A Summer at Sea

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A Summer at Sea Page 17

by Katie Fforde


  ‘Depends why they’ve gone off,’ she said. ‘If a tree’s come down on the lines – well, that’ll be it for a little while.’

  ‘Well, if we have to do it in the dark, we have to,’ said Emily. She sounded relaxed, she realised, but actually she was a little bit anxious. ‘I have delivered a baby by firelight in a yurt, where there was no electricity, so anything is possible.’ But she had been prepared for that birth. It would be a trickier getting ready in the dark, but not impossible. ‘While we’re waiting for the torch, tell me briefly about the boys. Were their deliveries straightforward?’

  ‘Think so. Sorry, excuse me a minute.’

  Emily was aware of Rebecca leaning on something and then having a contraction. When she’d finished, she said, ‘I quite fancy having the baby in front of the fire.’

  ‘So you’d like it in the sitting room?’

  ‘Can I? The bedroom’s a bit cold.’

  ‘You can have what you want. And warmer is better. We’ll make a nest for you, make you as comfortable as possible.’

  James came back. ‘No luck with the electricity, I’m afraid, but here’s a good torch and plenty of candles.’

  ‘I’m going to have it in the sitting room, darling,’ said Rebecca. ‘By firelight. Not in an ambulance.’

  Emily laughed. ‘Come on you, let’s see how far along you are.’ As Rebecca’s temper seemed back to normal she decided she wasn’t in transition yet.

  ‘OK,’ said Emily a few minutes later. ‘We haven’t got a birthing pool but maybe a bath would help relax you. But don’t if you’d worry about getting stuck.’

  ‘No, a bath would be good. Especially if you can haul me out again.’

  While Rebecca huffed her way through another contraction, Emily went into Rebecca’s sitting room, a pale, usually sunny room, that she’d always loved. There were several oil lamps and a camping lantern lit and the fire was well made up. Apart from the lantern, which was too bright for now, but might come in useful later, it looked lovely. With a massive rug over the stone flags, it was a perfect place to have a baby.

  Then she noticed the expressions on the faces of James and Alasdair. Even in lamplight she could see they were obviously not calmed and comforted by the pleasantness of their surroundings. She also realised that although Alasdair was a doctor he probably wasn’t accustomed to home births. In this area, far away from hospital, home births wouldn’t be encouraged, in case something went wrong. He had his doctor’s bag that he obviously never travelled without.

  James was anxious because it had been a while since his wife had last given birth and then she’d been surrounded by professional, medical people, in surgical gowns and masks.

  ‘It’s all going to be fine,’ she said composedly. ‘If one of you could run a bath for Becca and the other make some tea? I’m sure you’d both rather have a stiff drink but that’s for later. And maybe some toast? Can we manage that without electricity?’

  ‘Aga toast,’ said James.

  ‘Good. She’ll need a bit of energy for what’s coming so toast and honey might be just the thing.’

  ‘We’ve got some nice honey,’ said James and hurried to the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll do the bath,’ said Alasdair. ‘I’ll put tea lights in there. There were some in with the candles. Lukewarm, do you think?’

  ‘No, a comfortable temperature. Why don’t you just get it going then Becca can decide how hot she wants it? Now, do you know where the airing cupboard is? We’ll need plenty of towels and sheets.’

  Home births were not just about the mother and baby, Emily knew. They were about the family, the father, the environment. Having Alasdair there was, in a way, a complication. If there was a problem, he’d be a godsend, but if there wasn’t, he might get in the way dreadfully.

  Alasdair had made a good job of the bathroom. There were tea lights everywhere and he’d found an oil burner, so the smell of orange and lavender filled the room.

  ‘Ooh, very romantic,’ said Rebecca as she came in, supported by James’s arm. ‘It’s a shame we can’t use it for something more exciting than childbirth.’

  ‘There is nothing more exciting than childbirth,’ said Emily. ‘Now you two stay here as long as you feel comfortable. James will lift you out if necessary, Becca.’

  ‘As long as he doesn’t do his back in,’ said Rebecca. ‘That toast was lovely, by the way.’ Then she stopped talking as she had another contraction.

