The guy kneels down on the grass beside us. ‘I’ll put the emergency centre on speakerphone. They’re asking, can you see the head yet?’
I wait until Clemmie opens her eyes again. ‘Is the head there, Clems?’
There are damp strands of her hair sticking to her forehead as she lets out a whimper. ‘I think it might be.’
‘Shouldn’t we be waiting for Charlie?’ I’m playing for time here, but I untuck my vest from my shorts just in case. ‘He can’t be far away, he’s going to be devastated if he misses this.’
‘I might need to push…’
I’m all about the practicalities here. ‘What about your pants, Clems?’
‘I gave up on those weeks ago…’ Her next groan is so loud it obliterates any relief her answer just gave me.
The guy is keeping up a running commentary into his phone as Clemmie’s face turns redder. ‘She’s on her knees, pushing now, and her friend Florence is beside her, steadying her hips.’
The sound of a siren might be blowing on the wind, but I could be dreaming that. And I might be the one steadyingmyselfas I grasp Clemmie’s waist, not the other way around.
A woman’s voice is echoing across from the phone. ‘You and your baby are going to be fine, Clemmie, we’ll talk you through… Grasp the baby as it comes, Florence… Hold on to it firmly…’
I peel off my vest, drop back behind Clemmie, and push past the flowery fabric of her dress. My most valuable cargo to date was a tray of diamond sparkle champagne cocktails someone paid thousands of pounds for, but the small body I’m reaching for with my outstretched fingers is so much more precious.
I gasp as the full weight of a baby lands in my hands. He’s warm as I pull him tightly against the skin of my bare midriff. I should be shouting, so everyone can hear, but the most I can manage is a whisper. ‘I’ve got the baby, Clems! He’s really heavy!’
As she collapses sideways onto the rug, I move in beside her. ‘You’ve done it, Clemmie, Arnie is here!’
What the hell happens now?
The next seconds stretch to an age, then there’s a small splutter, and a cry that turns to a wail. I take in a crumpled face and tiny fists as I sit back on my heels and try to pull the vest around him.
As I slide him onto Clemmie’s chest her cheeks are wet with tears and she’s shuddering. ‘Thanks, Floss. I d-didn’t expect this when I set off!’ She looks down at the bundle in her arms. ‘He’s beautiful, isn’t he?’
I swallow back a sob. ‘Another redhead too.’
Her eyes go wide as if she’s had another thought. ‘If you want a custard cream blondie, help yourself from the car!’ She clasps my hand. ‘They are still your favourite?’
Then there’s a blur of bright red vehicles and blue lights further along the road and as the tyres skid to a halt on the gravel I’m thinking this must be a mistake.
‘Didn’t we call for an ambulance?’
The first two men are already kneeling down beside us. ‘We firemen are the local first responders; you’re in safe hands with us.’ He pauses to grin. ‘If in doubt, Blue Watch will sort you out!’
The second one frowns at me. ‘We’ll fill in until the paramedics arrive. The next bit is the umbilical chord, then the placenta.’
I drop a kiss on Clemmie’s cheek. ‘I’d better make room for the professionals!’
As I hear the emergency centre hand over to the crew on the ground a third guy is looking down at us. ‘Clemmie Hobson! Having a baby by the side of the Truro road is taking natural childbirth to extremes!’ He does a double take as he sees me. ‘And Florence Flapjack-face too! Back to set the town on fire, I presume?’
As I scramble to my feet it’s not lost on me that I’m surrounded by enough talent to fill a uniformed worker calendar, but my goosebumps are all down to the person in the dark suit trousers and white shirt standing back by the hedge.
I have nothing to lose here, I might as well own what everyone knows anyway. However old I grow, there will always be someone in St Aidan to call me by my childhood nickname and remind me of the time I was trying to smoke a paper towel for a dare in chemistry and accidentally set the school alight. It’s hard to re-compose myself as a sensible thirty-something, when my boobs are falling out of a bra top with diamond trim that’s two sizes too small and my cheeks are sticky with tears, but I give it my best shot. Then another car draws up, and as Charlie jumps out, I run off to prepare him.
‘Clemmie’s-by-the-hedge-she’s-had-the-baby-they’re-both-fine!’ I race to get to the end part, but Charlie still turns the colour of the Green Fairy absinthe cocktail we used to serve at The Circus.
Then an ambulance pulls to a halt behind the fire engine, and the paramedics come towards us carrying a stretcher. Charlie drops to join the group on the rug, and I dash round the cars to check on Bud and Shadow, who are both still asleep. I’m wiping my hands on a paper towel someone gave me, when I look up to see the guy who called the ambulance shaking a T-shirt at me.
‘Have this if you’re cold.’
‘I couldn’t possibly…’ Asking how to give it back could be misread as a chat-up line.
