‘Yes. But never mind about that,’ Prue said. ‘Dr Bianchi, what do you need from us?’
‘Soap and hot water. And towels, as many towels as you can find – hot, if that is possible,’ Luca said, throwing off his tunic and unbuttoning his shirt cuffs. ‘If you have any brandy, that will be very welcome also.’ He turned back to Tilly, gentling his voice. ‘How long between your contractions, cara mia?’
‘I’m … not sure. They’ve been getting closer.’
‘I know,’ Prue said. ‘I’ve been timing them. There were five minutes between the last two.’
‘And they lasted how long?’ Luca asked.
‘A minute, or perhaps a little less.’
‘You would have made a splendid nurse, Mrs Hewitt,’ Luca said, managing a smile even though his face was drawn with worry. ‘Now. The towels, please.’
‘I’ll get them,’ Edie said, pushing aside her shock at what now seemed so obvious: the true paternity of her friend’s baby. Tilly hadn’t asked for Luca because he was a doctor. She’d asked for him because he was the father … her lover. ‘I can warm them in the oven. Prue, put the water on and I’ll be down with all the towels I can find in a moment.’
‘Keep one pan of water boiling,’ Luca instructed. ‘We shall need it for sterilisation.’
‘I’m so glad they let you come,’ Edie heard Tilly whisper to Luca as she left the room. ‘I wanted you so.’
Edie collected up all the towels in the linen cupboard then grabbed two that were hanging on hooks in the bathroom, along with a bar of toilet soap. When she went downstairs, Prue had lit the oven and three saucepans filled with water were simmering on the cooker.
‘Here, I’ll take those,’ Prue said, holding out her arms for the towels. ‘I brought one of the old sheets I use to cover the furniture. If we wrap them in that, we can warm them inside the oven without them getting dirty.’
Jack peered around the door.
‘How is she?’ he asked.
‘Better now she has a doctor,’ Prue said. ‘Are the bairns all right?’
‘Aye, coping. Frightened, but they’ve the little pup to comfort them. I’m making up a bed for them under the table. They feel safer there, and they won’t hear anything that might scare them.’
‘Yes, you better had. If the baby … if there’s bad news at the end of this, we don’t want them witnessing anything that’s likely to upset them.’ She flashed him a wobbly smile. ‘Thank you, Jack. You’re such a help to me.’
Jack didn’t have an answer to that, other than a ‘humph’ that sounded more pleased than annoyed. He nodded once and left.
Prue had a large, clean pail ready for the water. She poured in the contents of two of the saucepans, turning the third down to a low heat.
‘Do you think you could carry that upstairs?’ she asked Edie, nodding to the pail.
‘Yes, I can manage. What about the brandy though?’ Edie couldn’t recall ever seeing spirits in Applefield Manor.
‘I suspect you’ll find a little whisky in Bertie’s room if you hunt around. It’s the second on the right.’
Edie nodded and went to the kitchen door with the pail handle gripped in both hands. She paused and looked back at Prue.
‘Is she really his wife?’
‘So I understand,’ Prue said. ‘Sanctioned by God if not by the law.’
‘And you knew?’
‘Yes. But never mind about that now.’
‘You don’t really think the baby could die, do you?’
Prue sighed. ‘I dearly hope it won’t, but it’s a possibility. Get along with the water now, Edie.’
Edie headed upstairs, thankful for the little bit of muscle she’d managed to build as a Land Girl. Still, she had to stop a number of times while getting the heavy pail to Tilly’s room.
She could hear her friend’s groans echoing along the hallway as birthing pains ripped through her body. That must mean the baby was nearly here, surely.
Edie’s thoughts were no longer dwelling on Luca and Tilly’s relationship, or on anything else. All that was echoing in her brain was the same pleading prayer, over and over: please let it live, please let it live, please let it live …
She found her friend covered by a sheet, her knees up and spread wide with Luca kneeling between them. Edie felt embarrassed at the intimacy of the scene, as if she’d walked in on them on their wedding night.
