Alone Beneath The Heaven (52 page)

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Authors: Rita Bradshaw

BOOK: Alone Beneath The Heaven
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‘Tell him we’ll meet him at the hospital.’
 
‘She said for you to meet us at the hospital.’ Another pause and then Nancy laughed before saying, ‘All right, all right, lad, we’ll wait here, don’t you fret. An’ drive carefully mind, it’ll be hours yet. Aye, I’ll tell her.’
 
Nancy put down the receiver. ‘He sends his love, bless him. By, you’d never think he was a doctor an’ used to all this, the way he’s panicking.’ Sarah grinned at her, and then, as Nancy added, ‘Any pains yet, lass?’ shook her head.
 
‘No, not yet. This will be a doddle.’
 
‘Aye, maybe, but don’t count your chickens afore they’re hatched, now then. There’s some hard work ahead, lass. Well, your man’s on his way back, so do you want me to call Florrie at the old folks’ home an’ get her to tell Maggie an’ Rebecca? An’ I’ll need to let Bill know where I am.’
 
‘Maggie and Florrie are away with the old folk at the home on that weekend coach trip, but you could leave a message for them for when they get back, and perhaps Bill could pop round and tell Rebecca?’
 
It had amazed Sarah, over the last four weeks since she had found her mother, how easily Nancy had fitted into their lives, and they into Nancy and Bill’s. It seemed ridiculous to say that it was as though they had never been parted, but it was true, and each time Sarah thought of it the wonder never ceased to thrill her.
 
And Rodney, he had been so good. Her heart glowed as she thought of her husband. Not a spark of jealousy, not the slightest bit of impatience or resentment at her and Nancy’s absorption in each other. Oh, he was lovely. And her mother adored him. Maggie had been a bit of a problem at first . . .
 
She shifted in her seat as the first cramp-like pain, slight but definitely there nevertheless, came and went.
 
But between the three of them they had reassured Maggie that her place within the family was sacrosanct, and now the old woman acted as though Sarah’s search to find her beginnings had been all her idea. And she loved Jack’s children, they were already treating her like a favourite grandma.
 
The thought of the three little boys brought Sarah’s mind back to what was happening to her, and she reached out a hand to her mother now as she said, ‘Don’t forget you promised to stay until it’s over. I want you there.’
 
‘I’ll stay unless you tell me to go, lass, never you fear. Mind you, I think it’s that man of yours that will need more encouragement from what I can make out. Now, let’s get your case down an’ be ready and waiting when he comes.’
 
Pray God, she was going to be all right. Pray God.
 
Once in the bedroom upstairs Nancy found herself on her knees by the bed, her fingers reaching for the rosary in her pocket as she began to pray with a fervency that had been missing for years, her heart and soul straining out to the Almighty.
 
God wouldn’t give her her lass back only to take her away again so soon, would He? she asked herself some moments later when she rose slowly to her feet. But her lass’s birth had nearly killed her, and the subsequent infection and lack of treatment had meant no more babies. What if she had passed her weakness on to Sarah, like Molly Pearson in Duncan Street? She had died giving birth to her Emily, and Emily had died when little Gladys came . . .
 
‘Stop it, now. What’s the matter with you?’ She whispered the words out loud with her eyes tightly closed and her heart pounding. She
hadn’t
died with her Sarah, that was the point here, and Sarah wasn’t going to die either. Her mam had been fond of saying that you make your own luck in this world, and that was about the only true thing Minnie McHaffie had ever said. Her Sarah was a strong woman, strong in mind and body, and she was healthy too. When she’d had Sarah all those years ago she had been in no state to give birth to a bairn, the lack of nourishment and ill treatment she had endured for years at her mam’s hands making her weaker than a child herself. Two days and two nights her labour had gone on, and that wouldn’t be allowed now either. She had begged her mam to fetch someone, the midwife, a neighbour, anyone . . .
 
Enough. Nancy pushed the memories aside. That was then and this was now, and the blight Minnie McHaffie had put on all their lives was over. Sarah had finished it, first by fighting back and refusing to die, and then by carving a life for herself and searching out her roots. The mould was broken, Sarah was going to be fine.
 
Nancy stood up, folding her arms tightly under her breasts and swaying slightly as she breathed in and out deeply for a few moments, before reaching for the case at her feet. She had never thought to see this day, never dreamt she might hold her own grandchild in her arms, but now the years stretching ahead had taken on a glow that made her count her blessings a hundred times a day. She was a fortunate woman. Aye, she was a very fortunate woman to receive her bairn back from the dead. She raised her face heavenwards, her eyes shut as she whispered, ‘Thank you, thank you.’
 
 
‘Is it always like this?’
 
‘Aye, hinny, aye. Ask the doctor here.’ Nancy was trying to make light of it as she waved her hand at Rodney who was standing at the other side of the hospital bed.
 
‘You’re doing fine.’ Rodney nodded to emphasize his words as he said again, ‘You’re doing fine.’
 
They had arrived at the hospital at midday and now it was almost midnight, and Sarah was tired. She felt that her stomach was caught in a huge vice that squeezed and squeezed until she couldn’t bear it a second longer, at which point the vice eased until the next time it gripped her flesh. She couldn’t believe women went through this torture time and time again. But the medical staff didn’t seem worried . . .
 
She glanced at her mother now, knowing the pain would become excruciating again in a few moments, and said, ‘Was it like this with me?’
 
‘Aye, aye, but somehow, the minute you see its face, you’ll forget the pain, lass. If the good Lord hadn’t made it so, the human race would’ve died out a long time ago.’
 
