Cross Stitch

by Amanda James

  Sarah dabbed at her nose. ‘Where?’

  ‘Nowhere. Fooled yer!’

  John received a withering look. ‘Right tell me what you found out before I pour coffee on your head.’

  John pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. ‘Okay, you were right about the double save bit. Ollie and Gerry. But the main reason you were pulled back with Veronica was because if you hadn’t, she’d have never become a fantastic Stitch.’

  ‘Eh … she became a fantastic Stitch? Old scaredy pants and “I look after number one” Ratchet?’

  ‘Yup. She went on loads of stitching missions, was allowed to keep her memory, married Edward and lived happily ever after. Seems like she deserved it after the merry dance her mother led her, poor cow.’

  John briefly told Sarah about the way Veronica’s mother had treated her.

  ‘Blimey, no wonder she was a bit spiky. Talking of spiky, why wasn’t Veronica dressed as a punk?’

  ‘Can you imagine how freaked out she’d be if she’d looked in a mirror. She nearly had a meltdown as it was!’ John laughed. ‘Anyway, the main thing is you gave her confidence to try and save Gerry and save countless others later. Seems a little speech you did about why holes open and the thread of humanity and stuff really struck home. She greatly admired you, Sarah, wanted to emulate you.’

  Sarah blushed and her eyes moistened. ‘Can’t see why, I was hardly the nicest person. All I could think of was getting home to you.’

  John put his hand over hers. ‘That’s not surprising, love. You were under so much pressure just whisked off like that.’

  ‘And have they explained how that happened? Why everything went crazy?’

  ‘No. They aren’t sure, still. My dad reckons that they don’t have total control over time and space, they are like guardians of time really, but they can direct. Same as Needles and Stitches, they can’t coerce people to do stuff. “Time waits for Norman” is a good example of that. We have to want to do it.’

  A snort escaped Sarah’s nose. ‘Yeah, right. I couldn’t wait to be dragged from my wedding to 1939 and then dumped again in 1979.’

  John spread his hands and nodded. It didn’t sound logical to him either. Sarah regarded him across the table her mouth pursed into a rosebud. She looked as if she were gearing up for more difficult questions, so he jumped in first.

  ‘Talking of 1979, do you want to know what happened to Ollie and Gerry?’

  Sarah brightened. ‘Of course. Hope it was good.’

  ‘Yep, it was fab. Gerry was reunited with her son, trained as a teacher and married a really lovely guy, an artist who influenced her son. The son grew up to be a world famous graffiti artist making influential social comment through his work.’

  ‘You mean Jinksy?’

  ‘Yep, the very same! And Ollie married Sarah, they had three kids. One of the kids is making a real difference in the developing world. He’s instigated an innovative charity that raises money for education and social welfare, mainly in India and South America, I think. So lives are being enriched and I guess saved daily because of his efforts.’

  ‘That is so brilliant and if I hadn’t have made his dad late for a drug deal he might never have been born.’ Sarah beamed.

  John lifted her hand to his lips. ‘That’s right, my little swamp duck. So missing the wedding, contending with a rampaging Ratchet in your classroom, being catapulted back to 1979 and finding yourself with two foot spikes for hair, sent on a mission to a suspension bridge to talk down a suicide attempt … all that was plain sailing. So brilliant, yes?’

  Sarah thumped him on the arm. ‘Don’t push it, pal.’

  John was relieved to find that his and Sarah’s life returned to normal over the next few weeks, well as normal as their life ever could get. The last few days, however, Sarah had begun to look drawn and she complained of stomach cramps. He virtually had to drag out of her that morning that she had been feeling dizzy and sickly of late too. She hadn’t told him as she didn’t want him fussing. She thought it was perhaps just stress and being busy at school. Well, fussing or no, he decided that it was time he tackled this head on.

  John found her in the garden hanging out the washing. He watched her closely for a few seconds and as she stretched to peg a shirt on the line he was afforded a good side view of her torso … yep she certainly looked as if she could—

  ‘Wanna give me a hand, handsome?’ she called.

  ‘A bit optimistic, aren’t you? Nearly November and black clouds rolling in over t’ hills?’