Immediately she berated herself for being so foolish. She, who had delivered countless lambs over the past few months. She knew the facts of life well enough, so why did the schoolgirl blushes still come?
‘I, um … here’s the water,’ she said, putting the pail down by Luca while trying to avert her eyes from her friend’s immodest position. ‘And the soap.’ She handed it to him. ‘The towels will be here in a moment. I might have to hunt for some whisky though – there isn’t any brandy.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Luca said distractedly. ‘Yes, whisky, as soon as you can.’ He looked up over the sheet at Tilly’s flushed, sweat-drenched face. ‘You are doing wonderfully, brave girl. Keep pushing.’
Tilly moaned loudly as she strained, and Edie quietly made her exit.
Her next stop was Bertie’s room. She’d never been in before, and cast a curious look around.
Edie’s first thought was that it was the room of a boy who was only just becoming a man: pictures of cowboys, Spitfires and pin-up girls adorned the walls, while cigarette cards and comics littered the dresser. And, yes: when she opened the wardrobe, she found a half-empty bottle of Scotch nestling inside one of his boots. Bertie had obviously thought it very slyly hidden from his mother. Edie snatched it up and dashed back to Tilly’s room.
Prue was there, putting the towels down by Luca. Unlike Edie, she showed no embarrassment. She’d been through this herself, of course.
‘I’ve got whisky,’ Edie said, holding it up.
‘There is a tablespoon on the dresser. Measure out two spoonfuls and give them to her,’ Luca instructed. ‘It is not an ideal anaesthetic but we are forced to make do with what we have. Mrs Hewitt, please take one of the towels and place under her body.’
With quiet calm, Prue did as she was asked. Edie measured out the whisky and gave it to Tilly. She had some trouble getting her friend to drink it, since her teeth were ground together in pain, and the first spoonful went mostly over the bedclothes. A second attempt was more successful, however.
‘That ought to help a little with the pain,’ Luca said. ‘In twenty minutes, give her another two spoonfuls.’ His face was intent with concentration. ‘Another push, Matilda. I believe we will have the crown before long.’
Was the baby all right? Edie longed to ask if Luca could tell whether or not it lived, but she knew better than to do so in Tilly’s hearing. Whatever the outcome, her friend needed to keep on fighting.
For the next hour Edie stood at the head of the bed, holding Tilly’s hand while Prue mopped her brow. Occasionally, on Luca’s instruction, Edie administered more whisky. It seemed to be a careful calculation, this method of killing pain: enough to ease Tilly’s discomfort a little, but not so much that she ceased pushing as hard as she could.
The room was close and hot, filled with the fecund smells of blood, sweat and steaming flesh. A low-wattage lightbulb – dimmed further by a blackout-friendly paper lampshade – was the room’s only illumination, creating a sense of pervading gloom. Edie dabbed her sweat-sodden face constantly until she found that her handkerchief was drenched, and her hair, stuffed into a snood, was a damp mass against the back of her neck. As they drew towards the finish, the only sounds were Tilly’s pants and, every minute or so, a scream of raw pain.
And all the time, Edie’s fervent prayer echoed in her head: please let it live, please let it live, please let it live. Please, God, if I ever did anything good in my whole life, let Tilly and the baby both live.
She had heard someone else make a bargain like that, once upon a time. He’d paid for it with his life. As Tilly
’s screams once again rent the air, Edie clenched her eyes shut, touched one finger to her watch chain and promised with all her heart that if that was what it took, she would gladly give her own life to save Tilly and the baby.
Finally the one sound she hadn’t expected to hear cut through the silence. Laughter: the desperate, joyous, relieved sound of laughter. Luca’s laughter.
‘A little girl, by Jove!’ he cried out in delight. ‘One more push, Matilda, and we shall have all of her. Mrs Hewitt, I would be very grateful to borrow a pair of your scissors, if you are first able to sterilise them for me.’
Prue rushed to fetch the scissors and Edie gripped Tilly’s hand for one final effort. Her last shout was filled with joyous triumph as the baby, finally, was pushed free of her body. Edie heard a slap as Luca smacked it on the bottom, and then the most wonderful sound in the world – the sound of a healthy baby screaming its head off – filled the room.
