The Bells of Little Woodford

by Catherine Jones

  As Bex made her way to the sitting room the doorbell rang.

  ‘And don’t you answer that. I’ll get it, you put your feet up,’ instructed Miles.

  Bex did as she was told and sat down gingerly. The scar was healing nicely but her tummy was still very sore. Quite apart from a zipper of stitches she had hideous trapped wind – which really didn’t help matters. Anyone who thought a caesarean section was easier than pushing had to be off their trolley. She could hear voices out in the hall and wondered who it was who had come round. She imagined it would be someone like Heather or Olivia or one of her other friends from the town. She rearranged the cushions to make herself comfortable and waited for her visitor to come into the sitting room.

  ‘I am very glad to hear you’re home,’ said a cut-glass accent.

  Bex twisted to look over the back of the sofa and instantly regretted it. ‘Ouch.’ Then she recovered her manners. ‘Miranda. How lovely to see you. I was going to come and see you in the next couple of days. I think I owe you a vast amount – you saved two lives on Monday.’

  Miranda walked around the sofa and perched on the armchair. ‘I’m actually rather surprised you didn’t recognise your symptoms, yourself,’ she said. Her tone of disapproval was unmistakable.

  Bex was a tiny bit taken aback at being ticked off like that. ‘I… well…’ She stopped and started again. ‘I’d had two children with no complications or difficulties and I assumed that this baby would be the same.’

  ‘Which it patently wasn’t.’

  ‘Yes, I know that now.’

  ‘But you must have had symptoms; felt unwell.’

  Bex shrugged and winced. ‘I did, but I put it down to the heatwave, to being a bit under the weather, to being that much older and running around after three other children. You know, I was busy and not really paying attention.’

  ‘You were pregnant and not paying attention?’ Miranda was incredulous.

  ‘Yes, and I’m sorry.’ Although Bex wondered why on earth she was apologising to Miranda. She decided to shift the focus away from herself. ‘But what fascinates me was how on earth did you know what was wrong with me? I thought you said you’re a lawyer, not a doctor.’

  ‘I am… was. I dealt with medical negligence cases mostly.’ There was a pause. ‘Including my own.’

  ‘Oh.’ Bex didn’t know what else to say.

  ‘I lost my own daughter.’

  ‘Oh, Miranda.’ Bex’s eyes filled. Ignoring the discomfort she leaned forward and clasped Miranda’s hand. ‘Oh, Miranda, I am so desperately sorry.’

  ‘I had pre-eclampsia. I didn’t know it but I went to my midwife to say that I didn’t feel right. She said all the things I had were normal – back pain, swollen ankles, nausea…’ Miranda stopped while she composed herself. ‘Only they weren’t.’ The two women gazed at each other, their faces wet with tears. ‘But it was a long time ago now.’

  ‘But that’s not something you’d get over, is it?’

  Miranda shook her head. ‘No. So that was how I knew.’

  ‘And you saved me and my baby.’

  ‘All I did was ring for an ambulance. I think anyone would have done the same, I just happened to be the person who did.’

  ‘Even so… I am totally indebted.’

  ‘It’s kind of you to say so. Anyway, I gather you had a baby girl, which is wonderful. Miles is like a dog with two tails.’

  ‘He is, isn’t he?’

  ‘And have you decided on a name yet?’

  ‘We’re inclined towards Emily. Such a pretty name, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, I love that name.’

  ‘And Miles and I would like to ask you to be a godmother to her.’

  Miranda began to cry again. ‘I would utterly love to be her godmother. But only if I’m allowed to spoil her.’

  Of course.’

  ‘Then, thank you.’

  *

  It was early evening when the family returned to the house after visiting little Emily at the hospital. The visit had taken some time as Bex and Miles had to take turns to amuse the other children as Emily’s siblings were only allowed on the unit one by one. They were still completely fascinated by her daintiness and her tiny fingernails but almost more fascinated by the bleeps and other rhythmical noises that were the constant background to life on this ward.

