Perspiration trickled down his back. The room was stuffy. They had gone to bed with the window shut against the hot wind that had raged outside most of the previous day and into the night. He opened it and felt a small relief as the fresher outside air flowed in.
William lifted his head at the sound of a moan and then the murmur of a voice. He stepped out into the sitting room. There was light glowing from under the door to the kitchen. Perhaps Johanna wasn’t well. Then his heart skipped a beat: or Georgina. He opened the door to see his mother-in-law bent over his wife, who was seated in a chair, her head in her arms on the table.
He was by Georgina’s side in an instant. “What is it?”
Georgina raised her head a little to look at him. Her face was pale. “I’ve overdone it, that’s all.”
On her other side Johanna shook her head at him.
“I’m going to fetch the doctor,” he said.
“That’s a good idea,” Johanna said.
“No.” Georgina’s denial was followed by a sharp intake of breath.
Over the top of her William glanced at Johanna. The older woman was worried, and William knew her face reflected his own fear.
“It’s not the baby.” Georgina sat up. Her lip trembled. “I’m simply tired from the travelling and then that awful hot wind yesterday.”
“The doctor won’t mind coming to see you and then you’ll be reassured,” Johanna said. She pressed her hand to William’s shoulder.
He bent and kissed Georgina’s cheek. “I won’t be long.”
As it turned out he was back quicker than he thought, but as soon as he opened the back door he was greeted by more moaning from Georgina. This time she was standing in front of the kitchen bench, her head down and her hands propping her up.
“The doctor is out of town,” he murmured for Johanna’s ears only.
“Then we must take her to Mrs Ward’s. She will know what to do.”
“No.” Georgina twisted her head to glare at them. “It’s not the baby — it’s too soon.”
William could see the perspiration on her brow and the pain in her eyes. “Georgina, we must go. Mrs Ward is our only option.” Before she could protest further he hurried to hitch the horse and cart.
Laura was near exhaustion but the racking pain would not leave her alone. How long had it been since the Crawfords had brought her to Mrs Ward’s? She squinted through swollen eyes at the window. Around the edge of the curtain she could see a faint glow. It must be nearly morning. Dear Lord, she had been in this agony since yesterday. Why didn’t Johannes come to help her? She moaned. He was away. He wouldn’t even know the baby was coming. Mrs Crawford had said he would return to meet his new son or daughter.
She looked back at the two women who tended her. Mrs Ward and Helen, her helper, had both been so kind when she’d first arrived, telling her how lucky she was, but now they were the centre of her torture.
“I’m so hot,” she moaned.
There was a moment’s brief relief from the fiery heat as Helen mopped her brow with a cool cloth.
“You’re doing very well, Laura,” Mrs Ward soothed in her ear. “Nearly there, one more push should do it.”
Laura turned her head to tell Mrs Ward she’d said that before, but the pain swelled again and carried her with it on a wave of agony.
Strong arms supported her and once more the women urged her to push and finally it was over. She heard a faint cry.
“Well done, Laura.”
She opened her eyes.
Mrs Ward was wrapping the baby in a cloth. “You have a beautiful son.”
Laura’s lips cracked as she smiled. “Johannes?”
“Mr Crawford was going to try to get word to him.”
“Sip this.”
Helen’s strong arms supported her and she tried to swallow. The cool water flowed into her mouth and over her chin. Mrs Ward laid the baby on her chest. She looked down at the scrunched face of her son and was instantly in love. If only the pain didn’t still tug at her body.
She heard the two women murmuring together but her eyes were only for her son.
Mrs Ward put a firm hand on Laura’s shoulder and smiled kindly at her. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Helen remained at Laura’s side. Laura wished she wouldn’t. Helen’s hands kept kneading her stomach and that made the pain return.
William looked up as Mrs Ward came back into the room. They had arrived in the dark in the early hours of the morning. Mrs Ward had already been up attending to someone else. She had examined Georgina while he waited outside. Then her assistant had come and hurried her away. William had entered the room where his wife lay on a bed. She had looked so pale against the white bedsheets and her eyes were wide with dread. He had sat beside her and taken her hand, feeling her hold tighten as each new pain gripped her body.
Mrs Ward smiled brightly. “How are we in here?”
“Not good, I’m afraid.” Georgina’s voice was stoic. “The baby is definitely coming, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Mrs Ward took Georgina’s other hand. “We are here to help.”
“It’s too soon.”
William felt so helpless at the big tears that rolled down her cheeks.
There was a tap on the door. It opened and Helen popped her head around. “I’m sorry, Mrs Ward, but I need your help.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Mrs Ward gave him one of her kindly smiles and followed after Helen.
The door opened wider for them to exit and William was alarmed to see blood on Helen’s apron. Immediately he was back to his childhood and his parents’ bedroom. His mother had died having a baby. Fear gripped his heart. He glanced down at Georgina and was thankful her eyes were shut and she hadn’t seen it. Please Lord, he prayed. Don’t let Georgina die.
Laura heard voices murmur and the relentless kneading of her stomach resumed. Her position was shifted by faceless hands and she felt a whoosh of warmth flow from her body and surround her. She struggled to open her eyes. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone with her baby? Her eyelids fluttered. There was no baby on her chest. Had she dreamed him?