Tilly laughed then, and cried too: tears of sheer joy and relief. Wordlessly she held out her arms for her child.
Prue had slipped through the door with the sterilised scissors some half a minute earlier. Luca expertly cut the umbilical cord, then wrapped the baby – pink, wrinkled and beautiful – in a towel and placed it gently in its mother’s arms. He knelt down at Tilly’s side and rested his head against her, a picture of exhaustion and happiness.
‘Oh, darling, look at her,’ Tilly whispered, fixing a gaze of wondering adoration on the baby. ‘Our little miracle.’ She cuddled the child to her and pressed her lips to its head. Baby Bianchi, sensing this was where she was meant to be, stopped crying and gave an approving gurgle.
‘Yes,’ Luca whispered, blinking back tears. He took one of his little daughter’s hands and gazed at the tiny but perfectly formed fingers that wrapped instinctively around one of his. ‘I don’t believe I ever saw anything more beautiful. Except her mother, of course.’
Tilly laughed, turning her face bashfully away. ‘Give over. I’ve just had a baby, I must look like death.’
‘You’re more beautiful to me now than the day I saw you first,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘Yes, today I am the luckiest man in the world.’
Edie felt Prue pluck her elbow.
‘Come on,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll leave them alone.’
They slipped quietly out into the hall, the new mother and father so wrapped up in each other and their baby that they barely noticed them leave.
Edie wasn’t sure what made her do it. The whole experience had been so frightening, so wonderful, so emotional and life-affirming and utterly terrifying, she couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around the older woman and hugged her tight, sobs of relief and happiness shaking her body.
Prue seemed taken aback for a moment, but she soon recovered and patted Edie on the shoulder.
‘You were very brave, Edie. I was proud of you, dear.’
‘Thank you.’ Edie laughed wetly as she released Prue from the hug. ‘Gosh, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I … I was so afraid Tilly and the baby might die. She’s such a tiny thing, isn’t she?’
‘With a hefty pair of lungs,’ Prue said, laughing. ‘I nearly went deaf when Luca gave her a smack. I ought to let the children know the baby arrived healthy. They had better take the day off school tomorrow, I think, after the night they’ve had.’
Edie’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my goodness, Sam!’
Prue frowned. ‘Sam?’
‘Yes, he’s in the library. I’d better tell him the baby’s here. And …’ She winced. ‘I owe him an apology.’
Chapter 25
Edie found Sam sitting in an armchair, staring at the Picture Post. It was open, but she could tell from the glazed look in his eyes that his mind was elsewhere – that and the fact he was holding it upside down. He looked up when she came in.
‘Is it all right?’ he demanded.
She nodded. ‘A healthy baby girl. Mother and baby both doing well.’
He let out a low whistle of relief. ‘Thank God. Luca would’ve been devastated.’
‘Yes. I can only imagine how horrific it must be to lose your wife and child.’
He glanced at her in surprise. ‘He told you?’
‘It slipped out in the heat of the moment.’ She shook her head. ‘You knew. And yet you let me believe … why, Sam?’
‘Here. Come outside where we won’t be overheard, if you’re going to start with your questions.’
She followed him out to the ornamental fountain. He took a seat on the stone circle that ran around the edge, and Edie sat down beside him.
‘Why did you lie?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t really. People decided I was the father and I chose not to correct them.’
‘Why did you choose not to?’
‘I told you, they can think what they want for my money. People made up their minds about me the day I got here. Sixteen years old, and they had me branded from the outset. Doesn’t bother me.’
He wasn’t looking at her, but staring out over the grounds. Edie watched him, one eye narrowed.
‘I don’t believe you,’ she said.
‘Excuse me?’
She smiled. ‘You’re not so tough, Sam Nicholson. You did it for them, didn’t you? Tilly and Luca.’
‘Don’t talk daft.’
‘Why are you so friendly with the POWs, Sam? I’m guessing you’re not really a fifth columnist.’
He turned to her, and something in her expression must have amused him. He broke into a smile.
