Tide of Fortune (12 page)

‘I think there’s an old tin one in my cupboard,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and see.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Toy volunteered. ‘Like a cup of tea, would she?’

‘Oh, how kind. That would be marvellous.’

Toy sighed. ‘As one soul depart another do get born.’ His voice faltered and, after sniffing hard, he squared his shoulders. ‘Put a cup on for you as well, shall I?’

‘I’d appreciate that, thank you.’

‘Dear life.’ He shook his head in sympathy. ‘All due respect, miss, but you’re having some time of it.’

‘Told Mr Penrose yet, have you?’ Broad asked, trying to unscrew the top off a dented oblong tin, another tucked under his arm.

‘Not yet.’ Kerenza had been trying not to think about that. But clearly he would have to be told. Courtesy, as well as necessity, demanded she be the one to tell him. Part of her dreaded seeing him again because of all the turmoil it would stir up. But the other part, the deeper, yearning, treacherous part, was already reasoning that the cause was legitimate, not merely an excuse.

‘I think I had better do it now. Mr Toy, do you know if the captain has – had – any medical books?’

‘What do you want they for?’ Toy asked, bewildered.

Broad rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘Why d’you think?’

Kerenza explained. ‘I’m hoping that one might have a chapter about – that would be helpful in – in the current situation.’

‘Doctor prob’ly had books,’ Broad said thoughtfully. ‘Bound to. He left a great pile of stuff when he jumped ship in Jamaica.’ He lowered his voice, shooting Kerenza a meaningful look. ‘Bit too partial to the rum, he was. I mean, we all like a drop now and then to keep out the cold. But –’ An indrawn breath hissed between his teeth as he shook his head. ‘Used to get the shakes something awful, he did. Like a leaf in a gale. I wouldn’t trust him to sew on a button, let alone sewing up –’

‘Miss Vyvyan don’t want to hear none of that,’ Toy interrupted, glaring at the steward before turning back to Kerenza. ‘If I remember right, the captain, God rest his soul, dumped all of the doctor’s stuff in one of the sea berths. You ask Mr Penrose, miss. He’ll know.’

‘Bring anything to wrap these in, did you?’ Broad held up the two tins. ‘They’ll be too hot to carry like they are.’

Kerenza raised empty hands. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think.’

‘Don’t you worry. I’ll find something in the slop chest, a strip of old blanket or something. ’Tis all clean,’ he assured quickly. ‘Cap’n always made certain we carried spare clothes and a blanket or two. Some of the men we take on haven’t got a rag to their back, poor bugg – poor souls,’ he amended hastily.

Kerenza was thinking hard, trying to recall the relevant snippets of information overheard in conversations in the village shops, and between her grandmother and Lizzie Gendall.

‘I don’t suppose the chest might contain any sheets or towels?’

Broad looked doubtful. ‘No call for anything fancy like that in the fo’c’sle, miss.’

‘Oh well, never mind. Anything soft and clean will do. Old shirts would be fine, especially if they are linen or cotton. I will need to tear them up. But I’ll make sure they are replaced,’ she promised quickly.

‘Don’t you go fretting about that just now, miss,’ Broad said. ‘You got more’n enough on your mind.’

Far too much. Kerenza forced a smile. ‘I must get back. I promised I wouldn’t be long.’

‘You go and tell Mr Penrose, then, miss,’ Toy said. ‘I’ll bring a tray to your cabin soon as the kettle have boiled again.’

At the door Kerenza hesitated. ‘You will try to be quiet, won’t you?’ she begged. ‘Lady Russell doesn’t – she’s anxious none of the other passengers is disturbed.’

‘Yes, and we all know who she mean by that,’ Broad muttered darkly. ‘Can’t say as I blame her neither. One partic’lar person – naming no names – have done nothing but complain since coming aboard. I seen her kind before. Wouldn’t give you the time of day if she could charge for it. And about as much use as a ripped sail. Well, we seen that the other day. But you can forget her, miss. She won’t wake.’

Kerenza fought the overwhelming temptation to ask how he could be so sure. She felt guilty already that she had not stopped him. Asking him to explain was completely out of the question. But it seemed Broad was determined she should know why.

‘Doses herself, she do, from a great bottle of paregoric. Billy seen it when he collected the slops. It was full when she come aboard but ’tis near enough empty now.’ He nodded confidently. ‘She won’t wake, miss.’