  When they got home Bex, who still tired easily, returned to her place on the sofa, Miles went into the kitchen to knock up some supper for them all and Megan supervised Alfie’s bath. Lewis sat on the sofa by Bex and read to her from his school library book. It was, thought Bex, an almost perfect scene of domestic harmony – and it would be total domestic harmony when Emily came home.

  The peace was shattered by the doorbell. Bex sighed. Who the hell was it at this hour?

  ‘Run and see who it is, Lewis,’ she said.

  Obediently he jumped up and ran to get it.

  ‘Granny! It’s Granny!’ he shrieked.

  ‘Mum?’ called Bex. She was bewildered. Obviously there had been loads of phone calls between them as Granny May had wanted daily updates on Bex’s baby but she’d never mentioned coming down. And if Granny May was here, who was looking after Grandpa?

  Bex heaved herself off the sofa and tottered into the hall.

  ‘Helen.’ She just managed to stop herself from exclaiming, What the fuck? Instead she managed to say, ‘How lovely.’ She noticed the huge suitcase at Helen’s feet.

  Lewis was jumping up and down hanging onto her arm and then there was a commotion on the stairs as Alfie, dripping wet and stark naked, came bounding down them, followed by Megan clutching his towel.

  ‘I tried to call from the airport but I couldn’t get a reply,’ said Granny Helen.

  Megan managed to catch Alfie, pick him up and swaddle him in the towel before she proffered him to Granny Helen for a kiss.

  ‘We’ve just got back from the hospital,’ explained Bex. Then she added, ‘How long are you staying for?’ She didn’t mean the question to come out quite as it did. Even to her own ears it sounded rather graceless.

  Helen sniffed. ‘I can always find a hotel.’

  Megan put Alfie down and he held his towel around him with one hand while he grabbed Helen’s other arm.

  ‘No. No, I didn’t mean it like that. No, you absolutely must stay here. We’ve masses of space.’ She glanced again at the gigantic case. Oh, dear Lord, it looked as if she was planning on staying for weeks.

  ‘Good. I came over to make sure that my grandchildren are being properly looked after.’ There was a pause before Helen added, ‘You must be so distracted and run off your feet with the baby in hospital and everything.’

  There was a definite inference, thought Bex, that she and Miles couldn’t be trusted. That she was an unfit mother. She decided to ignore it. Pick your battles, she told herself.

  Miles came out of the kitchen. ‘Ah, I thought I heard the bell ring. Helen, how lovely.’

  For a second Bex was baffled. How the hell did Miles know who she was? Then she remembered they’d had a video call.

  ‘Why don’t you go and sit in the sitting room with Bex while I make up the spare bed and take your case upstairs? It’s spag bol for supper – I trust that’s OK? If not you must say and I’ll prepare something else. Would you like a drink?’

  ‘No, that’s fine. Megan, could you put some clothes on Alfie before he catches his death. And no, I don’t need a drink. I can wait for dinner.’

  Bex led the way into the sitting room and sat down gingerly. She decided she needed to build bridges. ‘It’s so thoughtful of you to come over to help us. As you said, we’re quite busy. It’ll be easier tomorrow as the schools go back.’

  ‘So… how is the baby?’

  ‘Emily is doing really well. The doctors are very pleased with her progress.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad.’ She didn’t sound it. ‘And you?’

  ‘Oh… still sore. Miles is being wonderful.’

  �
��Is he?’

  ‘I don’t know how I’d manage without him.’

  ‘Well, if it hadn’t been for him you wouldn’t be in this situation, would you?’

  Bex forced a smile. ‘No, but I am so pleased to have another daughter. I think my family is now totally perfect and complete.’ Apart from you, you old bag. ‘And the boys and Megan adore Emily. Things couldn’t be more lovely.’ Suck on that.

  Chapter 53

  Megan met Sophie on the corner of Sophie’s road, like they always did, and the pair headed towards the comp for the first day of the summer term.

  ‘How’s Bex and the baby?’ asked Soph.

  ‘They’re good. Emily is still in hospital and I think she’ll be there for a bit but the nurses say she’s doing really well for her size.’

  ‘That’s great. Everyone says that it was really scary at the time.’

