Homecoming (48 page)

‘Davies, you are not helping yourself and you are not helping your baby,' the matron lectured. ‘Now take a deep breath, pull yourself together, make an effort and push.'

‘I am trying,' Emily gasped, thrashing around the bed.

‘You are not.' The matron looked to a member of staff who was helping her. ‘Is the cot ready?'

‘Everything's been ready for hours, Matron.'

‘Right, Davies, one enormous push should do it.' The matron glared with a steely eye, defying Emily to do otherwise as she laid her hand on her abdomen. ‘I can feel a contraction coming. Now push!'

Emily concentrated and finally did as the matron asked.

‘Good, we have the head, now another push when I tell you.'

Ten minutes later the matron held up a squalling, crying, red-faced baby. ‘You have a fine baby boy. As soon as we have cleaned him up, you can hold him.'

The matron nodded to the woman who was helping her. Wrapping the baby in a towel she showed him to Emily who promptly burst into tears.

‘I hope he doesn't remember the way his mother greeted him,' the woman said tartly.

‘He looks just like his father,' Emily sobbed. ‘Exactly like him.'

‘You'll have to give him his first feed soon.' The matron tied off the umbilical cord and laid the baby next to Emily in the bed.

‘Must I?' Emily begged.

‘Someone has to look after him until he's old enough to go to his adoptive parents.'

Emily looked down at the baby in the towel. She felt tired, exhausted, and every part of her body ached. Then the baby fell silent and opened his eyes. They were blue, as she'd been told every baby's were, but they were an intensely rich blue that reminded her of Robin.

Turning away from the baby, she sank her head into the pillow and started sobbing.

‘It's over. Another few weeks and you'll be able to go home,' the matron said in a softer voice.

‘I don't have a home,' Emily burst out between sobs. ‘No one wants me … or him.' She relinquished the baby to the matron.

‘Try to get some rest. You need your strength. And remember,' the matron added, giving Emily the only words of comfort she could, ‘the worst is over.'

‘Annie Norah Clay.'

‘Who has a nerve to lie there, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth after all the upset and worry she caused.' Brian drained his glass and set it on the table.

‘Don't you dare criticise my baby, Brian Powell.' Lily jumped to her baby's defence.

‘Given how protective her parents are, I won't try again. Is this what it's going to be like at our parties from now on, men in the kitchen, women and nursery in the living room?' he said, as Joy and Katie carried their babies from Lily's dining room into the living room and Jack and John headed for the kitchen.

‘Wait until it's your turn.' Martin sat next to Lily and pushed his finger gently into his daughter's hand.

‘Not me, my wife is a career woman.' Brian winked at Judy and followed John and Jack out of the room.

‘Shall I get that?' Roy asked, as the telephone began to ring.

‘Please, Uncle Roy,' Lily answered.

‘Your Auntie Norah would have been proud as punch, love,' Roy smiled. ‘Just you take it easy and take good care of yourself.'

‘I'll see that she does,' Martin asserted.

‘Helen,' Roy called, as he set the receiver down, ‘it's for you. You left this number with someone.'

‘I did.' Helen went into the hall and closed the door behind her.

‘Sometimes, I think that girl never stops working. Or our suppliers,' John grumbled. ‘Who can be calling her this late on a Saturday afternoon?'

‘I'm sorry, everyone,' Helen apologised as she returned. ‘Jack and I have to leave.'

‘We do?' Jack called from the kitchen. ‘Oh, of course we do.' Abandoning his glass, he joined her.

‘A baby?' Katie asked.

Helen glanced at Jack. ‘Possibly, we're not sure.'

‘Will you be bringing it home?'

Helen hesitated. ‘We could be. The mother has already left the hostel.'

‘You'll need baby clothes, a cot, nappies and a million and one other things,' Katie said practically.

‘You have the keys to the warehouse,' John reminded. ‘You could call in there and take what you want.'

‘I'd rather not until we know we can have the baby for certain,' Helen prevaricated.

‘If you are able to take the baby right away, you can always call back here. We can lend you whatever you need including formula and bottles until you have time to sort yourself out,' Katie suggested.