“My baby,” she croaked.
“It’s all right, Laura.” Mrs Ward’s breath was warm on her cheek. Laura had felt so hot and now she felt so cold. “Your son is safe in his bed. We will give him back to you soon.”
A blanket was tucked around her shoulder and she nestled her head into its soft warmth. The voices were still talking but they were more distant now. Her lips tingled and her head spun. She was slipping, she didn’t know where, but her body felt light. There was a faint cry. Johannes would be so pleased to have a son. Laura smiled. She relaxed and let herself float.
William could not stand the waiting. He wished he could be with Georgina, but they had ushered him outside. The sun had risen on a new summer’s day, which would thankfully be cooler than the previous though still there was a promise of heat in the early-morning sunshine.
“Mr Baker.” He stopped his pacing and turned at Helen’s call. “You can come in now.”
He was pleased to see the fresh apron she had donned to attend Georgina was still free of blood at least. He wanted to ask how his darling was, but Helen walked stiffly ahead of him along the hall.
He slowed as he approached his wife’s door. Helen opened it for him, then shut it again as he stepped inside. Georgina was lying propped against some pillows, her face blotchy and her eyes wet with tears. His relief at seeing her overwhelmed him for a moment.
“William,” she whispered.
Spurred into action by her sorrowful call, he strode to her side.
“Our son …” She turned her head to where Mrs Ward was bent over a small table in the corner of the room. “Our son was too small.”
When Mrs Ward turned she held a tiny bundle in her hands.
“I’m so sorry, Mr Baker,” she said. “He was just too early.”
Georgina reached out her arms. “Let me hold him.”
Mrs Ward looked on them with such a kindly gaze. He could see she shared their sorrow. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Please,” Georgina gasped.
Overcome by the desperation in his wife’s plea, he went to the woman holding their baby. “Please, Mrs Ward. Just a few minutes.”
“Very well.”
She handed him the bundle; it felt so light he could barely believe there was anything inside. She lifted the corner of the blanket and tucked it under the tiny chin. William gazed at the wizened face of his son and felt his own tears warm on his cheeks.
Mrs Ward moved quietly from the room. William sat beside Georgina and she took the tiny bundle from his arms. He held her while she sobbed. They were both sitting quietly gazing at their baby when Mrs Ward returned to take him away. Once she had gone Georgina’s body shook with her sobs. Helpless in the face of her deep sorrow he lay down beside her and wrapped her in his arms.
Johannes stood for a long while just staring at his wife. He always called her an angel and she looked like one now, laid out under a white sheet with her dark hair neatly brushed around her pale face. Finally, the tears came and he knelt at her bed, his head beside hers, one hand on her shoulder.
“My dear sweet, Laura,” he murmured. “What have I done to you? I promised nothing would hurt you. I should have been here, and now it’s too late. You’ve left me.” He reached under the sheet for her cold lifeless hand, closed his eyes and wished he were with her.
Much later the door opened behind him, but he didn’t move. A hand pressed gently on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Mr Becker, but we can’t keep her here any longer.” Mrs Ward squeezed his shoulder. “The undertaker is waiting.”
Johannes closed his eyes, breathed deeply and struggled to his feet. His legs had gone numb and he began to fall. Mrs Ward’s hand gripped his arm and she supported him against her shoulder.
“I have your wife’s things in the sitting room, Mr Becker,” she said. “Let me take you there. And I expect you will be eager to see your new son.”
Johannes cast one last look at his dear sweet angel. The child she had so badly wanted had killed her. Pain knifed through his chest. He turned away and went with Mrs Ward to the sitting room.
She placed a cup of tea on the table beside his chair but he ignored it.
“Your wife was carrying this bag when she came to us, Mr Becker.” Mrs Ward placed a calico bag on his lap. “We put Laura back in her dress, but there was a letter in the pocket which I have put in the bag with her boots and her locket. I hope you don’t think me presumptuous, but I cut a small lock of your wife’s hair and put it in the locket. I thought perhaps you might like that. Or the child.”
Johannes stared at a flower in the pattern of the mat. He heard the words but they didn’t sink in.
“Helen is bringing your son.”
“No.” The word came out more forcefully than he’d intended. “Perhaps later. I don’t want to see him now.”
“We must find someone to look after him.”
“Yes.” Johannes said. “Good idea.”
“Have you family that could help?”
“No.”
“What about your wife’s family?”
Johannes felt himself rousing as if he had come out of a deep sleep. He lifted his gaze to meet Mrs Ward’s worried look. “No. They will not touch one hair on the child’s head.” A sudden sense of urgency swept over Johannes. “Where is he?’ He struggled to his feet, the bag falling to the floor. “Where is the baby?”
“He’s here, Mr Becker.”
Mrs Ward stepped back to reveal her assistant holding the baby. She beckoned her forward.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr Becker.” Mrs Ward gave him a gentle smile. “But you have the most beautiful son.”
Helen lifted the baby and leaned towards him.
Johannes looked at the tiny face and once more the pain of Laura’s loss ripped through him like a knife. Here before him was the reason she had left him.
