by Millie Gray
‘From your kick in the teeth, I can hardly feel worse.’
‘What do you mean?’
She gave a derisory laugh. ‘You waltz in here and announce that you and your pal Sylvia are getting married in eight weeks and you expect me to be over the moon for you?’
Now it was his turn to laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I am not marrying Sylvia . . .’
‘So she, like me, got a dizzy?’
‘Kirsten, sweetheart, you know I’m not a man to take a woman for a fool. Don’t be daft, my love.’
‘Yes, I am daft. So daft that I believed you and I had something going for us and now . . .’ Try as she might she could not hold back the tears or the trembling in her legs. Before she could stop him Eddie took her into his arms and he guided her back through to the living room.
‘What a goose you are. Are you really asking me to believe that you think Sylvia and I could be an item?’ He laughed. ‘Don’t tell me that, as worldly as you would have me believe you are, you haven’t worked out that Sylvia’s lover is a woman.’
Kirsten’s sobs stopped immediately. Her mouth and eyes widened. ‘But you were always partnering each other. And she always looked so possessive.’
‘It was an act. We had an agreement. I needed a partner to stop questions and to keep other women from pestering me. And, well, Sylvia – she needed a cover. She’s ambitious and there are still plenty in high places who hold tight to their belief that a woman – let alone a lesbian – should not be promoted.’ He chuckled. ‘Or indeed even permitted to join the force.’
Kirsten was gobsmacked.
Eddie moved towards her and took her in his arms again. ‘Yes,’ he emphasised, ‘I am getting married on April the seventh, but it is to you, my love.’
‘But how?’ she gasped, genuinely taken aback. ‘You never asked me . . .’
‘Kirsten, have I not proposed to you, not only once, but on several occasions?’ She nodded, shyly. He continued, ‘But you are always saying once this is sorted, or that is sorted.’
She sniffled and wiped her eyes.
‘So I felt that I had to do it this way. My love, you would never have allowed us to get married because there would always have been someone or something that got in our way.’
But instead of his words comforting Kirsten her weeping became uncontrollable. ‘But . . . but . . . but you might not wish to marry me when I tell you . . . Eddie, I’m pregnant.’
‘Yes, I know. I was waiting for you to tell me.’
‘But you don’t understand.’
‘Of course I understand.’ He smiled and took her trembling hands in his. ‘I do hope you are not going to say that the baby is not mine.’
‘Oh Eddie, who else’s could this baby be?’
‘I know, and I am so happy. I’m over the moon, Kirsten.’ He beamed at her and then, his face more serious, he added, ‘And that is why we have to get married and very quickly at that.’
‘No. No,’ Kirsten protested. ‘Eddie, hear me out. You see, what if the baby is born underweight and I need to spend so much time with him or her. Could you cope with that?’
‘Kirsten, I am confused today,’ he said, drawing her closer. ‘First, you seem to have thought I was the kind of man who would lead Sylvia on for years and then just chuck her when I fell in love with you. Now you think that I would abandon my own flesh and blood. Don’t you realise you are the most important person in my life? I promise I will love our baby and stand by you even if the wee one is no bigger than a Tunnock’s tea cake? And while you are pondering what I have just said, can you let me know of any perfect human beings?’
Kirsten looked sheepish. ‘You’re right, we all have our foibles. But when Duncan left me because Dixie needed so much looking after . . . Look, I have been to a clinic and I could have an abortion but . . .’ She started to sob again. ‘It feels so much against my nature to do that, but if that is what you want then I could, I suppose, reconsider.’
‘Kirsten, your emotions are all up in the air. You are not thinking clearly. Of course you don’t want an abortion, and neither do I. Kirsten, I am forty-eight years old and I have always regretted not having a child. Why would I not grab the chance to be a father to our child when he or she arrives? And it won’t matter to me if they have . . .’ He seemed to hesitate to find the right words. ‘Brown eyes or blue, blond hair or black, a mole on their nose or freckles on their back. I will love this baby because we created it.’