‘Thank you.' Helen picked up her handbag.

‘I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.' Katie kissed Jack's cheek then Helen's.

‘Look after yourself.' Helen's eyes shone damply, as she kissed Lily and Annie goodbye.

‘Good luck, see you soon and thank you for your present,' Lily gripped Helen's hand.

‘Annie should be thanking me.'

‘I'm going to have as much fun reading the books to her as she will listening to them.'

‘See you all later.' Helen went into the hall to find Jack already waiting at the door.

‘I take it that was the hostel,' Jack said, as he drove out of Carlton Terrace.

‘Maggie had the baby late last night. The matron talked to her and they agreed to telephone us first thing on Monday morning to give her time to think about the private adoption. But when the matron went to see her an hour ago, she discovered that Maggie had packed her bags and left the hostel. There was a letter in the baby's cot asking her to telephone us and give us the baby.'

‘Surely Maggie needs medical care.'

‘The matron said the birth was straightforward and in her letter Maggie also said that she couldn't bear to nurse the baby for six weeks knowing she'd have to walk away from it.'

‘Isn't this going to make your decision all the harder, sweetheart, knowing that the baby doesn't have anyone special person to care for it while it's in the hostel?' he asked guardedly.

‘I don't know, Jack. When we get there, do you mind if I see the baby alone?'

‘If that's what you want.'

She sensed that he was wounded by her request. ‘Please, I need a little time with the baby. I want to be sure that I can be its mother in every sense of the word, Jack.'

‘I understand, I really do,' he added in response to her questioning look. ‘Did the matron say whether the baby is a boy or a girl?'

Helen looked at Jack in surprise. ‘Do you know, I didn't even think to ask.'

‘As we're expecting a set of adoptive parents to arrive in the office at any moment, we left Mrs Jones's baby in here.' The matron opened one of the doors set off the upstairs corridor.

Helen walked in behind her to see Emily setting out a pile of baby clothes on a single bed, a small suitcase next to her.

‘You should have taken your baby down to the office half an hour ago, Davies,' Matron admonished.

‘I've almost finished packing his things, Matron.'

‘Well, quick sharp.' The matron looked awkwardly from Helen to Emily.

‘It's all right, we do know one another,' Helen explained.

‘I know your case is slightly different, Mrs Clay, but it's totally against regulations for adoptive parents to meet any of our mothers.'

‘You're adopting a baby?' Emily asked eagerly.

‘We hope to,' Helen replied guardedly.

‘But not your baby.'

Emily looked so crestfallen at the matron's pronouncement, Helen felt she had to say something. She looked in the cot closest to the bed. ‘Is that your baby?'

‘It's a boy,' Emily muttered.

Helen only just stopped herself from saying, ‘Congratulations,' as she had done to Lily earlier. But this bleak little room with its twin beds, cots and two sets of drawers seemed a world away from Lily and Martin's comfortable house crowded with happy, smiling well-wishers.

‘You know the rules, Davies. Finish packing and take the case and the baby downstairs. Then we'll call a taxi to drive you to the station,' the matron directed forcefully.

‘I just need another moment.' Emily picked up two matinee jackets from the bed and laid them carefully in the case, smoothing the folds with the professional touch she had acquired in Lewis Lewis's.

‘Mrs Clay.' The matron blocked Helen's view of the second cot. ‘If you'd like to go downstairs and wait in the hall for a moment.'

Helen gave Emily a sympathetic look before walking down the stairs. A few seconds later Emily appeared with her baby in her arms, the matron following behind her with two small cases. Without looking at her, they both went into the office. Five minutes later the matron emerged.

‘I am so sorry, Mrs Clay. Miss Davies should have cleared that room half an hour ago. If you'd like to come upstairs with me now.'

Heart pounding, Helen walked slowly up the stairs. The matron opened the door and lifted Maggie's baby from the cot. ‘Would you like a few moments alone?'

‘Yes, please.'

‘Why don't you sit in the chair?' Matron handed her the baby.

