by Kitty Neale
‘Elsie, I’m scared,’ she whimpered as she heaved herself back onto the bed.
‘You’ll be all right, darling. In no time you’ll be holding your baby in your arms and it will all be worth it.’
Elsie stroked her forehead as another contraction shot through her, and Sally gripped the edge of the mattress, her knuckles white. ‘Oh, it hurts, it hurts,’ she cried.
‘I know, love. I know,’ Elsie soothed.
Sally tossed her head in agony as the pain came in waves, growing worse and worse, until she barely had time to gasp before another ripped through her. It went on and on, never-ending, and she lost all track of time.
She screamed now, as another contraction gripped her, and after a while it felt like she’d been screaming for hours. The midwife must have arrived, but she had no memory of it, only becoming aware of her voice as she issued instructions.
‘Mum, I want my mum,’ she croaked.
‘She’ll be here soon. I’ve sent for her,’ Elsie promised.
Oh God, it was agony, unrelenting. When would it stop? Please someone make it stop! She could hear voices, as though from a distance, muffled and indistinct. ‘Ambulance’, she thought she heard the word ‘ambulance’, and struggled to speak.
Her mother’s voice – was that her mother’s voice? ‘Mum, Mum,’ she whimpered.
‘Shush, love, you’ll be all right. I’m here now. Hold on, darling, please hold on.’
When had her mother arrived? How long had she been there? Pain again, all she was aware of was pain, filling her whole body and tearing her apart. Other sounds momentarily penetrated – a door banging, shouts, and was that laughter?
Then another voice. No, it couldn’t be. She knew then that she was hallucinating.
‘Sally, Sally, I’m here, darling,’ the voice whispered, close to her ear.
She turned her head. She could see him. ‘Arthur?’ she husked.
‘Yes, Sally, it’s Arthur. My boy’s come home,’ Elsie sobbed, tears streaming down her face.
Sally tried to smile, tried to reach out to touch him, unable to believe that he was real, but she felt strange, and there was a loud ringing in her ears.
There was another voice, someone shouting, ‘Oh God – no, she’s haemorrhaging!’
Was that her mother screaming, her voice sounding hysterical as she cried, ‘Please do something – you must do something! Stop the bleeding! For God’s sake, stop the bleeding!’
‘Sally, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me,’ she heard Arthur pleading.
Then a final pain, a slithering, rushing sensation, and a chorus: ‘It’s a girl, a lovely little girl.’
‘Sally!’ her mother screamed.
She was suddenly cushioned, floating, the pain gone. A golden light was forming and she drifted towards it, arms outstretched. Her friend had come. ‘Angel, my angel,’ she whispered.
Then there was nothing, just darkness …
‘Oh thank God, thank God,’ she could hear someone sobbing, the voice penetrating her mind. Opening her eyes she saw her mother, tears rolling down her cheeks.
‘You’re gonna be all right now, Sally. You’re gonna be all right, darling.’
For a moment she was bewildered. What had happened? She had vague memories of floating through a tunnel, a wonderful feeling of peace, a light in the distance, something she had experienced before, a long time ago. She struggled to remember, but then a hand gripped hers and she turned her head.
Arthur was sitting beside her, his face full of joy. ‘Look, Sally. Look, here’s our daughter.’
‘You’re here, you’re really here,’ she whispered, her heart flooding with happiness and her eyes lowering to see the beautiful baby nestled in his arms, a wisp of red hair visible.
‘Yes, darling, I’m here, and I promise I’ll never, ever leave you again. Oh Sally, I love you so much.’
‘Jenny?’ she managed to whisper.
‘It’s over, Sally, and she wasn’t pregnant after all.’
She managed to smile, feeling weak and exhausted, yet so happy as Arthur looked down at their baby, his face full of tenderness and love.
‘The ambulance is here, you’ve got to go to the hospital,’ her mother said.
But Sally barely heard her; she was too busy gazing at her daughter as she was placed in her arms. ‘You’ve given her a beautiful name, darling,’ Arthur said softly.
She raised her eyes, puzzled. ‘Name, what name?’
‘Why Angela, of course. You called out her name as soon as she was born, and stretched out your arms to hold her.’
Sally smiled softly as her daughter nuzzled into her breast. ‘Angela,’ she whispered. ‘My angel.’
Kitty Neale was born and raised in Battersea, South London. This solid background gives credence to her third novel, which is set in and around that area during the fifties. Her working life was varied: from shop assistant, secretary to the British Tourist Authority and then manager of a busy doctor’s practice. In 1987 she moved to Surrey with her husband and two children. It was here that she took up writing.
Copyright
AN ORION EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2003 by Orion Books.
First published in ebook in 2011 by Orion Books.
Copyright © Kitty Neale 2003
The moral right of Kitty Neale 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, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978 1 4091 3918 8
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