A Vicarage Homecoming

by Kate Hewitt

  You were never that, Dan…

  I know, I know. It’s good to be back.

  She smiled back at him, and then someone was touching her arm, someone else patting her bump, and she was drawn into the happy fray of a party intent on getting in full swing.

  There was champagne and the ever-present elderflower cordial, and scones and cake—her mum had outdone herself with a rattle-shaped cake dusted in sparkly pink glitter—and presents. So many presents.

  Miriam stared at the gorgeously wrapped pile in disbelief. “But…but I already have everything I need,” she’d stammered, and everyone had laughed.

  “Surely you can have a bit more.”

  And there was so much more—velveteen sleepsuits and hand-knit matinee jackets and booties in a whole rainbow of colours, lovely, bright wooden toys and, from Abigail Cribbs, a voucher for a post-baby spa treatment at a luxury hotel in Keswick.

  “This is all so amazing,” Miriam said, fighting tears. She was overwhelmed by everyone’s unstinting generosity and obvious love—especially when she’d resisted both for so long. “Truly amazing. Thank you.”

  “Well, this is a vicarage baby,” someone called out. “We’re all honorary aunties and uncles.”

  “Yes, you are.” Miriam had no doubt about that. Her daughter had the best and biggest family of anyone around. She was just glad she’d finally realised that.

  *

  Several hours later, it was time to say goodbye to her father. A lump formed in Miriam’s throat as Roger drew her into a comforting hug, her head resting against his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry I won’t be here for the birth, darling,” he said quietly. “I really wish I could.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  He was quiet for a moment, stroking her hair with one hand. “I hope I haven’t let you down,” he finally said, surprising her. “All of you. I would understand it if you sometimes felt I was choosing ministry over my family. I’ve never wanted to make that choice, and I’ve never meant to, but I’m sure it has seemed as if I have, over the years.” He was silent, waiting for her answer, her verdict.

  Miriam considered his words, their import, before replying. She felt whatever she said would be important, and it had to be honest. “Sometimes I think it has seemed like that,” she finally said slowly. “But that might be more of a reflection of me than you.”

  “That’s kind of you to say so,” he answered with a sad smile. “But I’m not sure I always got the balance right.”

  “Does anyone? That’s part of life, Dad. And I’ll tell you this—no matter what I felt when I was a little kid or an angst-ridden teenager, I never doubted your love for me, or for any of us.” Her voice choked. “Never.”

  “Oh, Miri.” Her father hugged her again, more tightly this time. “I do love you so. All of you.”

  “I know. I love you, too.”

  They hugged for another few seconds before Roger gave her a final squeeze and then stepped away. “I’d better go before I miss my train.”

  “Okay.” Miriam smiled through the haze of her tears, realising afresh how much she was going to miss her dad, how glad she was he’d come back.

  “I’ll see you in the summer, and I’ll meet this little one.” He gave her bump a loving pat. “I can’t wait.”

  With the party finished, Miriam ended up walking back home with Dan, to Esther’s raised eyebrows and silent questioning look that Miriam resolutely ignored.

  “Did you have fun?” she asked as they headed up the high street. “It wasn’t awkward?”

  “No, it actually wasn’t. Rachel and I have put the past behind us for good.” He smiled wryly. “So you can stop asking about it.”

  “Sorry.” Miriam made a face. “You must get tired of people asking you how you’re coping, that sort of thing.”

  Dan shrugged. “Yes and no. I know they mean well, which helps, but Rachel has, shall we say, moved on in a more obvious way than I have. And people notice.”

  Miriam’s heart turned over at this, and she kept her voice casual as she asked, “And do you think you might move on that way, as well? One day?”

  Dan was silent for a single heartbeat, long enough for Miriam to wait, to wonder, to hope. Foolishly.

  “I can’t see it happening anytime soon,” he said at last. “But I trust it will when it’s right.”