  Sarah gestured across the countryside. ‘The cows are still standing up, they’re optimistic too. Cows know about drying washing.’

  John walked over and handed her the pegs.

  ‘What’s up with you, pensive features?’

  This would be a good a time as any to broach the subject, John reckoned. ‘Erm … just thinking … you know this not feeling well thing, sickness, heartburn, cramp and stuff?’

  Sarah glanced at him and held her hand out for another peg. ‘Ye-s?’

  ‘It’s just that I think … well, not think exactly, but I feel it could be possible that …’ His voice tailed off. What if he was wrong, what if she was really ill … cancer or something?

  ‘Ye-s … spit it out.’ Sarah bent and selected a pair of jeans from the wash basket.

  John stretched and put both hands behind his head. Just go for it, at least it will all be out in the bloody open at last. ‘Sarah, could you be pregnant?’

  The jeans whacked him round the face as a sudden gust of wind turned the rotary clothesline into a weapon. She put her hand on the line to find a gap for her knickers. ‘I think I might have told you before now if I was, my love.’ She gave him a sad little smile. ‘I did think that at first, too, but my periods have been as regular as clockwork, more’s the pity.’

  John felt two lead weights thump into his stomach. One courtesy of the fact that the hopes he’d held since his dad started all the hints about the other Stitch on their wedding day had been dashed, and two, because he was now really concerned about some sinister illness. Then a thought occurred.

  ‘Oh, right. But I hadn’t noticed them getting in the way of sex though?’

  ‘That’s because they have been quite light and only a few days or so in duration. But that happens with me from time to time.’ Sarah put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. ‘If there was the slightest possibility, don’t you think I would have told you – shouted it from the rooftops?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s why I haven’t said anything before now. I wanted you to be the one to spring it on me all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,’ he muttered, kissing the top of her head. He felt her grow rigid in his arms.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, then,’ she snapped and pulled away.

  Great, John. Step all over her feelings with your big size tens. That’s the last thing he wanted to do. ‘Oh, sorry, love. That came out all wrong,’ John said to his wife’s retreating back. ‘But I want you to get a check-up. Whatever is making you ill needs sorting.’

  ‘I told you, it’s probably overwork and stress.’ Sarah flounced through the patio doors and into the kitchen. ‘Comes with the territory of teaching.’

  John caught up with her at the kitchen sink, gently took her in his arms and searched her face. Unshed tears stood in her eyes and he felt an ache begin in his heart. ‘You might be right, but I want to be sure. And I am so sorry. I’m such a big oaf for upsetting you like that. I know you want a child as much as me … probably more.’

  Sarah nodded allowing the tears to spill over and run down her cheeks. ‘I know. I’m sorry too. The symptoms are classic, but then the periods … I couldn’t let myself believe for one minute that I …’ she finished on a heartfelt sigh.

  John held her tight, stroked her hair, muttered platitudes, but the sadness surrounding her was almost palpable. It seeped into his pores and pumped up his own ball of misery until it grew large and heavy in his gut. B
ut what about the tales of the other Stitch who’s experience was so similar? What about the hedging of the powers when he’d asked them directly about Sarah’s condition. John figured it was time to tell her, even if it got her hopes up, he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. He released her and pulled out a chair. ‘Sarah let’s sit down and have a cuppa. I have a strange tale to tell.’

  ‘But why didn’t you tell me all that right away?’ Sarah flung her arms up in exasperation. ‘I knew you had the bloody ENF on, even though you said you didn’t.’

  ‘Because as I said outside earlier, I thought you would be the first to know and would want to be the one to tell me, not the other way around … especially not courtesy of the Spindly Ones. You would have loved that.’

  ‘Okay.’ Sarah sighed. ‘I can see that, but are you saying that all this Cross Stitch thing has happened because I could be pregnant, then?’ Sarah folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable.

  John shrugged. ‘It’s really unclear because as you know the powers wouldn’t tell me personal details … but I thought it could be part of the reason. Still … now you have told me your periods are regular, we must go to the doctor’s, okay?’