Kerenza tried not to show her shock. If Betsy Woodrow had consumed a bottle of camphorated tincture of opium in ten days she must have the constitution of an ox. Or be accustomed to it. She turned to go, swept by a wave of sympathy for the minister.

Opening the saloon door into the passage, and greeted once again by the loud, saw-like snores, Kerenza released the breath she had been holding. Back inside the cabin, she crouched beside Judith.

‘Broad found two tin bottles and is filling them. He’ll bring them along as soon as he finds something to wrap them in. And Toy is making some tea. How are you?’

About to answer, Judith screwed her eyes shut, her face contorting as another pain gripped her, clearly longer and stronger than earlier ones.

Kerenza watched, feeling wretchedly helpless. Then, acting on instinct, she abandoned diffidence and caution and slipped her hand into Judith’s.

Judith gripped her fingers tightly. As the pain passed her face relaxed and, opening her eyes, she smiled tiredly. ‘You are such a comfort. A cup of tea sounds wonderful.’

‘I have to leave you again.’

‘Must you?’

‘For a few minutes only. The doctor may have left some medical books behind. As this is the first time for both of us I want to be sure I do everything properly.’

Judith moved her head uneasily on the pillow. ‘Please don’t be long. I know it’s foolish of me, but when I am alone I start to feel afraid.’

‘No, you are not to worry.’ Kerenza projected into her voice all the confidence and reassurance she could muster. ‘Everything is going to be fine. Just try to rest. Between us we will cope admirably.’

A groove appeared between Judith’s brows. ‘This is not at all suitable, you know.’

Glancing round the cabin, Kerenza shrugged. ‘Well, no, it’s not,’ she agreed. ‘These are not the surroundings anyone would have
chosen
, but –’

‘No,’ Judith broke in. ‘I mean it’s not suitable that you, given your age and unmarried status, should have to –’

‘Now you sound just like Mrs Woodrow.’

Though weak and a little breathless, Judith’s laugh was genuine. ‘God forbid.’

‘I promise you, I have a good idea of what will happen. It’s one of the many benefits of living in a village. One overhears all kinds of useful things in shops and at tea parties when the married ladies are talking.’ Squeezing Judith’s hand she stood up. ‘I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.’

Outside in the dark passage she leant against the bulkhead, trembling slightly from reaction and shocked at the ease and fluency with which she had embroidered the truth – no, lied. Yet what else could she have done? Judith’s labour had begun and all the wishes in the world would not halt it now. Of course it would be better, safer, and more suitable if among the passengers there were a married woman who had borne children of her own. Such a person would be of far greater use to Judith than herself. But there was only her. One thing she was sure of, and it was plain common sense: the mother-to-be needed to be kept calm and as free of worry as possible.

Circumstances could hardly be worse. If bluff, even lies, would help Judith through her ordeal, then she would supply them. Judith had befriended and protected her. The hours ahead offered an opportunity to repay that kindness.

Her father’s cabin was dark as she passed. Leaning close, she heard the slow reverberation of deep sleep. But a strip of light beneath the captain’s door indicated that Nick was still awake, even at this hour.

Her pulse quickened and she was suddenly acutely aware of the loose braid hanging over her right shoulder, the old shawl tied across her gown, and her bare legs. She shut her mind to such concerns. This was not about her. Right now, except to Judith, she was of no importance. It was Judith who mattered. She raised a hand and tapped softly.

‘Yes?’ He sounded preoccupied and very tired.

Bracing herself she opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it again, all in one swift movement.

‘Ker – Miss Vyvyan?’ he corrected himself. Dropping the pen with which he had been writing, he rose quickly to his feet and slid out from behind the table.

Jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms, shirt loose at the neck where threads of dark hair curled at the base of his throat, the intimacy of his dishevelled appearance made her once more aware of her own. A wave of heat engulfed her. She was glad to be outside the circle of light cast by the lamp.

Anxious that he should not misconstrue the secrecy of her visit, or her reasons for coming, she launched quickly into explanation.

‘I’m so sorry to disturb you. But both Toy and Broad thought you should be informed at once. I would have told you anyway, though perhaps not quite yet –’

He raised a hand to stop her. ‘Told me what?’

