There was silence in the room save for the clock ticking and the kettle humming on the hob, and outside a lone seagull cried mournfully. For a long moment the two women stared at Kate, and then Rosie’s face crumpled and she let out a cry that pierced Kate’s heart, for it echoed her own foreboding. She went and knelt before the girl, grasping her hands as they twisted in her lap, while Beth stood by, not moving, as if she had not really taken in the dreadful news.
‘Listen, Rosie, listen. His plane has been posted missing, but that doesn’t mean he’s – he’s dead. He could have baled out. Anything. You mustn’t give up hope. None of us.’ She looked up at Beth in mute appeal for help, but Beth was stunned. Woodenly, she moved to sit in the Windsor chair that had been her husband’s. The husband she had lost so recently. And now perhaps she had lost her son. Beth gripped the wooden arms tightly and stared unseeingly in front of her.
Kate scrambled to her feet. Grannie Harris, next door, she’d fetch her. Then she remembered. Poor Grannie Harris could hardly walk now and spent most of her day in a bed under the kitchen window, so, as she said herself, she could ‘still look out an’ see what’s going on’.
Kate bit her lip. Rosie was rocking backwards and forwards, wailing horribly, a high-pitched noise that went right through Kate.
There was only one person she could fetch to help; her mother, Esther Godfrey.
What was it Danny had said, she thought wryly as she ran back towards Brumbys’ Farm, her feet flying across the turf. ‘They never speak to one another, but when there’s trouble, real trouble, they come together.’ Well, Kate thought, there was ‘real trouble’ now right enough.
‘Of course I’ll come at once,’ Esther said without hesitation and only paused to issue instructions to her husband.
‘I’ll manage the milking, Esther love, you go,’ Jonathan said calmly.
‘Poor Beth,’ Esther murmured as she hurried along the lane beside Kate. ‘To lose her husband and her son so close together, to say nothing of . . .’
‘We don’t know he’s dead yet, Mam. That’s what I’m trying to get them to believe.’
Her mother eyes were sharp as she looked into Kate’s face. ‘Do you believe it?’
‘I’ve got to,’ Kate muttered, ‘else I’ll go out me head an’ all.’
They couldn’t stop Rosie crying. They tried everything – comforting her, talking to her, hugging her, even, in the end, Esther being quite firm with her. But to no avail. She sat rocking, her arms around her bulging stomach, sobbing at first, then wailing loudly and then leaning back exhausted against the back of the chair, the tears just pouring silently down her cheeks.
Where they failed with Rosie, Esther succeeded with Beth. For a couple of hours she had sat in the chair on the opposite side of the range, gripping the arms until her knuckles showed white, staring ahead of her at nothing in particular.
At last, Esther, after trying soothing words of sympathy which didn’t work, stood in front of Beth. Her feet set apart, hands on hips, Esther Godfrey went into action.
‘Now look here, Beth Eland, this ain’t no good. You’ve lost a good man, I know that, and you’re worried sick about young Danny. But as Kate says, we’ve got to hope for him yet. Now you mun think on yar grand-bairn. Ya’ve got to help us with Rosie . . .’ Esther stood a moment watching Beth for any sign of a response. There was none.
Kate saw her mother glance across at her, raising her shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. ‘I’m sorry, Katie,’ she murmured. ‘There’s nothing for it. There’s one way to bring her out of it, but it’s – it’s a bit brutal.’
Kate watched Beth for a moment. The woman was in a kind of trance. ‘Do whatever you have to, Mam.’
Esther took a deep breath and leaned forwards, her face close to Beth’s. ‘It’s yar grand-bairn, Beth – yours and Matthew’s!’
Kate winced. Her mother had not been underestimating her own harsh tactics, but when Kate saw Beth blink and begin to focus her eyes upon Esther towering over her, she knew her mother had been right.
Now Beth’s hands loosened their panic-stricken grip on the chair and she reached towards Esther, who clasped her hands and chafed them between her own. ‘That’s it, Beth. Come on, lass.’
Kate stifled a half-hysterical giggle. To hear her mother call Beth Eland ‘lass’ was comical and yet, she thought, perhaps they do still see each other as girls. Girls who might, once upon a time, have been friends.