Kirsten, through her tears, said, ‘Oh Eddie, we will get married in April then.’ She hesitated, taking the time to think logically. ‘But tell me, did the police tell you to marry me – or pack me in?’
‘Yes, I admit, they pointed me in that direction.’
‘So that’s why you are in such a hurry to put things right?’
‘No. I am my own man, and when I was advised that further promotion was dependent on me putting my house in order then I thought long and hard. I realised you were pregnant, and that eventually you would tell me. I felt sure you wouldn’t abort the child – the Kirsten I fell in love with would never do that. So I knew I would provide for you and the child. Not only now but in the future. And when the grim reaper summons me up you will receive a police widow’s pension! So, it all makes sense for us to get married. Besides I am too old for this part-time clandestine affair. I want you, Kirsten, in my life, in my home, as my wife and mother of my child.’
She rested her head on his shoulder and her sobs subsided.
‘That is it settled,’ he said, stroking her soft brown hair, ‘we shall marry in the first week of April.’
‘Hmm. But before you take me on you should know that I have had two proposals today.’
‘Two?’
‘Yes, two. And when I turned the first one down I was left with no hotel. No job. No visible means of support.’
‘Not to worry, my wages will keep us all. But I am curious, tell me – who else proposed to you today and what’s happened to your hotel.’
‘Well, when I was too ill to get to the hotel my ex-husband turned up and his mother put him in charge. Without as much as asking my leave she replaced me with him. You know, of course, she put up the money for our start-up, and the problem is she still is owed some of that money. If I could find the money, she suggested I could buy her out.’ She grimaced. ‘Jessie had reckoned I couldn’t borrow that amount of money without overstretching myself. Besides,’ she patted her stomach, ‘by the time she gave me the ultimatum I had decided to keep our baby, no matter what.’
‘So, she’s made you penniless?’
‘Not quite . . .’ Kirsten stopped to think. ‘They are going to pay me off. I think we should keep our wedding a secret until I get the money I deserve.’
‘For how long?’ Eddie asked, fearful that this was another Kirsten stall. ‘I have savings, so you don’t need to take the pay-off!’
‘Just two weeks – and, Eddie, I am due that money. Duncan left me high and dry. Now he has come back and walked into a very profitable business that was my idea. My hard work – okay, along with his mother’s – is what built it up. So, my dear, I am not walking away empty-handed.’ Her face now took on a hard look he had never seen before. ‘Allow that sod to walk away with all the winnings,’ she spat. ‘I will see him roasting in hell’s fires first.’
Eddie laughed. ‘Oh dear,’ he gasped. ‘Once we are married I must be sure not to cross you!’
*
Kirsten did get her pay off. Three times she had Jessie adjust the payment – upwards. The cheque was in the bank and cleared when she called at the hotel again.
‘If you are back to squeeze another penny out of me, you can think again,’ Jessie informed her as she folded her still beefy arms across her ample bosom.
‘No, no. The agreement we reached is fine by me. Wondered if Bea was going to be busy on April the seventh?’
‘You would need to ask her yourself.’
‘I would, but as she resides here now I never s
ee her. Anyway, please ask her if she would like to be a bridesmaid at my wedding.’
‘You’re getting married!’ Jessie panted as her complexion turned mottled red and blue. ‘And yet you took me for far more than I was prepared to pay to see the back of you!’
‘Yes. And to be honest I don’t really require that money. Going to squander it, I am. I’ll be taking delight in knowing that because no one else would employ him, you had to pay salt to get your spineless, useless son a job!’
*
Eddie had been so engrossed in recalling that Sunday when Kirsten confirmed that she – and the baby-to-be – would be his for all time that he had driven himself halfway home when he remembered he should have been going to Elsie Inglis Maternity Hospital. Of course, there were maternity facilities in East Lothian close to their home in Longniddry, but Kirsten was adamant that she would give birth in Elsie’s.
Reaching the junction at Fisherrow, he did a quick U-turn and then pointed his car back in the direction of Abbeyhill. He had just reached Eastfield traffic lights when his memories happily took him back to his wedding day.
