‘No, please. You’re liable to get into enough trouble thanks to me. I’m sure the doctor will help me get home. He’s got a car.’
‘Nonsense. The doc’s got patients to see to. I’ll take you.’
‘Please, Ernie,’ she said, looking up at him. ‘I don’t know how I’d explain you driving me home to the neighbours, especially when Charlie’s away.’
‘Well, if that’s the way you want it.’ He rapped at the door then bent to kiss her cheek. ‘It doesn’t seem the right moment to offer congratulations so I’ll save them for another time. But it’ll all work out, you’ll see.’
‘You’ve been a real knight in shining armour today, Ernie. That girl of yours doesn’t know how lucky she is.’
‘I wouldn’t know about that.’
The door opened and the doctor’s wife appeared. Mrs Minchin acted as secretary-cum-nurse to her husband during consulting hours.
‘Oh,’ she said on seeing Bobby. ‘Morning, love. We weren’t expecting you while two.’
‘I know. Is Dr Minchin free now? I have to see him.’
Mrs Minchin took in Bobby’s drawn, sickly looks. ‘Why, is summat up?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps.’
‘He’s with another patient but I’ll send you in right after.’ She squinted short-sightedly at Ernie. ‘This is your husband?’
‘Just a friend,’ Ernie said. ‘Look after her, won’t you, ma’am? Make sure she gets home OK.’
‘Um, yes,’ the woman said, puzzled at encountering an unexpected accent.
‘See you, Slacks. Take care, all right?’ Ernie saluted before heading back to his truck.
Without his support, Bobby felt unsteady again. She was glad to follow Mrs Minchin to the waiting area and sink into a seat.
After what seemed like an age, the patient who had been in with the doctor finally left. Dr Minchin put his head round the door to speak with his wife, who was sitting behind a desk filing prescriptions.
‘Well, Gertie, who’s next?’
‘Mrs Atherton had better go in, Dick,’ his wife said. ‘She’s not due while two, but it’s an emergency.’
The doctor beckoned to Bobby and she followed him into the surgery.
‘Take a seat, Mrs Atherton,’ the doctor said, gesturing to a chair, ‘and let’s hear what’s worrying you.’
‘It’s Marmaduke,’ she said at once, then flinched at having used the foolish nickname she and Charlie had given the baby. ‘Sorry. I mean the baby.’ She gasped back a sob. ‘Dr Minchin, I’m so frightened.’
‘Now, let’s try to stay calm,’ Dr Minchin said in his gentle voice. The shrewd, intelligent eyes behind homely roundspectacles were instantly reassuring. ‘Working yourself up into a state certainly won’t do – what did you say his name was, Marmaduke? – any good. What’s worrying you?’
‘He’s stopped moving, I’m sure he has. I don’t think he’s moved since Charlie left to go to London yesterday morning.’
The doctor frowned. ‘As long as that?’
‘I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure.’ Bobby rubbed her head. ‘I wasn’t paying attention until this morning. He always moves around half past six.’
‘Bladder pressure, I imagine. Not uncommon, although many babies are more active at night.’ The doctor noticed her frightened expression and stopped. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t interrupt. Go on.’
‘Well, this morning I overslept because I was so used to him waking me, and I realised I couldn’t remember him moving for ages.’ She sobbed again. ‘I can’t feel him at all, Doctor,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I’ve been pressing against my stomach since I woke up and I can’t feel a thing. Not a thing. I’m so scared he’s… that he’s… dead.’
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions,’ the doctor said evenly. ‘Take off your coat and lift your blouse, please.’
Bobby did so, exposing her rounded stomach. The doctor rested his hands on it and moved them around, pressing with his fingertips. Then he put on his stethoscope and moved the cold metal against her skin, an inscrutable expression on his face.