  Emily, who was holding her own mug of tea, downed it in one. ‘Midwives run on tea,’ she explained to a rather startled James. Inwardly, she smiled. For several weeks James had known everything and she nothing, but now she was completely in her comfort zone while James, always unruffled, always positive, was looking to her for reassurance. ‘I’ll leave you both to it. I’ve got things I need to do. Call me if you’re worried.’

  She went back to the sitting room and set about turning it into a birthing suite.

  For Alasdair’s sake as much as anything, she took sheets and draped them on the sofas, keeping them in place with the legs of the sofas and gaffer tape which she found in a very tidy little cupboard by the front door. She guessed this was a cupboard Rebecca had sorted out recently, when the nesting instinct that got mothers whitewashing coal cellars and other unnecessary housewifely actions had taken over.

  This would mean Rebecca would be able to lean and move around in relatively hygienic conditions. She found a couple of huge floor cushions that she quickly covered, again using sheets and tape but with some very large, swift stitching as well. Then she got duvets, put clean covers on them and a made a nest on the floor.

  ‘It looks like a play area in a posh soft-furnishing shop,’ said Alasdair, bringing Emily another mug of tea. He’d been boiling scissors and, at Emily’s request, heaping towels on the Aga so they’d be warm to wrap the baby in when it first arrived.

  ‘It’ll be perfect. Cosy, comfortable, as germ-free as it can be.’

  ‘Just as well they haven’t got a dog. It would never be hair-free if anyone tried to have a baby in our house. Rupert’s hairs would get on everything.’

  Just for a second Emily thought about having a baby in Alasdair’s house. With the right midwife it would be perfect. Perhaps Sally would come up and look after her. Then she banished the thought as rapidly as it had come.

  ‘I’m sure it would be just fine, Rupert hairs or not,’ she said.

  ‘I think I’d still prefer a nice, sterile hospital.’

  Emily laughed. ‘After this is over, you’ll never think about childbirth in the same way again. It’ll be natural births for you all the way.’

  ‘How is Becca going to manage without pain relief?’

  Emily usually had gas and air for home births, but she’d delivered plenty of women without. ‘She’ll do very well. She’s going to be a total star. You’ll be surprised how well mothers do without all the technical equipment.’

  James came in. ‘Becca wants to get out of the bath.’

  ‘Can you help her out then? And find her something to give birth in, a nightie or something. But not her best one.’

  She looked at Alasdair. If he wasn’t here, Rebecca might like to be naked but she might not want her brother-in-law – someone she’d be seeing at family gatherings for the rest of her life – seeing her puffing and panting on all fours. Childbirth was a beautiful, natural and life-changing thing, but it wasn’t very dignified. ‘I’ll go and help James find a nightie.’

  By now, Rebecca was in her bedroom, forehead against an arm that was leaning against the doorframe. She was wrapped in a bath towel, groaning. James was opening and shutting drawers like an indecisive burglar.

  ‘Becca, we need to know,’ said Emily, ‘shall I send Alasdair away? Are you going to be embarrassed forever if he sees you do this? We don’t need a doctor. We could send him to the neighbours, like the boys?’

  ‘I’d much rather he stayed, Becca,’ said James, stopping his search in shock at the thought of his brothe
r leaving. ‘We might need a doctor.’

  ‘We really don’t. And if we do, he won’t be far away. He could be here in moments.’

  ‘Think it’ll be OK,’ said Rebecca when she could speak. ‘We can send him into the kitchen if I change my mind.’

  Emily nodded. ‘Fine. James, help her through when she’s ready. I just want to make sure the fire is stoked to the max.’

  Rebecca appeared in a cotton nightie that went down below her knees, in spite of her bump. ‘Not very glam, I know, but these are great for breastfeeding. I had several of them, when I had the boys. I don’t mind if it gets ruined and it’ll cover my bottom.’

  ‘Becca,’ said Emily firmly. ‘You’re not going to be on YouTube! You can wear what you like – or nothing!’

  ‘Oh God, I wish people would stop telling me what I can do! I just want to have a baby!’

  An hour later, Rebecca was on all fours, her forehead pressed against one of the sofas. ‘Why did I think this was a good idea?’ she asked the universe in the tiny break between contractions. ‘I have two lovely boys! Why did I want another baby!’

  ‘It’s a bit late to change your mind, hon,’ said James.