He looked so tired.

‘It’s Lady Russell. She’s not – That is, she’s –’ She faltered.

‘Is she unwell? She must be, otherwise you would not be here. What’s wrong? I thought – Did you not tell me she was unharmed by her accident?’

Alert for accusation, Kerenza heard only an effort to wrench his thoughts from whatever had occupied them before her arrival and focus on this new development.

‘I did, and she was. She’s not ill exactly –’ She gave up. There was no time to dress the matter in tactful phrases. She moistened her lips. ‘The pains she was having are not, after all, the result of a pulled muscle. I think the baby is coming.’

Nick stiffened. ‘Are you sure?’

Lifting her palms, Kerenza blurted, ‘I’m not sure of anything. But
she
believes it to be the case. Anyway, the reason I’m here – Toy says the doctor might have left some medical textbooks behind. If he did, I’m hoping one of them will have a chapter on – on how to manage a confinement. He thought they might have been stored in one of the sea berths?’

Nick shook his head. ‘No, they are definitely not there. But it’s possible –’ Turning, he wrenched up the seat on which he’d been sitting and looked into the space beneath. As he dropped it again, Kerenza’s heart fell with it and she clasped her hands together, trying to contain her anxiety. Moving to the other side and propping the seat against the back, he reached in, raked around, and lifted out two battered volumes, their leather covers scratched and fraying at the corners. Replacing the seat, he opened the top one.

‘
Observations on the Diseases Incident to Seamen
,’ he read off the title page. ‘I hardly think you are likely to find any help here.’

Holding her breath in desperate hope, she watched him run his index finger down the list of contents. ‘May I have the other one? If we both look –’

Glancing up, he passed her the second book. ‘Have you considered asking Mrs Woodrow –?’

‘No.’ She didn’t wait for him to finish. ‘Mrs Woodrow is not a mother. Besides, Ju – Lady Russell asked me not to wake her. In fact, she forbade it. She – she was kind enough to say that she prefers my company.’ She heard the note of defiance, but it was too late. She could not take it back now. Let him make of it what he would.

‘Who could blame her?’ he said softly, returning his gaze to the page. ‘Mrs Woodrow may possess some excellent qualities, but if compassion and kindness are among them, they remain well-hidden. Whereas you –’

Kerenza’s breath caught and her heart gave a great leap.

‘According to Toy, who has good reason to know, you possess both in quantity.’

Hot, confused, she bent her head over the book, angling it toward the light and turning the pages with trembling fingers.

Nick cleared his throat. ‘Please believe I intend no offence, but have you any experience of – in these matters?’

She shook her head. She’d had no experience of battle wounds either. And while she had watched, helpless, the captain had died. She closed her eyes, willing the terror away. Suddenly a spark of hope flared and she looked up at him.

‘Have you?’

His eyes grew wide, and had the situation not been so fraught she might have laughed at his expression. ‘No!’

She shrugged, trying to hide disappointment and the stirring of fear. ‘I just thought perhaps – Broad mentioned two previous occasions –’

‘Both were managed by the doctor. Also the lady had a companion with her to assist.’

‘I must get back.’ She turned to leave, clutching the book like a talisman. She had not, at first glance, found what she sought, but it might yet be there. ‘I promised I would not be long.’

He followed her. ‘I will tell Toy to move your trunk into my cabin.’ Shock jerked her head round and she saw his startled frown as he shook his head, indicating a sliding door in the bulkhead above the seat. ‘I’m sleeping in one of the sea berths.’

The sudden tightening round his mouth told her he had not been able yet to move into his uncle’s sleeping cabin. Remembering the smells, the blood-soaked rags and sodden blanket, she shuddered, and understood. That was how he had known the doctor’s books were not where Toy had suggested.

‘Surely it would be easier for you and Lady Russell if you had more space?’

Of course it would. Hot with embarrassment, she strove for dignity. ‘Thank you.’

Leaving the day cabin, acutely aware of him behind her, so close, yet on opposite sides of a chasm of hurt and misunderstanding, she glimpsed two blacker shadows silhouetted in the saloon doorway.

Chapter Eleven

‘I got the bottles here, miss. All right, Mr Penrose?’ Broad murmured.

Tucking the book under her arm, Kerenza took them. Now wrapped in strips of blanket, their warmth was instantly comforting. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘Tea’s here, miss,’ Toy added.

‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ She left Nick conferring with the two men and went into the cabin. Tossing the book onto her cot, she placed one bottle by Judith’s feet then leant in to put the other at her back.

‘How often are the pains coming?’

Releasing a shuddering breath, Judith drew another and let it out more easily. ‘That was the first since you left.’

How long had she been with Nick? Ten minutes? Less?

‘Toy is waiting outside with the tea. And to afford us more space, Mr Penrose has suggested taking my trunk to his cabin now that he has moved into the captain’s. May I allow them in to remove it?’

‘Yes.’

Kerenza heard the uncertainly and guessed Judith felt keenly the indignity of her situation. ‘It will only take a moment, then we will be private again.’

‘They won’t disturb Mrs Woodrow, will they?’

‘According to Broad,’ Kerenza confided as she helped Judith lever herself up against the pillows, ‘even cannon fire would not disturb Mrs Woodrow tonight. Apparently she is a firm believer in the sedative powers of paregoric.’

Judith blew a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God. But I doubt Mr Woodrow is. I would be happier if he were not woken.’

As Kerenza opened the door, Toy thrust two cups into her hands.

‘No use bringing a tray, miss,’ he hissed. ‘’T’would have slid about all over the place. I thought cups would be easier.’

Passing one cup to Judith, Kerenza stood in front of the cot, a human shield, while the two men lifted her trunk and manoeuvred it out into the passage. She gulped down the tea. Hot and strong, it revived and steadied her. As she followed Broad and Toy to close the door, Nick was waiting.

‘Is there anything else you need?’

Kerenza thought hard. ‘Broad said I might have two shirts from the slop chest, for clean rags? A spare blanket would be useful. An old one,’ she added quickly, ‘in case – there could – it might get –’

‘Yes, I understand,’ he interrupted much to her relief.

‘A bucket, again an old one, and hot water.’

‘Would you like another lamp?’

‘Oh yes, that would be marvellous.’

‘Shall I take that?’ He indicated her empty cup.

‘Thank you.’ Handing it to him, she was overwhelmed by a confusion of yearning and uncertainty. It would be foolish to read too much into his willingness to help. No doubt his gratitude was genuine. But she must never forget that Judith was an important passenger and his responsibility. It was natural – indeed, to be expected – that he would do everything possible to secure the comfort and safety of the wife of an important member of the Governor’s staff. But until the packet reached the Rock it was in
her
desperately nervous and inexperienced hands that the wellbeing of both Judith and her baby lay.

‘I’ll bring everything as soon as I –’

‘You need not come yourself,’ Kerenza blurted. ‘One of the stewards can –’

His expression hardened and she sensed his withdrawal. ‘As you wish.’ Abruptly he turned away.

She was angry with herself, and with him, for there was no time now to explain – even had he been willing to listen – her awareness that even at this hour he had still been working and that in coming to his cabin she had interrupted him. She closed the door. Drawing a deep breath she hoped would calm the turbulence inside and refocus her attention, she fixed a smile to her mouth as she turned to Judith.

‘Are you warmer now?’

‘I am, thank you. And the tea has eased my thirst. Did you find a book?’

‘Yes.’ Lifting it from her cot, Kerenza carried it closer to the lamp.

‘Can you see to read?’

‘Yes.’ She checked the chapter list again. ‘Mr Penrose has kindly offered another lamp. It should be here shortly. Ah, I think I’ve found what we need.’

‘Good.’ The strain in Judith’s voice brought Kerenza’s head up. Dropping the book, she knelt and held Judith’s hand as her breathing quickened, and her lips peeled back from her teeth in a grimace of agony. Drawing her legs up, Judith writhed as the contraction gathered strength, peaked, and slowly subsided. She sagged against the pillows, and passed her hand across her face.

Sensing this was no time for soothing platitudes – comfort and reassurance required confident actions –Kerenza snatched up the book again and read swiftly. She turned the page, and turned it back in disbelief. That was
all?
Wanting to scream with frustration, instead she clamped her jaws together. Why should there be more? After all, it was not doctors who attended and supervised confinements, but midwives. And midwives learnt by apprenticeship and practice, not from books. She would just have to manage on the little information there was.