  Megan nodded. She didn’t want to relive the moment when the ambulance raced onto the cricket pitch and Heather had found her and told her to be brave and everyone else was staring at her and the boys … and then she realised it was her stepmother who was on the stretcher. And then she remembered how it had been when her dad had been killed. ‘The paramedics are with her. She’s getting the best treatment,’ Heather had said. But that didn’t mean it would turn out well – Megan was only too well aware of that.

  ‘Yeah, well it’s fine now.’ And Megan told Sophie about baby Emily and how dinky she was and Sophie got all clucky and gooey.

  ‘I can’t wait to see her.’

  ‘And my gran from Cyprus has come over to help.’

  ‘That must be nice.’

  ‘Kind of. I don’t think she likes Miles.’

  Sophie was aghast. ‘Not like Miles?’

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  They were joined by Ashley who’d been waiting for them at the end of his road.

  ‘So what happened?’ he asked Megan outright. ‘Mum said your mum was taken really poorly and rushed into hospital.’

  Megan really didn’t want to go into the whole incident again. ‘The baby came early but all is well now.’

  ‘Oh…’ Ashley sounded as if he didn’t believe her. ‘Oh, Mum made it sound more serious than that.’

  No surprise there – everyone knew Amy exaggerated everything.

  *

  Helen was sitting at the kitchen table at The Beeches watching Miles and the two boys romp around in the garden. Alfie and Lewis were letting off steam after a day at school and, even though Helen heartily disapproved of Miles and his unfortunate liaison with her daughter-in-law, she was hard put to fault the way he looked after the children. Lewis and Alfie obviously adored him to the extent that they preferred him to read them a bedtime story over herself. And that rankled, if she was honest. As did the fact that he was a far superior cook to her and that Megan – whom Helen had thought would side with her over Miles usurping Richard’s position – seemed very fond of him too.

  Bex came into the kitchen. ‘I’m going to pop over to the hospital again for a few minutes. I thought you might like to come and meet Emily.’

  Helen contemplated the invitation and rather wished it hadn’t been extended as it would be churlish to say no. ‘I’d love to,’ she lied.

  ‘Good. Miles is going to supervise the boys’ homework while he cooks supper. He’s going to go over to sit with her later while I do baths and bed.’

  Twenty minutes later Bex keyed in the code to get them onto the NICU, they slathered their hands in the antiseptic liquid and then she led Helen to the cot. Bewildered, Helen looked at the technology, took in the noise and the incessant bleeping and the general air of bustle.

  ‘You get used to it,’ said Bex, reading Helen’s mind. ‘And the babies don’t care. And this,’ she said, lifting a tiny scrap out of its cot, ‘is Emily.’ She held her daughter out to Helen. ‘Would you like to hold her?’

  The minute baby was swaddled in a blanket and had a tube up her nose held in place by a sliver of sticky tape. Hesitantly Helen took her and looked down at her grandchildren’s half-sister. She wanted to dislike the child – it wasn’t Richard’s but that man’s – but her size and vulnerability shoved all of that away.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘She’s sweet.’

  Bex raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ she said wryly.

  Helen looked at her daughter-in-law. ‘I am sorry, I didn’t mean to. It’s just… it’s just…’

  ‘She’s not Richard’s? No, I know that and a part of me wishes she was. But I can’t turn the clock back and neither can you. Nothing can bring Richard back and I still miss him. Even with Miles in my life I miss him. And Lewis and Alfie need a father figure. Megan does too, but less so because she’s older – although in some way I think that also makes things harder for her. She has more memories; is more aware of what she’s lost. I tried to be both parents and, while I didn’t fail, Miles can give them so much more. I need so much more. And I like to think that Richard, being the lovely man he was,’ which made Helen preen, ‘would approve too.’

  Helen nodded. ‘Maybe.’ She gazed again at her step-granddaughter. ‘She reminds me of Lewis when he was tiny.’

  ‘Same mother,’ Bex reminded her.

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  *

  The next day, Miranda parked her car in the town centre and made her way to the little boutique that was situated down a side road behind the town hall. One thing she really did like about Little Woodford was the fact that, with the exception of the Co-op, the place contained very few chain stores. No, the shopping wasn’t great when she compared it with London, and the Co-op was a joke compared to the supermarkets she’d been used to but, equally, she didn’t have to battle with traffic fumes and overcrowded pavements. And these little indy stores did sell some lovely, quirky, eclectic and original things.