Two weeks after he and Kirsten had agreed to marry they were having a quiet evening meal, when she blurted out, ‘Eddie, about our wedding?’
Fearing she was getting cold feet again, he answered, ‘Yes . . .’
‘Would you be very upset if I –’ She faltered.
‘Good heavens, you haven’t changed your mind?’
‘About our wedding, no. But the last time I got married it was in a registry office. This time, I am sure it will last my whole life through and I would like God’s blessing on it.’
‘Are you saying you have gone all religious like your mum,’ he teased her, ‘and would like a church wedding?’
‘Yes. With all the trimmings.’
‘And are you thinking of floating down the aisle in a sea of white?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said, though she did rather like the thought. ‘But I would like to have an elegant dress and bouquet. Only there is a problem . . .’
‘If it’s the money . . .’
‘No. The pay-off I got from Jessie is for frittering away, so I will use some of that. But the minister in my church does not marry divorcees, even if, like me, they are the innocent party.’
Eddie appeared to be lost in thought for a minute or two. ‘Does it matter where the church is?’
‘No. Just so long as you and I are able to marry there. You see, you are right, I am turning into my mother. I honestly believe if we could be wed by a minister, then our lives together would be blessed.’
Eddie bent his head so that she could not see him smile. He was not a religious man and he would have married Kirsten in a pigsty if that was where she wished the service to be. But he loved her and the church blessing was obviously important to her, so he would do his best to find a solution.
The minister at the lovely sandstone church in the village of Aberlady just happened to be a buddy of Eddie’s, as he’d known Anna’s father through golf. And so Eddie approached him, and before Eddie could finish the minister had agreed to marry them. Both men agreed that it was exceptionally fortunate that it just happened that on April the seventh there was no other wedding booked for his church.
Eddie sighed as he recalled how beautiful Kirsten had looked when she had strolled into church on her father’s arm.
The expensively tailored lilac dress with matching hat was exquisite. However, it was Kirsten’s radiance that outshone everything that day. Naturally, Molly and Jane were resplendent as the matron of honour and bridesmaid. Bea hadn’t responded to Kirsten’s invite; who knew if Jessie had even passed it on. Kilted like himself, Finlay McKenzie was his best man. As the wedding party made its way over to the hotel in the main street for a leisurely lunch everyone could see that this was Kirsten’s very special day. At last life was being kind to her.
For two weeks now she had felt fit and healthy. And, what was more important, she had for the past week felt her baby move within her. She was so excited that she insisted that Eddie place his hand on her stomach so that he too could feel that his baby was alive and starting to kick.
Baby, however, decided that allowing his mother to feel him move was one thing; his father was quite another. This being so, Eddie would just have to wait until the baby had another long, long sleep.
When eventually Eddie did feel the baby squirming, he was overcome with emotion. He and Anna had planned to have a family, but that was not to be. After Anna passed away, he’d given up hope of ever finding anyone to replace her – until Kirsten came along. Most men of his age were looking forward to being grandfathers, but to be a father, even at his advanced age, was to him a most welcome, incredibly precious gift.
Lost in a dream, Eddie was now at the crossing at Abbeyhill, which took you down to the maternity hospital. As he turned left to go down the brae, he breathed in deeply. He really was berating himself for having wasted twenty minutes. Home really was home now, that’s probably why he’d made the mistake. Home was where he quickly headed at the end of his shift. It was now where Kirsten would be waiting for him. He smiled when he thought how different the house was now. This was because Kirsten had put her own stamp on it. New carpets, new curtains, beds and bedding. She also had a smart new conservatory extension put on the back. In the evenings they would just sit there, sometimes saying nothing but both peacefully enjoying each other’s company. Their most frequent visitor, who seemed to divide her time between Balfour Street and Longniddry, was Jane.
Jane, who Eddie had grown to love, was such a loyal, fond daughter to her mother. Eddie then thought about Bea, whom he had tried to include in his family, but she was definitely her father’s girl – and, as such, a one-man woman with no space for anyone she saw as an interloper.