  Sarah grimaced and shook her head. ‘You think I have a serious illness now, don’t you? Great.’

  ‘Probably not, love. But I’m not a doctor. We do need to get to the bottom of it.’ John reached for her hand. She gave it and he felt a tremble in her fingers.

  ‘Yes, okay,’ she said with a sigh. ‘And to tell you the truth, I’ve been worried sick too. I’ll try and get an appointment for this afternoon.’

  Dr Stewart regarded them over the rim of his spectacles, his kind brown eyes intense. He’d given Sarah a thorough examination and now held the urine sample that Sarah had just presented him with. ‘Right you two, sit tight. Just going to test this, shouldn’t take a minute.’

  ‘What are you looking for, Doctor?’ Sarah said, gripping John’s hand so tight he thought she’d cut off all circulation.

  ‘This and that. I can’t find anything physically wrong with you, so I’m looking for sugar … and so forth.’ He turned and went to the other end of the room.

  ‘This and that … and bloody so forth?’ Sarah whispered to John. ‘Hardly a man of science, is he?’

  A few minutes later the doctor straddled a wheeled stool and shot himself across the floor towards them, barely concealed excitement on his face. ‘So do you want the good news or the good news?’ He paused to watch their tentative smiles spread across their faces. ‘Okay you don’t appear to have diabetes or kidney problems, everything looks normal.’

  John and Sarah looked at each other, and back at the doctor. He just sat on the stool and grinned at them inanely. Was that it? Wasn’t he going to say more?

  John cleared his throat. ‘So what’s causing the problems, doc?’

  ‘From what you’ve told me I very much doubt that it’s going to be seen as a problem, in fact quite the contrary.’

  ‘For goodness sake, tell us,’ Sarah said, a tremor in her voice.

  ‘You, my dear, are pregnant.’ Dr Stewart chuckled and held out his hand to them both. ‘Congratulations, you are going to be parents.’

  As if in a dream, John watched him shake hands with Sarah and then felt his own hand being pumped. ‘But … I—’ he began.

  ‘What about my periods?’ Sarah almost yelled.

  ‘It is uncommon, but not unheard of for a woman to have periods throughout the pregnancy. When you told me this earlier, along with the symptoms, I was already on that track, and then upon examining your abdomen, well …’ Dr Stewart’s grin grew wider ‘… the urine test confirmed my diagnosis.’

  John looked at Sarah and he saw his shock and joy reflected tenfold. She practically launched herself at him, laughing and crying at the same time. ‘Oh, John, John … I can’t believe it!’

  ‘Me either, but God, what fantastic news!’ John’s voice caught in his throat, his heart pounding adrenaline though his veins. He was going to be a dad, a dad!

  From somewhere up on the ceiling he heard Sarah ask, ‘So how many weeks … how can we tell if my periods are—’

  ‘We can’t. That’s why I’m sending you for a dating scan as soon as it can be arranged.’

  The past week had been the longest in their lives whilst waiting for the scan. Although they had been mostly floating on a cloud of euphoria, they were dying to tell friends and family, but daren’t jinx it until they had news that all was well. Sarah had convinced John to wait and he had to admit to himself that she’d been right. He knew exactly how Harry would have reacted. He would have been round there every few minutes, asking questions, getting onto the doctor to see if they could speed things up, asking if they had chosen any baby names, telling them stories about ‘he knew a woman who’ until they would have been driven mad by it all.

  But at last, now in the darkened scanning room, soon all would be revealed. John drew his chair closer to the bed and caught hold of Sarah’s hand. Their eyes locked as the nurse started the machine and slid the microphone over the jelly on Sarah’s tummy. All they could hear were a series of crackles and then John held his breath as on the screen above him the shape of a tiny foetus appeared. Then a second later, a faint but rapid, dub-a-dub-a-dub-a-dub and growing stronger by the second filled the room. A gasp escaped their lips simultaneously and then tears of joy streamed down Sarah’s face.

  ‘A heartbeat, John … oh my God.’

  John found himself swallowing and dashing at his eyes too … there was a beautiful child, their child.

