone. Grace is relieved that we’re not on bad terms again. She’s a good woman, Daniel. I hope you’ll try to make your marriage work, make her happy.’
‘I don’t really deserve her, do I? Or you being here after me wreaking so much havoc in your life.’ His expression was mixed with hope and uncertainty. ‘Does this mean we can be friends? It’s what I want more than anything.’
‘I don’t know. There’s been so much hurt, I’m not sure if I’ll ever want that. At least we don’t hate each other any more and want to cause each other harm.’
Slowly, grimacing with pain, he sat up. ‘I didn’t really hate you, Hannah. I promise you on my children’s lives that I will never, ever, do anything to hurt you again.’ He wanted to say he loved her but she had told him never to mention it again; he would respect that, and anything else she wanted. She did not know if she wanted them to be friends, but she had called him Danny, as in the old days. Now there was the future to face, perhaps a time when their lives might depend on their drawing closer together. ‘Do you read the papers, Hannah? Listen to the wireless?’
‘Yes. Why? It’s a strange question to ask.’
‘No, it isn’t. There’s a real possibility that we’re heading for another war. If such a terrible thing did happen, it would be good to think we’d be on the same side.’
‘Matt thinks we might soon be plunged into war too. So many things have been happening close to home I haven’t given it much thought.’ She considered the new danger threatening her home, her family and the village; the sea and local beaches, the playground of her youth with Daniel. ‘I suppose if war did break out it would be comforting to know who’s on your side.’
‘And when it’s over,’ he asked gently, ‘to see the children, our children, playing happily side by side?’
‘To hope that they would always stay friends… It’s all I can say for now.’
There was a reflective silence. He gave her a brief smile. She left him and went downstairs to Matt.
The Roscarrock Sagas
Roscarrock
Porthellis
Find out more
First published in the United Kingdom in 1996 by Headline Book Publishing
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Gloria Cook, 1996
The moral right of Gloria Cook to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788636490
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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