But now, all thoughts of the past were put on hold as Eddie drove into the car park. Getting to Kirsten was all he wished to do. Be with her, hold her hand, keep her safe when their child was born.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Earlier that day, at her new home in Longniddry, Kirsten awoke at five in the morning. The birds were chirping, but it was the niggling pain in her lower back that had awakened her. Before rising, she looked at Eddie, who was sleeping blissfully. No use, she thought, saying to him that I think that quite shortly I may be going into labour. Today, she knew, was the inspectors’ ‘greeting meeting’. A meeting that was very important to him, as it was where he found out exactly what was going on in his division. Besides, she could be wrong about the labour, and if she wasn’t she could always use some of the fritter-away money to summon a taxi to take her to Elsie’s.
By late morning Kirsten was on the phone demanding a taxi.
‘You in labour, hen?’ the taxi driver asked when Kirsten appeared at the door with her packed bag. Kirsten nodded. ‘Where to?’
‘Elsie Inglis.’
‘Elsie Inglis in Edinburgh?’ the man said as he scanned Kirsten’s swollen stomach and heard her gasp with pain as she struggled into the car. Kirsten nodded. ‘You are joking!’
‘No, Elsie’s is where I am bound.’
‘Fine, but you know I have no experience of delivering babies . . . So before we set out, are you sure we have time to get there? Don’t suppose you would change your mind and settle for one of the wee cottage hospitals down here?’
Kirsten laughed. ‘No need to worry. I’ve had three pregnancies and I can assure you I am still in the early stages of labour.’
The man grunted. ‘Aye well, all right then. But remember, if your baby decides to get a hurry-up on, you are on your own. Don’t mind being an agony aunt and listening to people’s woes, but midwifery is no’ for me.’ He stopped. ‘Think we had better take the coast road. Always a house on hand if . . . Look, let’s get a move on.’
Everything went according to plan until they were on the road to Musselburgh. It was then the pains started to come on every eight minutes. Squirming in her seat as the last contraction
abated, Kirsten leaned over and whispered to the taxi driver, ‘Now, please do not panic . . .’ But panic was what he did, and he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. ‘I still think we have time to get to the hospital, but not with . . . how could I put it . . . with as much –’ Another intense, shooting pain gripped her. ‘Time, to spare. Oh dear, oh dear.’
The gulping taxi driver responded with, ‘Would it not make more sense for me to double back and get you some help at the hospital on the Musselburgh back road? You know, Edenhall?’
‘No. I will be fine. Please, please believe me, I will hang on because I just have to get to Elsie’s. You see the nursery staff at Elsie’s were so good at looking after my son when he was born. So it is really important that I have this baby delivered there.’
‘Look, lady, that’s okay you saying that, but what if your bairn has decided that it wants to appear right now?’
‘My children are all obedient,’ she joked, ‘and he or she will hang on. But please do hurry.’
The cab driver was now sweating more than Kirsten, and so he put his foot down, and by jumping red lights and dodging in and out of traffic, he made it to the front door of Elsie’s.
Jumping out of the cab, he hollered, ‘Right, someone, there is woman here who needs you quick and I need you even quicker.’
As two kindly, starched nurses assisted Kirsten out of the car, she remembered she had not paid the taxi driver. ‘How much do I owe you?’ she gasped, as another pain fast on the heels of the last one gripped her.
‘Look, lady, when you are back home with your wee one, give me a call and I will collect my fare then. Right now, I’m out of this!’
One of the nurses at Kirsten’s side laughed. ‘You know, if men were to give birth then we would be a nation of single child families.’
And so Kirsten again found herself in the warm surroundings of Elsie Inglis. Just as she had hoped, the care and professionalism of the hospital staff was excellent. Before she knew it she was in the labour suite and was being given some gas and air. Lowering the mask, Kirsten grabbed for the midwife’s strong, capable hand. ‘Is there any chance the baby will hold on until my husband gets here?’