  ‘Now, as you know, you will have your next scan at twenty weeks, so a little way to go.’ The nurse smiled and moved the microphone lower on Sarah’s abdomen. ‘I’ll have to take some measurements, but I would estimate you are around thirteen weeks, Sarah.’

  ‘Thirteen weeks!’ Sarah exclaimed. ‘Wow, that’s a shock, further than we thought, then.’ She looked shiny eyed at John.

  ‘Yes … and if I am not mistaken …’ The nurse moved the microphone again. ‘You’re in for another shock. There’s two of ’em in there.’

  John thought that someone had fiddled with his eardrums and switched them to fantasy mode. ‘W-hat did you say … two?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Needler, you are going to be the father of twins.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  The ‘little get together’ had grown into a monster. Enjoying a rare warm and sunny early November day, relatives and friends spilled into the garden, the field, the kitchen, the patio. In fact every little corner of the Needler’s cottage and surrounding land was heaving with those intent on celebrating their happy news.

  Once the shock of twins had sunk in, the two of them were crazy with happiness and decided to invite a few close friends and family over. Because they were so overjoyed, however, a few became thirty or so, but the atmosphere and feel-good vibes surrounding them today was so fantastic, it made up for the less than low-key affair they had planned.

  Sarah, comfy on the sofa, sipped lemonade and grinned at her mum over the rim of the glass. Gwen grinned back, flushed from the champagne and excitement of the occasion and prepared to trip another light fantastic across the patio with Harry.

  Harry had been like the cat who’d got the cream and a dog with two tails all rolled into one since he’d heard the news. There had been lots of ‘I told you so’s’, and ‘I knew a woman who’s,’ but mostly he’d just talked non-stop about how thrilled and tickled pink he was for them both.

  Both Gwen and Harry had shed a few tears with their respective offspring in private, because their great joy couldn’t be shared with Sarah’s dad or John’s mum, but for the most part, the last few days had been some of the happiest Sarah could remember. And now the party was like the wedding reception they had never had. Brill.

  Ella, her mouth full of party food, waved from the kitchen door and Sarah budged up to make way for her sister. She flopped down, her auburn ringlets boun
cing like springs, and nudged Sarah’s arm. ‘Great do, our kid.’

  Sarah smiled and slipped her arm through Ella’s. ‘It is, isn’t it? I am so happy I can’t tell you.’ Sarah searched her sister’s face. ‘And you seem much happier too these days, things better with Jason?’

  Sarah hoped so as Ella and Jason had come very close to splitting up a few months ago. He’d been unemployed for nearly a year and the poor guy had been almost destroyed by it.

  ‘Yes, thank goodness. They couldn’t have been much worse, as you know. Since he got this new job he’s a new man. Talking of which – they seem to be getting very friendly lately, have you noticed?’ She inclined her head towards Gwen and Harry and then searched Sarah’s face, her forget-me-not blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

  ‘What … you mean Mum … and John’s dad? Don’t be bloody daft, you’ve had one too many, I think.’

  ‘You look at them and tell me I’m wrong, then.’ Ella nodded her head at them again.

  Sarah glanced over and, blimey, she had to admit they did look quite cosy together. The fast track playing earlier had finished and now they were dancing a little closer to The Long and Winding Road. They weren’t full-on in each other’s arms having a smoocherama or anything, but Harry had his hand in the small of Gwen’s back and she had her right hand on his shoulder, her left hand clasped in his right as they swayed to the melody. Harry leaned forward and whispered something in Gwen’s ear and she tossed her tawny curls and giggled coquettishly. Bloody hell – her mum looked about twenty years younger and so did Harry.

  Sarah felt her sister’s elbow in her arm again. ‘Well. Am I right, or am I right?’

  ‘Er … I guess you might have something, but it’s never right is it?’ Sarah said. ‘I mean at their age, and she being my mum and him being John’s dad … I mean, it’s weird.’

  ‘Stop being such an old misery! They are only in their mid-sixties and Harry is still quite a handsome man in a Harrison Ford kind of way.’ Ella grinned. ‘And what does it matter about her being your mum and him being John’s dad? It would be better for the twins to have both grandparents married.’