She read it again to imprint it on her memory. Then a soft tap on the door announced the arrival of Broad with a blanket, three clean but badly frayed shirts, and a wooden bucket. Behind him stood Toy with a lantern and a large jug of steaming water.

Putting blanket and shirts on the top cot, standing the jug in the bucket then wedging it in a corner to ensure it wouldn’t topple or spill, Kerenza lit the lantern. The additional light was welcome. Being able to see more clearly would make everything if not easier, at least a little less difficult. Hanging it from a hook on the bulkhead, Kerenza knelt beside Judith.

‘May I get a sheet and towel from your trunk?’

‘My dear girl.’ Judith smiled weakly. ‘You don’t need to ask. Take whatever you want. I have some clean shifts in there somewhere. Cut them up if you need to. They will provide a soft wrapping for the baby.’

Lifting the lid, Kerenza took out what she needed, plus a clean nightdress and the little nightshirt Judith had been embroidering. It was not quite finished. She glanced over her shoulder as she heard the tell-tale change in Judith’s breathing. Crossing the small space once more, she crouched, holding one of Judith’s hands in hers while with the other she smoothed back the hair from Judith’s sweat-dampened forehead.

‘You are so good and attentive,’ Judith gasped when she could speak again. ‘But I fear that if you leave what you’re doing each time I have a pain, then nothing will be ready.’

She wasn’t alone in that fear. Kerenza could tell the pains were coming faster. ‘All right, but the moment you want me to stop and be with you, please say so.’

Folding the old blanket into a thick pad about two and a half feet square, she covered it with the remains of her torn sheet, then laid the oldest and most ragged of the shirts on top. Next, she found her scissors and began to cut up the remaining shirts into napkins and pads. She was still apprehensive. But having things to do made it easier to set her nervousness aside. Lastly, she cut up two cambric shifts, taking narrow strips from one as binders for the baby’s cord.

Minutes ticked into hours, and the strength and frequency of the contractions increased. But, growing visibly more exhausted, Judith sank into apathy. She no longer made any attempt to talk or even to respond during the brief respite between pains.

Anxiety coiled in Kerenza’s stomach, forming a tight knot. Was this what marriage and motherhood were about? When she had overheard whispers, seen eyes rolled heavenward, she had suspected exaggeration in order to win admiration or sympathy. No longer was she surprised that married women never spoke of such things in detail. For surely if girls were told the truth of what they might expect, the reality rather than the nebulous rosy dream, how many would opt to remain single? One would need to love very deeply to be willing to bear such pain. Yet what other life was there for a woman when her status depended upon marriage?

Perhaps if one were loved enough, or ambitious enough, then all this agony was a price worth paying. But how many knew when they walked down the aisle that this would be the result? How many, even if they were told, would truly believe it?

Eventually, after once again wiping Judith’s face and throat with a damp cloth, she made a decision. ‘I’m going to fetch my box from the trunk.’ Surely there was something in it that might afford a little relief?

Her chest heaving, Judith didn’t respond. Kerenza wondered if she had even heard. Plum-coloured shadows had developed beneath her eyes.

Climbing stiffly to her feet, Kerenza wiped her hands on her dress and quietly opened the door. As she emerged, blinking, she was astonished to see the grey light of dawn filtering down the companionway. The night over, it was a new day. From the Woodrows’ cabin the snores continued unabated. Hearing a sound, she turned to see Broad appear in the saloon doorway, rubbing his face. ‘Any news, miss?’

She shook her head. ‘Not yet.’

‘Can I get you anything?’ He staggered toward her down the angled passage.

‘Have you been there all night?’

‘Seemed best, miss. In case you wanted something.’

‘That is kind. Some more hot water, please. I’ll fetch the jug.’

‘Be long will it, do you think?’

She spread her hands, worried, helpless. ‘I hope not, for Lady’s Russell’s sake.’ Ducking into the cabin, she returned with the jug and the half-full bucket.

‘You’ll have ’em both back in two shakes,’ he promised. ‘I kept the fire in all night.’

As he disappeared into the saloon again, Kerenza started toward the companionway. Nick’s former cabin was on the right at the bottom, opposite her father’s. The light was briefly blocked and, as she heard footsteps on the brass stairs, her heart gave its now familiar semi-painful leap. But it was Maggot who turned toward her.

‘Baby is here?’