  “Right.” At least he hadn’t said he still needed to meet someone, but Miriam knew she was pretty much delusional to believe he was thinking of her that way. He wasn’t. He absolutely wasn’t, and that was made clear in the next breath when he turned to her with his eyebrows raised and said, “What about you? Rory’s left, but you’ll see him again, won’t you?”

  “Yes, he wants me to visit him in London after the baby’s born.”

  “And you’re going to?”

  “Yes. He has a right to have a relationship with his daughter.” The words still sounded strange.

  “And what about a relationship with you?”

  Inwardly Miriam squirmed at the blunt question, one she didn’t want Dan to ask, much less have to answer herself. “I don’t know about that,” she said after a moment. “We still don’t know each other at all yet.”

  “But it’s possible,” Dan pressed, and Miriam was half tempted to ask him why he was so keen to know.

  “It’s possible,” she admitted. “That’s what Rory said, more or less. That I keep an open mind, so that’s what I’m doing.”

  “That seems reasonable.”

  “Yes.” Her heart felt heavier and heavier with each admission. “Yes, it does.”

  They’d reached Dan’s house and he paused for a moment in the drive. It was only early evening, dark already but not very late. Early enough for Dan to ask if she wanted a bite to eat, and Miriam lingered, hoping he would. Although things felt normal between them, she realised they hadn’t quite got back to that easy comfort they’d enjoyed a few weeks ago, eating meals and spending evenings together. She wanted to get it back, very much.

  But after a few seconds’ pause Dan gave her an apologetic smile that made her wilt inside and said, “I’m afraid I’ve got to catch up on work tonight. But I’ll see you tomorrow at the surgery?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You know, it’s getting so close now, you can take off for maternity leave whenever you want.” His smile was a little bit crooked. “Don’t feel you have to work right to the end.”

  “I don’t know what else I’d do, and sitting at a desk and answering a phone is hardly taxing.” She’d finished the filing, and had kept on top of Dan’s paperwork, so the job, Miriam knew, was not nearly as onerous or necessary as Dan had once made out. Still, she enjoyed it, as well as simply being with him.

  “All right, then.” Dan gave her a little wave. “See you tomorrow.”

  *

  “Baby looks good,” the midwife informed Miriam cheerfully two days later, when she had her regular weekly appointment in Keswick. “She’s in the right place, and the head is down and engaged. You could go at any time.”

  Which made Miriam feel like a rocket ship about to take off. And in a way, she was.

  “You have a birth plan in place?” the midwife asked, and Miriam gave a rather sheepish nod.

  “Um…sort of?”

  “It’s important to have a plan in place,” the midwife said with a stern sort of smile. “You don’t want to be taken by surprise. Will someone be with you?”

  Miriam had already shared that she didn’t have a partner, which the midwife had taken in her stride. “Yes, my mum.”

  “Mums are good in situations like this.”

  “Yes, they are.” Although Miriam was a little bit nervous about having her mother see her in such a frankly embarrassing situation. Esther had told her that she’d heard that sometimes women did a poo while they were pushing.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Miriam had demanded. “It’s going to happen to you too, you know.”

  “I know,” Esth
er responded rather grimly. “That’s why I’m learning about it now, so I’m prepared, and, more importantly, so Will is prepared.”

  At least Miriam didn’t have to worry about the love of her life seeing her doing all sorts of embarrassing things, including potential poos. Just her mum, who had changed plenty of her nappies, so really, it was all good.

  “Does the midwife think you might go into labour early?” Ruth asked a bit anxiously when Miriam updated her on her appointment a couple of days later. “Because I was going to go to Manchester to visit a friend just for Saturday afternoon, but I won’t if you think you might go into labour…”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Miriam assured her. “That’s still ten days away from my due date, and weren’t you late with all of us?”

  “Yes, every single one.” Ruth smiled in poignant reminiscence. “Two weeks late with Jamie. The longest two weeks of my life.” For a second she looked so sad that Miriam fought the urge to cry herself.

  “I wish I remembered him,” she said quietly.

  “Oh darling, so do I.” Ruth sniffed and smiled. “It’s sad that you don’t have the memories I do, but that’s part of life, isn’t it? He adored you, though.”