‘Oh, Esther.’ Beth spoke for the first time since Kate had broken the news to them. ‘How am I to bear it?’
Esther just patted her hand, unable, for once, to think of anything to say.
Kate’s attention swivelled suddenly back to Rosie as the girl gave a gasp that was nothing to do with weeping. Rosie was bending over and clutching her stomach. ‘Oh – it hurts!’
‘Mam . . .’ Kate began, but already Esther had turned from Beth back to Rosie.
‘Where, lass?’
‘Here.’ Rosie smoothed her hands round her abdomen and down her groin. ‘It’s all right,’ she sniffled, ‘it’s going off now.’
Esther watched her for a moment as the girl relaxed, sat up again and leaned back in the chair. Then Esther glanced back at Beth. ‘Is everything ready?’ she asked quietly.
Kate watched as Beth’s eyes widened, but understanding immediately, the woman nodded. ‘In the other room . . .’ She nodded to the door leading out of the kitchen to the only other downstairs room in the cottage. ‘Rosie sleeps in there. We—’ She hesitated and then corrected herself. ‘I – sleep in the little room upstairs.’ So fresh was Beth’s widowhood that she still sometimes forgot.
‘Kate – run and tell yar dad to fetch either the doctor or the midwife. It dun’t matter which, but I want one of ’em to take a look at her. She’s had a bad shock and with all this crying, she could be going into labour. I aren’t as practised as Grannie Harris – I could use a little advice.’
Kate was off and running, and, having delivered her breathless message, was soon sprinting back towards the row of cottages at the Point.
Esther had got Rosie into the other room and had made her lie on the bed by the time Kate arrived back, just in time to hear the girl give another scream, her eyes wide with fear.
‘Oh – it hurts. I dun’t want it, if it’s going to hurt like this.’
‘There’s not a lot ya can do about it now, lass. Ya can’t leave it in there for ever,’ Esther said briskly, but not unkindly. She turned to look at Kate hovering uncertainly in the doorway. ‘Wash yar hands well, Kate, and come and help, will ya? Beth, get the kettle going. I could use a cup ‘o tea, if nothing else.’
Kate hesitated for a fraction of a second, recoiling at the irony of the situation. She had hated Rosie for marrying Danny and now here she was being forced to help her bring his child into the world. Really, she thought, scrubbing her hands under the pump over the sink, life isn’t fair!
When she went back into the bedroom, Rosie was rolling from side to side on the bed, clutching her stomach and squealing.
Kate went to stand beside her, feeling helpless and inadequate.
‘Let’s get her clothes off and get her into her nightdress before the doc or the nurse comes,’ Esther said.
‘No – leave me alone,’ Rosie said petulantly. ‘I want Danny!’ and she began wailing again.
Gradually, by alternately coaxing and being firm with her, Esther and Kate got her undressed.
‘Mam, the bed’s all wet.’
‘Oh heck, ’er waters have broken. Go an’ tell Beth . . .’
But at that moment Beth opened the door. ‘Esther, Jonathan’s here. He says the doctor’s out on his rounds and the nurse is with a woman and can’t leave her for about an hour . . .’
‘Well, someone’ll have to come, ’er waters have broken.’
Beth disappeared for a moment and they heard the deep rumble of Jonathan’s voice, the outer door open and close, and Beth came back into the room, her worried
eyes going immediately to the girl still writhing in agony on the bed.
‘He – he’s gone back to town to get someone to come.’
Kate saw the look that passed between her mother and Beth – a long look of shared memories from which Kate was excluded. ‘Least it’s not snowing this time,’ Esther murmured, and the two women smiled a little sadly at each other.
‘I don’t want it!’ Rosie was screaming. ‘I don’t want it!’
Kate, still standing beside the bed, bent over her. Something inside her snapped. “Course you want it. It’s Danny’s baby. Don’t you dare say you don’t want Danny’s baby, Rosie Eland!’ she yelled back at Rosie, while out the corner of her eye she saw her mother nodding her approval.
‘That’s it, lass, get her good and mad, then she might do a bit o’ work.’