‘Is it …'

‘It's a boy.' The matron retreated and closed the door behind her.

Helen looked down at the bundle in her arms. The baby was small but not as small as Lily's Annie. But then he wasn't Lily's Annie, Katie's Glyn, or Joy's Billy. This was a baby who could be hers. Her and Jack's son – if she could only love him as a mother …

He stirred in her arms and crumpled his face, squinting up at her through barely open eyes. She pulled up his nightdress and cupped one of his tiny feet in her hand, studying his face. He stretched and lifted his hands, waving his minute fingers slowly in the air. They were perfect in every detail down to his tiny nails.

Steeling herself, she untied his knitted bonnet and slipped it off. His hair was as black as Maggie's had been fair. The thickest, blackest and curliest she had ever seen on a baby – just like his father.

She continued to stare down at the baby. His eyes widened and he looked up at her. ‘You are very beautiful,' she murmured.

The baby creased his face as if he was about to cry.

‘Sorry, little man, handsome is a better word than beautiful for a boy. But …' But? She lifted him on to her shoulder and paced to the window. Matron was seeing a tearful Emily into a taxi. She looked back at the empty cot in the room and thought of the baby waiting for his new parents in Matron's office. Emily was distraught, but was that any wonder when she was driving away from her son without even knowing what kind of people were going to adopt him or what sort of a life they could offer her son?

Then she thought of Maggie and how broken-hearted she must have been that morning, when she had packed her bags and fled the hostel and this beautiful baby …

But was Maggie's pain any worse or different from Jack's? This was as much his child as Maggie's. He had felt responsible for it and been prepared to love it from the very first moment he knew of its existence. So much so he had risked their marriage rather than try to conceal the child from her.

The baby nuzzled close to her and she wrapped her arms around him as he relaxed in sleep. So small, so trusting and deserving of the very best life had to offer. A knock at the door startled her.

‘Come in,' she answered softly.

‘I couldn't wait any longer, Helen. You don't mind, do you?' Jack hovered uneasily in the doorway, a strained, almost wild expression in his eyes.

‘No,' she whispered. ‘Have you seen the matron?'

He nodded. ‘She told me it's a boy.'

She lifted the baby down from her shoulder and cradled him in her arms so he could see his son. ‘Isn't he gorgeous?'

‘Yes,' he croaked huskily.

‘Just look at his hair. This is how you must have looked when you were born.' She bit her bottom lip as she saw tears start in his eyes. ‘The next one we adopt is going to be a girl, and we'll get the doctor to arrange it.'

‘You mean …'

‘Go to Daddy.' She handed Jack the baby.

‘Helen, I …'

She looked into his eyes. ‘Maggie said we'd make good parents, Jack, and we will.'

Wordlessly, he sank down on the bed with the baby.

‘We'll need a name for him. How about Gordon John Clay?'

‘Gordon? Won't it remind you?'

‘You don't think we should name him after a brave man who saved your life?'

‘If that's what you want, Helen.'

‘It's what I want.' She picked up a small case from the foot of the cot. ‘Would you like to carry him downstairs?'

‘Goodbye, and send my best wishes to the other Mrs Clay and her daughter.'

‘We will.' Helen waved to the matron, who closed the door of the hostel before they even reached the car.

‘She couldn't wait to see the back of us,' Jack said, opening the car door for Helen.

‘It can't be easy looking after pregnant girls who know they have no option but to give up their babies.'

‘Excuse me?' A man wound down the window of his car, as he stopped in the road outside the house. ‘Is this Cartref?'

‘Yes, it is.' Helen looked from the shining new car and the smartly-dressed man to the nervous looking woman sitting in the passenger seat.

‘Thank you. You see, darling, I told you it would be along this road.'

The couple drove into the courtyard and parked their car. Helen watched them climb out and walk up the steps as Jack took the baby from her.

‘They look nice people, don't they?' she asked Jack. He handed her the baby when she was settled in the car.

‘Yes.' He looked slightly mystified by her question.

‘That's good.'

He climbed in beside her and looked down at his son. ‘Straight home?'