  She headed along the road towards her destination hoping that the baby-clothes shop would have something suitable – otherwise she’d have to find a gift for baby Emily online. While Miranda had no aversion at all to internet shopping, she wanted to pick something out herself; to feel the quality, to check the suitability and to be certain that it was perfect.

  ‘Miranda.’

  She stopped in her tracks and turned. The vicar’s wife. She suppressed a sigh and waited for some sort of smug dig about the bells.

  ‘Miranda, I’ve been wanting to see you. I meant to walk up to your home and call but… well… Easter is our busy time and everything just got away from me.’

  Which showed a deplorable lack of planning, in Miranda’s opinion. ‘And what can I do for you?’ she asked warily.

  ‘I wanted to thank you for your amazing quick-witted response to Bex’s illness. I am very fond of her, as are many local people and if the unthinkable had happened…’

  ‘But it didn’t.’

  ‘Because of you.’ Heather clasped Miranda’s hand and shook it warmly. ‘I know we’ve had our differences but maybe we can start again.’ She looked at Miranda hopefully.

  ‘I’m… I’m not sure.’

  ‘You may find you get used to the bells. You may find you come to like them. People do, you know.’

  Miranda rather doubted that and was wondering how to respond when Belinda joined them. ‘Miranda – just the person. The next time you’re in the pub, the drinks are on me. I owe you.’

  ‘What on earth for?’

  ‘For what you did for Bex.’

  ‘But…?’

  ‘No buts about it, dearie. You’re on free booze for quite a while.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’ve got to get on,’ said Belinda. ‘I’ve got the banking to do but you make sure you come along sometime soon. It isn’t just me that wants to thank you, quite a lot of our regulars do too. Promise?’

  Oh, why not. ‘Promise.’

  ‘They all want to shake your hand.’

  It was nice to suddenly be Mrs Popular. Miranda didn’t think she’d ever been in
this position before. ‘OK, I’d like that.’

  ‘Good.’

  As Miranda continued her way to the boutique, she recalled her visit to the town several months previously, on New Year’s Eve, when she’d felt such envy at the friendships of the other residents. Maybe being called ‘dearie’ by the pub landlady was meant as a compliment, a hand of friendship, a sign of being accepted. It was how she referred to people she liked – people like Bex, who was undeniably popular. Maybe informality wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  *

  It was a fortnight later that Miles and Bex were allowed to take Emily out of hospital and bring her home. The two weeks had definitely been made easier all round by the presence of Granny Helen who had helped with the childcare when Miles or Bex had wanted to be at the hospital. She was still undeniably tricky and could be prickly but relations between her and Bex had thawed. Maybe Helen, Bex had mused to Miles one night in bed, had realised that she wasn’t the mother from hell and had her children’s best interests at heart and that Miles was a nice guy and a brilliant dad.

  ‘It’s also been getting on for two years since Richard died,’ Miles had pointed out. ‘I imagine she’s coming to terms with what happened.’

  ‘I swear, when it first happened, she thought I had something to do with it. It was like she suspected me of putting out a contract on Richard — like I’d got him run over just to get my hands on the life insurance.’

  Miles had propped himself up on one elbow to look at Bex better. ‘You’re kidding me?’

  ‘That’s what it felt like.’

  ‘No wonder you two weren’t exactly bosom buddies.’

  ‘And we’d probably still be circling each other like cats about to fight if it hadn’t been for little Emily.’

  ‘I still can’t believe I’m really a dad,’ said Miles.

  ‘Well, you are. And you just wait till this apple-of-your-eye becomes a teenager and is all hormonal and slams doors and flounces.’

  ‘Emily will never do that.’

  Bex raised an eyebrow. ‘Good luck with that,’ was all she said.

  The next morning, after Emily had had her morning feed and was back in her Moses basket by the Aga fast asleep, Miles had got the children to school and Helen had got the washing out of the machine and was hanging it up in the garden in the late April sunshine, the doorbell rang.