  ‘Did we find some tags?’ asked Emily, on her knees next to Rebecca. ‘We won’t be able to clamp the cord, obviously, so we need to tie it off.’ She smiled at James quickly. This term sounded faintly nautical.

  ‘Looking where I was told to look,’ said Alasdair. ‘Which was in Becca’s sewing basket. I found these.’ He waved what seemed to be a long narrow ribbon.

  ‘Cash’s name tapes,’ Rebecca gasped. ‘I inherited them from your mother. Never did sew them on anything.’

  ‘Well,’ said Emily, taking the strip and reading it, ‘if you don’t mind your baby’s umbilical cord being tied with tape which says James Cumming Alasdair, these’ll do fine.’ She frowned. ‘What’s with the name thing?’

  ‘You fold under one of the names,’ Alasdair explained. ‘Mine if it’s James’s, and his if it’s mine. I just get called Cumming Alasdair, instead of the other way round. It’s being the youngest.’

  Rebecca began to groan as another contraction overtook her.

  ‘You’re doing brilliantly, darling,’ said James, beginning to look tired himself.

  ‘We all are,’ said Emily. She was buoyed up on the adrenalin of childbirth. The following day, she knew, she might well be stiff and aching from spending all that time on her knees, but now she was totally in the moment.

  ‘I really need to push now,’ said Rebecca.

  Emily took a quick glance under the nightie. ‘OK, James or Alasdair, could I have a nice warm towel from the Aga? And make sure there’s a pile of them warming? We’re nearly there.’

  ‘If we can’t listen to the heartbeat, how do we know the baby is OK?’ murmured Alasdair to Emily just after Rebecca had had another contraction. ‘It’s a shame we can’t use this.’ He indicated the stethoscope round his neck.

  ‘It won’t work until the baby is born but we don’t have to hear the heartbeat, we’ll just prepare well, and deal with what happens.’

  ‘I’m not used to working in the dark like this,’ said Alasdair. ‘Literally!’

  ‘Well, I’ve done it all before, including working in the dark, so we’ll be fine.’

  Rebecca began to bellow.

  ‘We have a head. Your baby is so nearly here, Becca. Just keep on doing what you’re doing.’

  Rebecca just groaned louder.

  ‘Pass me the towel, someone,’ said Emily. ‘We’ll have the shoulders any minute.’

  The anticipation was enormous. ‘Why isn’t the baby here yet?’ asked James.

  ‘Rebecca?’ said Emily, ignoring James. ‘We need you to move about a bit. We just need to shift those shoulders. It’s quite a hefty baby we’ve got here.’ She got her arm over Rebecca’s shoulders and pulled her down on to her back.

  ‘Do we need to do a McRoberts manoeuvre?’ asked Alasdair.

  Emily really hoped they wouldn’t have to tip Rebecca on to her back again and bring her legs up over her head. ‘Let’s get up on all fours again and see what’s happened. Ah! Here we are!’

  The baby slid out on to the waiting towel.

  ‘Oh! What a big girl you are!’ said Emily.

  ‘A girl? Why isn’t she crying?’ said Rebecca.

  ‘Alasdair, can you bring the torch over here, and James? Another dry towel please.’

  Emily deftly transferred the baby into the towel James was holding and began rubbing quite briskly, talking and moving the baby gently around. ‘Come on, little girl! Say hello to your mummy and daddy! They’re waiting to hear your voice!’

  She and Alasdair were waiting too, just as anxiously. Alasdair listened to the baby’s heartbeat. ‘It’s over a hundred,’ he said.

  ‘That’s good,’ said Emily, ‘and she’s blue, which is OK. Come on, honey, little cry for Emily! Ah! There we go! And look, her face is beginning to turn pink already.’

  The baby began to cry lustily and Emily placed her on Rebecca’s stomach. Then she piled on another couple of towels. ‘It’s the best way to keep her warm,’ she explained, having removed the first towel, damp now.

  ‘She’s crying!’ said Rebecca.

  ‘A crying baby is a happy baby,’ said Emily. ‘That’s what I was taught.’

  ‘And does that apply to fathers, too?’ said James, who was laughing and crying at the same time, hugging his wife’s shoulders and looking down at his daughter.

  As Emily was also feeling emotional she just laughed. She looked up at Alasdair and saw relief and satisfaction on his face – and something else. She was sure her expression mirrored his, apart from that something she couldn’t identify. It was as if he’d found something he thought he’d lost.