  “Did he?” Miriam looked at her in surprise.

  “Have I never told you that?” Ruth shook her head in regret. “I should have. Yes, he adored you. He used to give you helicopter rides—you’d balance on his feet and hold his hands and he’d whizz you around. It used to nearly give me a heart attack, but you absolutely loved it. I’m sure we have a photo somewhere.”

  “Do we? I’d love to see it.”

  “Have I really never told you that before?” Ruth shook her head again. “I really should have.”

  “It’s okay, Mum.” Miriam knew that both her parents had found it difficult to talk about Jamie at all for many years. Even more than twenty years on, it was still an open wound. “I’m glad to know now.”

  “I’ll look for that photo. We’ve kept all the albums up in the attic here. It seemed easier.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And are you sure about Saturday? I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours, but—”

  “I’m sure, Mum. I’m glad you’re seeing your friend. Who is it?”

  “Someone from Dad’s theological college days. It’s been years since I’ve seen her.” Ruth nodded, making up her mind. “All right, I’ll go. But text me if you feel the merest twinge—I can be back in two hours if I need to be, and first babies always take forever.”

  Miriam grimaced a bit at that. Labour and delivery felt like this cloud looming rather ominously on the horizon, the thing she had to get through before she had her baby. There was, unfortunately, no escaping it.

  And still it loomed closer, and although Miriam was determined to work until the end, since the alternative was sitting around and twiddling her thumbs, it certainly tired her out.

  “You can stop anytime,” Dan told her yet again as she heaved herself into the chair behind the desk. “Honestly, Miriam.”

  “What else would I do?” Miriam replied. “I hate being bored.”

  “Some nesting, maybe?” Dan said with a glinting smile. “Knit a few booties…?”

  “As if I can knit. Besides, I have booties in every colour of the rainbow, thanks to the lovely knitting circle at church.”

  “I bet you do.”

  “Rachel warned me that I’ll have to make a schedule of when the baby wears them, to make sure every jacket and bootie gets an outing.”

  “Yes, I shudder to think what might happen if the baby wore the same outfit twice before showcasing someone else’s.”

  “Shudder, indeed.”

  They smiled at each other, and as it spun out for another second, Miriam felt that now-familiar ache coursing through her. If only you could see me the way I see you…

  But of course Dan didn’t. And she shouldn’t be seeing him that way, anyway. She knew that. She really did. It was just hard to remember sometimes.

  On Saturday her mum went to Manchester, and Miriam decided to do some of the nesting Dan had teasingly mentioned. The nursery kit was mainly in boxes, and she spent a surprisingly pleasant afternoon making up the cot, and folding outfits and putting them in the bureau. She filled a wicker basket with baby toys, and flipped through several board books she’d been given, tearing up at Guess How Much I Love You.

  Then she looked up and saw big, fat snowflakes drifting down. Struggling to her feet, Miriam watched the snow fall gently down, coating the world in white. It was a perfect, peaceful scene, and watching it she felt a deep peace settle inside her.

  She’d come a long way since she’d returned home in July, and she still had further to go—lots further—but she didn’t feel scared or unequal to the task. For the first time she felt she was truly ready for all that lay ahead.

  It snowed all afternoon and into the evening, with the drifts piling up under the windows, the fells cloaked in white. Her mum called at six o’clock, her voice high and thin with anxiety.

  “The train’s been cancelled because of the snow—I’m going to stay over with my friend and come back in the morning. Will you be all right?”

  “I’m fine, Mum.” Miriam rested one hand on her bump as she gazed outside at the still-falling snow.

  “But what if something happens—”

  “My due date is still ten days away. Honestly, it’s all fine.”

  And Miriam genuinely believed that, until she woke up at two in the morning with her stomach banding with contractions. They felt like hard Braxton Hicks, making her wince a little bit, and then after a little while she realised they were happening around every five minutes.