Rosie’s screams were stilled in shock. She gazed up at Kate with big round eyes, her lips parted in a gasp of surprise.
‘That’s better,’ Esther encouraged. ‘Now, just try to calm down a bit, lass, and do as I tell you. Mebbe I bain’t a midwife, but I’ve brought plenty of calves and piglets into the world. A babby can’t be that different. Prop her up against the pillows, spread your legs open, Rosie. That’s it – now ya forming, lass.’
‘Oh – oh!’ Rosie gasped, and held out her hand to Kate. ‘Katie – it – hurts!’
‘It’s all right, Rosie,’ Kate said gently now. ‘Hang on to me, grip as hard as you like if it helps, but do what me mam tells you. Please, Rosie, for – for Danny.’
Rosie pressed her lips together and nodded. ‘I’ll try, Katie.’
‘Next time you feel a pain swelling, Rosie, try a little push,’ Esther said.
Rosie nodded. ‘Oh, it’s – starting again.’
‘Push, Rosie.’
Gripping Kate’s hand, Rosie pushed, and Kate found herself straining too.
Together they were going to bring Danny’s child into the world.
Thirty-Five
‘I wish that midwife would come,’ Esther murmured. ‘The head’s born, so the rest won’t be long.’
‘Oh – oh,’ squeaked Rosie as pain engulfed her once more.
‘Push, push,’ said Kate and her mother in unison.
‘I – am! Ooh . . .’
‘There!’ Esther was triumphant, as if she had done it all herself. ‘Beth, quick, come and see! Rosie, lass, you have a son.’
Rosie was weeping with relief now and Kate found that tears were coursing down her own face as she cradled Rosie’s head against her and wiped the strands of blonde hair, wet with sweat, from her forehead.
It was at that moment that the midwife walked through the door.
‘Oh Kate, I’m all mixed up. I don’t know whether I’m happy or – or sad.’
Rosie was sitting up in bed now, propped against pillows with her son in her arms, flushed and triumphant, yet her eyes still filled with ready tears.
‘Be happy, Rosie. It’s what Danny would want,’ Kate said softly, and touched the soft wispy black hair on the baby’s head tenderly.
‘You – you don’t believe he’s dead, do you?’
Kate shook her head. ‘No, I—’ she began and then corrected herself, conscious of Rosie’s feelings. ‘We’d know. We’d feel it.’
Rosie shifted the baby in her arms. ‘Do – do you want to hold him, Kate?’
Kate smiled and held out her arms. ‘Yes, please, Rosie.’
Sitting holding Danny’s son in her arms was the strangest feeling. Danny’s child; a child that might – had circumstances been different – so easily have been hers. She felt a protectiveness towards the tiny baby boy, a closeness and a flood of love.
‘What are you going to call him?’ Kate asked.
‘Robert – after Danny’s father.’
Kate nodded and said softly, ‘Beth will like that.’ Although she knew the facts, Rosie didn’t seem to remember so readily that Robert Eland had not been Danny’s natural father. But then, she was that much younger than Danny and Kate and had not even the haziest memory of Matthew Hilton. It was quite natural that Rosie should always think of Robert Eland as Danny’s father.
Tears glistened in Kate’s own eyes as she looked up at Rosie again. ‘I’ve just realized – I’m his aunt.’
Rosie’s eyes widened as now she, too, remembered. ‘Of course you are – I was forgetting. Yes – his only aunt.’
She was, Kate thought. Although Rosie was the eldest of five children, all the others were boys.
‘Kate – er—’ Rosie twisted the sheet in her fingers. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Mmm,’ Kate said absently, her attention back on the baby who was beginning to stir. He whimpered and Rosie took him back into her arms and offered him her breast.
‘Would you – I’d love it if you – and I know it’s what Danny would – want . . .’
Kate looked up and grinned. ‘Yes, of course I will.’
Rosie’s eyes widened. ‘Will what? I haven’t asked you yet?’
‘Be his godmother.’
‘How did you know that was what I was going to ask?’
‘Well, you were, weren’t you?’
Rosie nodded and the tiny room was suddenly filled with their laughter.