  ‘Jolly well done, everyone,’ he said huskily and then pulled out his handkerchief.

  ‘Did we have any girls’ names?’ asked James, still hugging his wife.

  ‘I’d just assumed it would be a boy,’ said Rebecca. ‘Although I do have a couple up my sleeve.’

  ‘Before you get too caught up in the name thing,’ Emily broke in. ‘I just need you to deliver the placenta for me.’

  ‘Oh God,’ said Rebecca indignantly. ‘Do I have to? I’ve just had a baby, for goodness’ sake!’

  ‘It’ll be nothing after delivering your daughter,’ said Emily. ‘Come on, Bec, you can do it.’

  ‘Doesn’t she need an injection for that?’ asked James. ‘I seem to remember when Henry was born—’

  ‘We’re not in hospital. No injections,’ said Rebecca firmly.

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Emily.

  ‘You know I was going to make her second name Emily,’ said Rebecca, ‘but you’ve made me work so hard …’

  ‘There we go,’ said Emily as the placenta slithered into the bowl she had ready for it.

  ‘Is it all there?’ asked Alasdair. He produced a torch. ‘Shall I hold this while you look?’

  ‘Thank you.’ Then Emily inspected the placenta carefully. ‘Yup. All present and correct. What do you want to do with it? Keep it for a while—’

  Rebecca interrupted her quickly. ‘I’ll plant a tree over it, if that suits your hippy-dippy sensibilities, but don’t even say what you were about to.’

  Emily laughed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. No smoothies.’ As the thought of what some mothers did with their placentas made her decidedly queasy Emily had no trouble holding back.

  ‘Well,’ said James. ‘I think it’s time to break out the ten-year-old Jura Malt. Everyone?’

  ‘Tea for me,’ said Emily.

  As Emily did her best to tidy up in the flickering candlelight she felt she’d never get over the wonder of childbirth. Seeing Rebecca and James with their baby made her want to weep. She always felt a bit like this, she realised, but this time it was far more personal.

  Alasdair had retreated to the kitchen to make tea.

  ‘The boys will be so disappointed it’s a gi
rl,’ said Rebecca dreamily, comfortably lying back on all the cushions and pillows available.

  ‘I think it’s wonderful!’ said James. ‘You wanted a girl, didn’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know how to look after girls. How do you change their nappies? There are bits missing,’ said Rebecca, looking at her daughter with a mixture of shock and blissful love.

  ‘So, what girls’ names did you have tucked up your sleeve? Nothing too extreme, please. We don’t want a little Ismene.’

  ‘Actually, I like Eleanor – Eleanor Emily, Nell for short,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘Oh, Becca!’ said Emily. ‘That’s lovely! And actually, James, maybe I’ll have tea and whisky!’

  ‘I don’t know what we’d have done without you and Alasdair,’ she went on.

  ‘Good Lord, I didn’t do anything!’ said Alasdair, coming in with the tea. ‘It was Emily here who was the star of the show.’

  ‘I propose a toast,’ said James. ‘To my beautiful, clever wife, Rebecca—’

  ‘And Emily, who was brilliant,’ put in Alasdair.

  ‘And don’t forget Alasdair!’ Emily interjected.

  ‘Yes, to brilliant Emily, and including my little brother if you must – for bringing Nell safely into the world.’

  Emily drew breath to say that she was only doing her job, but a huge lump in her throat meant she couldn’t say anything. Seeing her best friend with her crumpled bundle, sleeping now, she realised how much she envied her. For the first time in her life she really wanted a baby of her own.

  Chapter Fourteen

  REBECCA, JAMES AND Nell had finally retired to bed. Nell was in the crib the boys had used. Alasdair and Emily were in the sitting room. Emily was still overcome by the realisation that she wasn’t only a career woman, but a potential mother, too. It had taken this candlelit delivery to make her understand that. Delivering your best friend’s baby was a lot more emotional than she would have thought. They were such a perfect family: James and Becca, the new baby girl and their two bigger boys. It was something Emily wanted, too.

  ‘Emily …’ Alasdair began.

  Emily’s heart began to race. Was he going to say something significant? Or just suggest another cup of tea?

 

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