‘You know, London, I never knew a girl like you for asking questions.’
She grinned. ‘If you answer them, maybe I’ll stop.’
‘Huh. Chance’d be a fine thing.’ He looked at the house, shining silver under the light of a full moon. ‘Perhaps I feel something kin to them. I know how it feels to be the outsider.’
‘Luca obviously thinks a lot of you.’
‘Aye, well, I think a lot of him. He’s a good man.’
Edie waited in silence, sensing he’d confide in her of his own accord, and she was right. After a minute, he spoke again.
‘I was angry when I found out what had been going on,’ he told her. ‘A prisoner of war carrying on with a Land Girl: it could have got Luca into a lot of trouble. He’d have lost his right to work outside the camp, that was certain. Then when Luca told me they’d fallen in love – well, they’re sentimental buggers, these Italians, always making a bloody opera out of everything, but I could tell he meant it. So like the soft lad I am, I ended up promising I’d help them keep the secret.’
‘That’s why Tilly visits you at the farm.’
He laughed. ‘She doesn’t visit me at all. I’m just chaperone when she drops in to see her old man, and postmaster general when they want me to pass letters between them.’
‘Are they really married?’
‘After a fashion. Not in law, of course, and won’t be unless they lift the ban on marrying enemy aliens. But they took communion together in the little chapel in one of my barns, and exchanged vows. Marco and I were witnesses. Married before God if not before Man, I suppose you could say.’
‘That ring she wears …’
Sam smiled. ‘Luca made it for her out of a two-bob bit. Not much of a wedding ring but she never takes it off.’
Edie fell silent. There was one thing that still bothered her.
‘You said you asked Tilly to marry you and she refused.’
‘Aye, that much was true. I did ask.’
‘Were you in love with her?’
He laughed. ‘Romantic soul, aren’t you, London? No, course I wasn’t in love with her. The girl was in trouble and … well, I’m not such a mean bastard that it didn’t tug on the old heartstrings. I hated to think of a young lass and bairn all on their own in the world, sneered at by the sort of people who are always first in the queue to chuck a few stones. So I made her an offer.’
‘But she turned it down.’
�
��That’s right. She’s already married, as far as she’s concerned, and she’d rather wait until Luca can legally make an honest woman of her than save face now with me. Can’t say I blame her. I probably wouldn’t have been much cop as a husband any road.’
Edie reached over to rest a hand on his.
‘That was a very noble thing to do,’ she said softly.
‘Bloody stupid thing to do. But if I had it all to do over again, I’d not act any differently.’
She smiled. ‘You know, the village is right about you, Sam: you are a coward. You’re scared to death of them finding out what a decent chap you really are, aren’t you?’
‘All right, keep your voice down,’ he said, with the hint of a grin. ‘You’ll ruin my reputation with that sort of talk.’
‘Sam, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so quick to jump to conclusions about you.’
His mouth flickered. ‘That makes two of us then, eh?’
He glanced down at her hand over his, then into her eyes.
‘You look like hell, you know, London,’ he said softly.
She flushed. It was funny: he’d just insulted her, but in a voice so laced with gentleness, with eyes so full of tender solicitude, that it had felt like the most beautiful compliment in the world.
‘Well, I just helped to deliver a baby,’ she said, attempting a lighthearted tone. ‘It’s not an experience designed to get you looking your best.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I’d say it suits you.’
He ran one finger over her cheek, the skin of his fingertip rough but so, so gentle. She looked up to meet his gaze, and discovered his face close to hers.
He’s going to kiss me, came the sudden realisation. And Edie realised she wanted him to. That maybe she’d always wanted him to …
Her eyes had started to close when a voice pierced the air, calling her name. Prue’s voice. The spell was broken, and hastily she turned her face away.
‘We, um … they must be wondering where we are,’ she said, feeling flustered. ‘We’d better go back.’
‘All right,’ Sam said with a calm self-assurance that irritated her. Wasn’t his heart hammering against his ribs the way hers was, damn him? ‘I’m sure we can continue this another time.’
Edie's Home for Orphans Page 22