Authors: Rebecca Hillary
Crappy Christmas (3 page)
“Well, thanks for that.” Tom raised his eyebrow as he turned to Carrie. “Is she OK?”
“She’s in labour, and the pain’s making her emotional. Can you keep an eye out for the doctor, and phone for an ambulance?”
“Can do. What are you going to do?”
“Keep her talking and deal with things as they happen. I take it Simon’s passed out.”
Tom nodded and gazed at Belle apologetically as she cried into Carrie’s shoulder. “I’ll go and call for that ambulance.”
Carrie sat with Belle for over half an hour, consoling her and listening to her emotional ramblings, until the paramedics arrived at almost the same time as the doctor, just as the baby decided to put in an appearance. Carrie stumbled downstairs, dumbstruck, and crashed down onto the couch beside Tom. He wrapped his arm around her, and she curled into him, thankful for a touch of comfort after the evening she had just had.
“The boys are in bed,” Tom muttered into her hair, the sherry on his breath sickly and sweet, but pleasantly warm. “I told them you’d be up in a bit to say goodnight.”
“It’s Simon’s baby,” Carrie said blankly. “She finally admitted it. This is such a crappy Christmas.”
Tom pulled his arm tighter around her shoulder as she fought to keep back the tears. Neither of them said anything, they just waited in silence until a the doctor came down to speak to them.
“Mother and baby are both fine. We’re happy for them both to stay here if you can get them to the surgery when it opens on the twenty-eighth. There’s really no point in dragging them out into the storm for no reason. Is he—” The doctor pointed in the direction of Simon, who was slumped over the table.
“He’s the father,” Carrie explained. “And he’s just totally wasted. He’ll have a thick head in the morning, but nothing more.”
“Yes, well you should try to convince him not to drink so much in the future.” The doctor showed himself out, and the paramedics weren’t far behind him.
After a few more minutes of silence, Tom laughed out loud and Carrie turned to him in confusion. “What’s tickling you?”
“I just had the most hilarious thought.” Tom paused for effect. “He’s going to wake up to a thick head and a baby!”
“How’s everything going?” Carrie asked, sitting softly on the edge of the bed and gazing down at the newborn.
“It’s amazing.” Belle’s eyes again filled with tears, but this time they were tears of joy. “I truly am sorry for lying to you, but I don’t think I could have done this without you. Would you mind if I name her after you?”
“Absolutely not!” Carrie chuckled as she rested her hand on Belle’s shoulder. “OK, maybe as a middle name.”
“Thanks.” Belle looked down at the baby in her arms and sighed tiredly. “I’m sorry for ruining dinner.”
“It’s fine. It was almost over anyway.” Carrie got back to her feet and headed quietly for the door. “I’ve got to go and say goodnight to the boys, but I’ll be back in a bit with a moses basket for the little one.”
Carrie stopped just outside the door and wiped a silent tear from her eye. It had been a more emotional day than any Christmas she had had before, but when all things were considered, perhaps it wasn’t such a crappy Christmas after all.
Rebecca Hillary was born in North Yorkshire, England in 1982. She has been writing since before she can remember and loves to read every genre of fiction.
She lives in South Yorkshire with her five children and their father, and is a right-brained introverted optimist.
Shunning the typical writer's fare of endless coffee, Rebecca prefers to survive on tea. She is, after all, English.
Find out more at
rebeccahillary.co.uk