“No!”
The anguish of his cry startled even him.
Johannes staggered backwards, gripped his head in his hands and sobbed.
A loud cry forced William’s eyes open. He sat up and glanced back at his wife. He had been dozing but she was still in a deep sleep. The sun was bright behind the curtain. He put a hand to his eyes then edged himself from Georgina’s side and went to the door. All was quiet out there now. He prayed the other mother and baby had survived.
He stepped back at a soft tap and the door opened.
Mrs Ward entered. “I’m glad you’re still here, Mr Baker.” She kept her voice low and glanced over his shoulder. “How is your wife?”
“Exhausted.”
“Mentally though, is she a strong woman?”
William thought it an odd question. Did Mrs Ward think Georgina might lose her mind over her loss?
“In other circumstances I would say yes, Mrs Ward. She has lost so many babies and yet gone on. But because this baby kept growing we allowed ourselves to hope he might live. I don’t know how she will recover from this.”
“I understand, Mr Wiltshire. This is such a terrible time, but I have an enormous favour to ask.” She drew him closer. “I have a baby whose mother has just died giving birth.”
William recalled the bloodied apron and his heart went out to the family that had lost their wife and mother.
“The baby’s father has rejected it and I must try to do my best for it. I wondered if your wife might nurse it.”
“Someone else’s baby?” William was appalled. “After all she’s been through. You can’t ask my wife to do that.”
“What’s the matter?” Georgina struggled to sit up, her eyes blinking at them.
“Nothing, my love.” He strode over and put a protective arm around her shoulders.
“What can’t you ask me to do, Mrs Ward?”
William shook his head at the woman but she approached the bed.
“I have a motherless baby, Mrs Baker.” She lowered her gaze then fixed it on Georgina. “And you are a mother without a baby. I had hoped you might consent to suckle the little mite.”
William felt Georgina stiffen beneath his arm.
Mrs Ward went on. “The baby’s father is inconsolable and has said he wants nothing to do with it. The family are friends of yours, I believe.”
Georgina sucked in a breath. “Not Laura?”
Mrs Ward came to stand beside them. “I’m afraid so.”
“Oh,” she wailed and buried her face in William’s chest.
“I’m sorry.” Mrs Ward shook her head. “It’s just the poor little babe could do with some love.”
“You can’t ask this of Georgina,” William growled. “Not after losing her own.”
“Can I see him?”
“Georgina.” William removed his arm and stepped back from the bed.
“It’s Laura’s baby, William.” She looked to Mrs Ward. “I don’t know if I can do it. But perhaps if I see the baby …”
“Very well.” Mrs Ward turned on her heel and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
“Don’t be angry, William,” Georgina said.
He took her in his arms. “I’m not angry. I just can’t bear the thought of you suffering any further.”
“Perhaps this will help me.”
“How can it?”
The door opened behind them and William stood back as Mrs Ward carried another small bundle to his wife.
They both leaned in to look at the baby. His hair was fine and fair with a hint of ginger. He had a button nose and his mouth opened in a yawn. Then his eyelids fluttered.
With that Georgina reached for him. “I’d like to try to nurse him.”
“I shall stay with you and help.” Mrs Ward turned to William. “Why don’t you pop down to the kitchen, Mr Wiltshire? One of the girls will make you a cup of tea.”
Once more feeling totally lost William did as she suggeste
d. He sat hunched over his mug at the kitchen table while two young women went about cleaning up after lunch. They had offered him food but he declined. His appetite had deserted him. There was so much sorrow in this house William wondered how Mrs Ward could stand her work.
Fifty-nine
March 1914
The first days of autumn were no different from the last days of summer. A heavy heat pressed down from a clear blue sky and Hawker baked.
Edith was dusting the glasses on the dining-room dresser. She felt tired and hot and was not making much of a job of it. At least the three older children were at school, and Emma was down for her afternoon nap. Charles had come home for lunch and was now dozing in his chair.
“If only I could sleep that easily,” she huffed.
She saw a movement on the path outside just seconds before she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the front verandah. She peeped through the lace curtain, careful not to touch it. At the sight of the visitor she stepped back. Johannes Becker had come at last. They had heard about Laura’s death of course, and the motherless child. Edith had immediately decided the boy could live with them.
Charles had been appalled at first. He had thought her ridiculous to want another child, especially one who was not theirs. Edith had quickly set him straight. If it was ever found out that their house was Laura’s then surely they could continue to live in it if they cared for Laura’s son. She had worried a while that Johannes would try to look after the boy himself, then she’d heard Georgina Baker, who had lost her baby, was staying at her mother’s house and caring for the child. In desperation Edith had written to Johannes, saying Laura’s baby should be looked after by family.
Over a month had gone by since then and she thought perhaps her plan had failed but here was Johannes Becker arriving at her door.
“Charles,” she hissed. “Charles!”
He snorted and blinked bleary eyes at her. “What is it, Edith?”
“Wake yourself up. We have company.”
By the time she had ushered Mr Becker inside she was pleased to see Charles standing, his shirt tucked in and a welcoming look on his face.
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