For the first time, Kate was reluctant to return to Suddaby, and yet she was anxious to see Philip again. She had so much to tell him. She could talk to Philip for he knew all about her. She longed to tell him how she had made up with Rosie and how the birth of their baby had, in a strange way, helped her.
As she stepped off the train, she saw him waiting on the platform, standing tall and dignified in his uniform, a slight frown creasing his forehead. It gave her a shock to see him there. Yet a thrill of pleasure ran through her seeing him unexpectedly; it was as if her own eagerness to see him had brought him there.
As she walked towards him, she reasoned with herself. His being here is nothing to do with you, she told herself sharply. He’ll have come to catch a train . . .
‘Kate!’ He was coming towards her, his hands outstretched, and, oblivious of onlookers, he took her in his arms and held her close. ‘Oh, Kate, how I’ve missed you.’
She clung to him, feeling the warmth and the strength of him.
They drew apart reluctantly. She was embarrassed by his public display, but he was grinning with happiness at seeing her again and obviously didn’t care what anyone else was thinking.
‘Are you catching a train?’
‘Eh? Oh no, just meeting one.’
‘You – you mean, you came to meet me?’ she gasped.
‘Yes. I’ve missed you so much. I couldn’t wait any longer. I was even rash enough to ask Mavis what train you might be on. I’ve only been waiting on this draughty station for two hours!’
Lost for words, Kate just stared at him, her mouth half-open.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ It was the same question he’d asked her when he’d engineered her posting as his driver.
‘Well, of course not, but . . .’
‘Then stop dithering, woman,’ the grin was back, ‘and let’s get to the car and into the countryside where I can kiss you properly.’
They hurried out of the station and Kate drove recklessly up the hill out of the city. A few miles from Suddaby she turned the car down a bumpy track leading deep into a wooded area that had become their secret hideaway. They were hungry for each other, desperate with desire that their separation had fuelled . . .
Afterwards they sat together in the back seat of the car, cool beneath the shadows of the trees with only the sounds of the breeze whispering through the leaves and of birdsong from the high branches.
Philip glanced at his watch. ‘We’d better be making a move soon.’
‘Is there an operation on tonight?’ she asked.
‘No, we’ve been stood down. Widespread fog is forecast. But I have been away from the station rather a long time on unofficial business,’ he chuckled. ‘I ought to be getting back.’
/>
‘Has everything been all right?’ she asked. ‘No more air raids?’
‘No – we’ve had a very quiet time. Some might say too quiet.’ He paused and then asked, gently, ‘How were things at home?’
Kate sighed. ‘Poor Rosie. She was hysterical. She went into labour and I stayed with her all the time.’
His arms tightened around her. ‘It must have been very difficult for you.’
‘No,’ she said, and there was still surprise in her voice. ‘It helped – really it did. Funny, isn’t it, after all the fuss I made? Although maybe it’s also because I have you now,’ she added realistically.
‘Oh, Kate.’ His voice was hoarse and he buried his face against her hair.
‘There hasn’t—’ she began hesitantly. ‘You haven’t heard anything about – about Danny’s aircraft?’ She felt compelled to ask and yet she knew the answer. Philip would have told her at once if there had been news of any sort.
He held her close and said softly, ‘No, my dear. I’m so sorry, but we’ve heard nothing.’
They sat quietly together in the peace of the woodland for a few moments longer, then Philip kissed her gently and sighed regretfully. ‘I’m sorry, darling, but we really must go.’
Kate reached for her jacket and got out of the back seat of the car.
‘Oh no!’ she groaned as she noticed that the car was lurching drunkenly to one side. ‘We’ve got a puncture.’
Philip got out of the car and stood looking down at the flat tyre. He ran his hand distractedly through his short hair. ‘Oh, hell! We can hardly explain away being stuck in the middle of the wood. Now what are we going to do?’
‘Do? Change the wheel, of course.’
He looked at her blankly for a moment and then shook his head and frowned. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t . . .’
Mischievously, she gave him a mock salute. ‘Oh, but I can – sir! What do you think they taught us in MT training?’
His worried expression cleared a little. ‘Can you really . . .?’
The Fleethaven Trilogy Page 73