‘Come on, little one, let’s take you down to meet my Bertie,’ she crooned as she left the room, throwing one last anxious glance towards Abi.
Bertie bounced out of the kitchen chair the second she appeared and within seconds the baby had him eating out of her tiny hand as he cradled her while his mother prepared the water for her bath.
‘But how is Abi?’ he asked eventually when he managed to tear his attention from the baby.
‘Not good at the minute,’ his mother admitted, carrying the bowl to the table. ‘But she’s in good hands so we have to stay optimistic.’
Bertie glanced towards the ceiling as he reluctantly handed the baby back to his mother. An hour ago he would have done anything to stop the agonised screaming yet now the dreadful silence seemed infinitely worse.
Finally, the doctor appeared in the doorway looking haggard and tired. ‘I’ve managed to stop the flow of blood and Nurse Blye is washing her now,’ he told them.
‘Will she be all right?’ Bertie’s eyes were tortured.
‘She’s young and healthy so provided she doesn’t start bleeding again I see no reason why she shouldn’t make a full recovery. But now let’s have a look at this little lady before I go.’
The baby, now swaddled in a shawl that Mrs M had knitted and dressed in one of the tiny nightgowns that she had stitched, was fast asleep in the drawer of the kitchen dresser.
‘Is she all right, doctor?’ Bertie asked.
Once again the doctor looked grave as he removed his stethoscope from his ears and straightened. ‘I’m afraid one of her legs is broken. I had to be quite brutal to deliver her so that will have to be set but also .?.?.’ He paused, seeing the look of concern on their faces. ‘I’m afraid she may have a heart condition. Of course, the erratic heartbeat could just be down to the traumatic birth, in which case it will right itself.’
‘And what can you do for that if it doesn’t?’
The doctor sighed as he looked at Bertie. ‘There is nothing that can be done,’ he admitted. ‘We can only hope that she grows a little stronger over the next few weeks. I’m not even going to set her leg just yet. I think she’s been through quite enough trauma coming into the world, but I’ll call back to see how she and the mother are tomorrow. Good evening, Bertie, Mrs Merryweather.’
They both inclined their heads as he left the room and Bertie lifted the baby protectively against his chest. ‘I wonder what Abi will call her?’ he mused. He was clearly besotted with the infant already and held her as if she was made of pure gold.
‘That’s the least of our worries for the minute,’ his mother responded. ‘I’m going to prepare a pap bag for her and you can see if you can get any milk into her while I go up and see if there’s anything I can do to help Nurse Blye.’
Abi had been washed and changed and lay limply back against the pillows when Mrs M got upstairs.
‘She did come round for a few minutes,’ Nurse Blye told her. ‘But what she needs now is rest and good nourishing food.’
‘And I shall see that she gets both,’ Mrs M assured her as she smoothed the blankets across Abi’s stomach. ‘I don’t mind telling you I thought we were going to lose her for a while back there.’
‘So did I, but between you and me it’s the baby I’m the most concerned for,’ the nurse told her in a low voice as she rolled her sleeves back down and prepared to leave. ‘Still, it’s all in God’s hands now. Goodnight, Mrs M.’
‘Goodnight, nurse.’ Mrs M took a seat at the side of the bed and gently took Abi’s hand as she waited for her to wake up.
‘Come on, lass, don’t let me down now. You’ve got a little daughter downstairs waiting to meet you, and me and Bertie need you to wake up so that you can tell us what you’re going to call her,’ she said softly, but Abi slept on.
Chapter Forty-Three
‘Ihad a letter from Abi today,’ Emmy told Jake when he picked her up the following Sunday. ‘It’s the second I’ve had from her since she ran off to Aunt Imogen’s house at the coast and she said she might be coming home soon. But she still won’t give me the address for me to write back to her and neither will my aunt. I really can’t see why,’ Emmy ended peevishly.
‘I’ve no doubt she has her reasons,’ Jake said sensibly as he urged the old horse forward. ‘And I really can’t see what the problem is if you know that she’s all right.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Emmy admitted in a small voice. ‘But I still can’t stop worrying about her.’ As she glanced at Jake she noticed that he looked tired. He was now working four days a week at the practice in Harley Street and the other three at the poor surgery. ‘Don’t you think it’s time you started to have a day off each week? You’re working far too hard!’ she suggested tentatively.
He shook his head. ‘I’m fine. I just feel guilty that I haven’t gone home to help Mother run the farm now that Father is gone.’
‘Well, don’t. Mama told me in her last letter that my father is doing a sterling job of managing it. I’m actually very grateful to Aunt Sybil for giving him the opportunity. It’s given him his pride back and he and Mother are like a pair of lovebirds.’ She giggled. ‘I never thought I’d say this but they seem happier now than when they were living in Astley House.’
‘Life is a funny thing,’ Jake commented. ‘And as for me looking tired, you look a little peaky yourself.’
‘Oh, I’m fine.’ Emmy was a little tired but she would never admit it. Her aunt hadn’t been at all well for the last few days and Emmy had spent a few sleepless nights getting in and out of bed to check on her, much to her aunt’s disgust.
‘There’s no need to keep checking on me like a mother hen,’ she had scolded. ‘I’m quite capable of calling you if I want anything.’ At which Emmy had smiled and slunk away. She knew that her aunt was grateful under her tough exterior.