  Whoa. Miriam struggled up from bed and got her phone to time them properly. What had started out as the usual discomfort was becoming a little bit painful. But not really painful, she told herself. Not like she saw in films, where a woman suddenly clutched her belly and groaned as if she were in agony. Nothing like that.

  She sat at the kitchen table and timed them on her phone, amazed, scared, and kind of thrilled that they were coming literally every five minutes, on the dot. Her body was amazing, or was it her baby? Either way something incredible was happening.

  Then she remembered that her mother was in Manchester, and it was still snowing heavily, and that little flicker of excitement died right out. If she was in labour, it was going to be decidedly tricky to get to Whitehaven, and she wouldn’t have anyone with her.

  In fact, she should probably get going sooner than later, since the snow wasn’t letting up. Fear licked at her insides but she told herself to stay calm. Dan had a Land Rover. He could get through the snow, and she could ask Anna, Rachel, or Esther to come with her. It was still all going to be fine.

  And this might not even be labour, she reminded herself. Lots of women had false symptoms. Her midwife had told her all about it. The contractions might die down in another hour or so. So perhaps she should wait…

  The muscles around her belly tightened again, enough to make her catch her breath. No, she wasn’t going to wait. She was going to wake up Dan, and get to the hospital as quickly as she could.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Dan…Dan.” Gently, and then not so gently, Miriam shook Dan’s shoulder. This was so not how she’d envisioned things happening. Since deciding to go to the hospital, she’d got dressed, yanked on a pair of boots, and headed over to Dan’s house.

  Unlike the last time she’d slipped into his kitchen in the middle of the night, Dan was not awake and wandering downstairs. No, he was dead asleep, snoring gently, and he didn’t even wake up when Miriam crouched over his bed, feeling ridiculous, and pushed his shoulder. Again.

  “Dan!” Her voice came out in a near-bellow, and Dan startled awake, the duvet falling off. Did the man never sleep with a shirt on? Miriam thought rather irritably. It was freezing.

  “Wha…what? Miriam?” He stared at her incredulously.

  “I think I’m in labour,�
�� Miriam said. “And I need you to drive me to Esther’s.” She’d decided she wanted her no-nonsense sister at the birth, someone to keep her focused. She’d already rung her, but Esther hadn’t answered her mobile or the house phone, and Miriam cursed all the heavy sleepers. She’d just have to wake her up when she got there.

  “You’re in labour?” Dan scrambled from the bed, yanking on a T-shirt and hoodie. “How fast are the contractions coming?”

  “About every five minutes.” Although now it was more like every four minutes.

  “You still have loads of time,” Dan said, sounding as if he was reassuring himself rather than her. “First babies take a long time.”

  “So I’ve heard. But it’s still snowing, and I want to get to the hospital before the roads get too bad.”

  Dan frowned. “Miriam, the roads are bad already. I heard on the radio earlier that they’ve closed the A66 between Keswick and Cockermouth.”

  “What?” She stared at him in disbelief. “They can’t just close a road.”

  “They can. The wind is sweeping the snow into drifts across the road, apparently. It’s too dangerous to drive.”

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath and let it out evenly. She was not going to panic. “What about Carlisle? We can take the A595.”

  “It’s possible.” He raked a hand through his hair, looking concerned before he gave a quick nod. “It’s worth a go, anyway. Let me get dressed and we can leave in two minutes.”

  “Okay.” Miriam nodded, feeling reassured by his decisive manner. This was all going to be okay. It had to be.

  As good as his word, Dan was in his Rover in less than two minutes. “Do you have your bag?” he asked. “With all your…” He shrugged a bit blankly. “Stuff?”

  Miriam nearly swore. She’d forgotten her bag—the bag she hadn’t even packed yet, because she hadn’t thought she needed to. “No, but Esther can bring it to me later.”

  “Are you sure? What about an outfit for the baby, some comfortable clothes for you…?” Miriam bit her lip, struggling suddenly not to cry. She might not have made a detailed birth plan, but she knew this wasn’t how she’d wanted things to go. “Look, why don’t you stay here?” Dan suggested. “I’ll go grab a few things.”