‘I don’t think Rebecca was in as much pain as this. Or no, maybe she was, thinking back. She shouted a bit.’
 
‘Everyone’s different, lass, but it’s all the same in the end. Out they pop.’
 
Sarah wished it would pop out. She could understand now why Rebecca had gone hysterical at the thought of her being sent out of the room when she had been giving birth to Lucy-Ann. This might be the most natural thing in the world, according to men, but she wouldn’t have believed it could hurt so much.
 
With the next pain Sarah got the urge to push, and the midwife sent her mother and Rodney out of the room while she examined her patient.
 
‘Good.’ She had begun to get worried over the last half an hour or so, but the cervix was nicely dilated and the girl still wasn’t too tired to give some good pushes. ‘Now you can start doing some work, Mrs Mallard. I always think it’s better at this last stage, you don’t just have to lie there and take it any more.’
 
‘Can I have my husband and my mother back in please?’
 
‘It’s against hospital procedure, Mrs Mallard, and you are going to be too busy to worry about them.’
 

Please?

 
The midwife was a stout, buxom woman with an iron face and a heart of gold, and she had been touched by the story which had unfolded during the long afternoon and evening about this little family, so now she said, after a moment’s pause, ‘Well, your husband
is
a doctor, isn’t he, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask your mother to wait outside by herself . . .’
 
‘Thank you, oh, thank you.’
 
 
‘I’m petrified, Rod.’ Outside in the corridor Nancy had sunk down on to a hard-backed chair against the wall and sat there for some moments without speaking, but now she raised her eyes to her son-in-law, and Rodney saw that they were wet. ‘She’s having a hard time of it.’
 
‘Hey, come on, Nancy.’ He sat down by her side, his arm round her shoulders, and Nancy made a little distraught sound in her throat and turned her face into his chest. ‘She’s going to be fine, I promise you, and this isn’t an unusually long labour for a first child.’
 
‘I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her.’
 
‘Nothing is going to happen to her, Nancy. Trust me.’
 
‘But you don’t know for sure.’
 
‘Yes I do.’
 
He had known, within days of the two women being reunited, that although the physical similarity was striking, their personalities were very different. Nancy had none of her daughter’s drive and determination to make things happen, and it had further emphasized to Rodney how very special his wife was. Nancy’s salvation had been in meeting her Bill. The man adored her, worshipped the very ground she walked on, and that was good, Nancy needed that.
 
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I am, I’m sorry, Rod.’ Nancy raised her head, swallowing and shutting her eyes tight for a moment as she scrubbed at them with a handkerchief, before looking straight at him as she said, ‘Don’t tell Sarah, will you, but I had a terrible time of it when she was born. An’ she’s so like me, slight, small-hipped. I know things are different these days under this national health system with all the care beforehand—’
 
‘They are, they are.’ He was gripping her hands now and shaking them slightly to emphasize his words. ‘And no two people are the same internally, Nancy, whatever they look like on the outside. Sarah might be completely different from you, so don’t assume she’ll have your difficulty.’
 
‘No, all right, lad.’ Nancy was embarrassed now, and it showed. In spite of being brought up in the worst of Sunderland’s slums, you didn’t talk about such things openly - not with a man at any rate. But he was a doctor. She echoed this thought now as she said, ‘Well you’re a doctor, you should know.’
 
‘Exactly.’
 
‘Oh, Rod.’ Her fingers moved in his grasp as she said, ‘I love her so much.’
 
‘I know.’ He smiled, his eyes tender. ‘So do I.’
 
And then the door opened, and the midwife beckoned them back in.
 
 
Benjamin Rodney Mallard came into the world an hour later, and with a loud lusty cry that made his mother raise her head to look at him. He was a big baby, with well rounded limbs and a shock of black hair that was already curling over his brow.
 
‘Oh, he’s beautiful.’ Sarah let herself fall back on the bed as she smiled at Rodney, who had tears of joy streaming down his face. ‘He’s absolutely beautiful.’
 
She caught a glimpse of her mother’s face which seemed to shimmer from the emotion radiating from it, and her smile deepened.
 
‘He’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.’ Rodney’s voice was reverent as the midwife handed him his son wrapped in a tiny linen sheet, and he examined each minute detail of the little face before placing him in Sarah’s arms and saying, ‘Our son, Sarah,
our son
. Thank you, my love, thank you.’
 
‘You did have a hand in producing him too,’ she said softly, her eyes loving him.
 
‘Only the easy part. I feel guilty about that, after all you’ve just gone through.’
 
‘You should.’ It was said with feeling, and then, ‘Here, Grandma.’ This was the moment she had longed for over the last weeks, the moment she had treasured in her heart, the moment she hoped would wash away all the years of heart-ache and tears Nancy had endured. ‘Your grandson.’
 
Nancy bent to kiss Sarah before she took the baby, and as Sarah felt her warm lips, and heard her whisper, ‘I love you so much, my darling,’ before she reached for her grandson and held him close to her heart, she knew she had been given it all.
 
This was love, this was the power of it - it was in Rodney’s smile, in the look on her mother’s face, in her son’s wide, unblinking eyes. She was all in all to each one of them, and they were everything to her.
 
The emotion which filled her was inexpressible, consuming the legacy of the past and taking her up and out of this world as it lifted her on the wings of a hundred thousand eagles. She reached out her hands to her family, her heart bursting with joy.
 
She was home.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Alone Beneath the Heaven
 
 
 
 
RITA BRADSHAW
 
 
 
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