Kerenza shook her head. ‘I wish it were. I don’t know how long – She’s so terribly tired,’ she blurted. ‘And the pains are so severe –’

‘She need
kif
,’ Maggot announced.

‘What’s that?’

‘Is from a plant. You can smoke or chew. But for Lady Russell I make a drink. Is very good, take pain away for short time.’

It sounded wonderful. But Kerenza was wary. ‘I’m not sure if –’

Maggot stepped very close, his gaze level with her own, and suddenly as hard as Cornish granite. ‘You think I harm her?’ he demanded softly.

‘No.’ Kerenza felt her tension lift, knowing it was the truth. ‘Thank you. Please bring it as soon as you can.’ Turning, she went back into the cabin.

Judith was able to swallow only a few mouthfuls of the brown liquid, and shuddered violently at the taste. But its effect was swift, softening and smoothing out the creases of agony. The contractions were almost continuous, separated only by a few seconds. Kerenza took a last look at the book then knelt beside the cot.

‘I think it’s time to get you ready.’

Nodding briefly, Judith clasped Kerenza’s arm and leant forward so the pillows could be propped up. Then she tried to help by raising her body so Kerenza could slide the thick pad beneath her.

Pouring fresh hot water into the basin, Kerenza bathed Judith’s lower body, briefly shy at performing such an intimate task, yet deeply moved by Judith’s trust and acceptance. As she wiped her dry with a rag, saving the towel for the baby, Kerenza was startled by the board-like rigidity of Judith’s abdomen as the contraction took hold.

Replacing the sheet and blanket over Judith’s hips, she emptied the water into the chamber pot – she had another use for the bucket – poured a little more into the basin and, with Lizzie Gendall’s advice echoing in her ears, carefully washed the scissors.

Faster and harder the contractions came. Judith’s lips were beginning to crack and the lamplight gleamed on the perspiration that dewed her face and darkened the hair at her temples.

‘Kerenza,’ she gasped suddenly. ‘It’s – I have to –’ She curved forward, straining, panting, then straining some more.

Throwing back the sheet, Kerenza saw a gush of fluid, a bulge, and then the baby’s head appeared.

‘Wait! Wait!’ she cried in terrified urgency, using her little finger to clear the baby’s mouth.

‘I can’t –’ Judith gasped, grunting with effort as the next contraction pushed out first one shoulder, then the other. Then, in a slippery rush, the rest of the baby slithered out into Kerenza’s waiting hands, still tethered to Judith’s body by a spiralled silver-blue cord.

‘Oh Judith.’ Choked with awe and elation, Kerenza could barely speak.

Judith heaved herself up on her elbows, her voice cracking. ‘What –?’

‘A little girl.’ Tears were streaming down Kerenza’s cheeks and she had to force the words past a lump in her throat so big it threatened to choke her. ‘You have a beautiful baby girl. She’s perfect, absolutely perfect.’

Now she understood. This moment, this wonderful, incredible moment was worth all the hours of effort and pain. But her delight was briefly eclipsed by the memory of Nick’s face as he had walked past her in Falmouth’s main street. The sense of loss was crippling.

With infinite care she lifted the tiny, twitching body, marvelling at its warmth, its aliveness, and laid it on Judith’s stomach so she could see and touch and be reassured. The baby gave a thin “
wa-aa-aa
” and waved her arms.

‘Listen to her.’ Judith laughed. ‘She sounds like an angry kitten. Why not, my darling,’ she crooned, stroking her daughter. Then she gave a sharp cry as another contraction wrenched her.

Kerenza tore her gaze from the baby as the dark mass of the afterbirth appeared. She must concentrate, for though the worst was now over, there was still much to do. While Judith talked softly to her daughter, her exhaustion banished by euphoria, Kerenza tied the cord a hand-span from the baby’s body, and again a further inch beyond. Then, swallowing, fearful it must surely cause pain, she picked up the scissors and, gritting her teeth, cut it. The baby seemed oblivious.

Pouring more clean water into the basin, she set it on the tilted floor beside the cot so Judith could see. ‘As soon as she is washed and swaddled you will be able to hold her properly.’

‘She is beautiful, isn’t she?’ Judith lay back, her head turned sideways on the pillows, watching with tired. hungry eyes as Kerenza lifted the flailing baby and lowered her into the water.