A Daughter's Courage

by Kitty Neale

  ‘I don’t think he will, but I won’t let him hurt me no more. I don’t need him and neither does my baby,’ Yvonne said. She wished she believed her own words, but in truth she dreamed of Robbie being the perfect father, better than her own bullying dad had ever been.

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ Nelly said. ‘I wonder if you’ve got a boy or a girl in there.’

  ‘I think it’s a girl,’ Dottie said.

  Yvonne knew that they were trying to cheer her up and managed a smile as she said, ‘You must be hungry after all that shopping. If you like I’ll make you some sandwiches.’

  ‘No, love, your ankles are swollen and you need to take the weight off your feet. I’ll make the lunch.’

  ‘While you’re at it, get me a bit of cotton. You can guess what I want it for,’ Nelly said.

  ‘As long as Yvonne doesn’t mind,’ Dottie said.

  ‘Mind what?’

  ‘Nelly reckons if she puts her wedding ring on a bit of cotton and holds it over your belly, she can tell what you’re having.’

  ‘But how?’ Yvonne asked.

  Nelly smiled. ‘If you have the gift, it’s easy. I inherited it from my gran. She could see the future and she said I could too. I have to admit I do get strange feelings about stuff, but not visions like my late gran. Mind you, I’m always right when it comes to babies. I used to use a threaded needle, but I reckon my ring is more powerful. I was right about all four of my sister’s babies. Isn’t that right, Dottie?’

  ‘Yes, Yvonne, it irks me to say it but she was right, though of course there’s a fifty-fifty chance either way,’ Dorothy said jokingly.

  ‘Oh, please, do it to me, Nelly,’ Yvonne urged.

  Dorothy went to the kitchen to prepare the food and then came back with a piled-high plate and a reel of cotton from her sewing box. ‘Here you are,’ she said, handing the cotton to Nelly.

  Yvonne watched as Nelly threaded her ring onto it and then as instructed she lay perfectly still while it was suspended over her tummy.

  ‘Ooo, look at that, your tummy moved. It must be the baby kicking,’ Nelly observed.

  Yvonne smiled, used to feeling her baby kick, but then the ring started to move, slowly going round and round, gathering momentum.

  ‘It’s a girl!’ Nelly pronounced.

  ‘Told you,’ Dorothy chirped, ‘though I think you might be making the ring move.’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Nelly protested.

  Yvonne sat up and said, ‘I believe you, Nelly. I think I’m having a girl and I’m going to call her Rosie … my beautiful little Rosie.’ Yvonne rubbed her stomach tenderly.

  ‘Oh, that’s a lovely name,’ Dottie said, ‘and I can’t wait to meet my niece.’

  Yvonne smiled. Robbie might never love this baby, but Dottie would, and she’d be a lovely auntie. Adrian would be a lovely uncle too, and Rosie would have a family, which made her feel a surge of happiness. She’d try to be a good mum, and unlike her own mother, she’d never abandon her baby. Never!

  Chapter 51

  August passed and it was a Friday evening in mid-September when Adrian came home from work to hear Dorothy humming in the living room. It had been a long time since he’d found his wife in such good spirts. He knew it was hard for her to watch Yvonne’s stomach swell, and had held her at night when she’d cry, yearning for a baby herself.

  He couldn’t understand why she hadn’t yet fallen pregnant and was beginning to think that Dottie was right, that the miscarriage had damaged her beyond repair. She’d been to see the doctor, who had found nothing wrong, so he’d offered to pay for a specialist, but Dorothy refused, saying she couldn’t stand to be poked and prodded about any more.

  ‘Well, what’s all this?’ he asked, walking into the room to see another pile of baby paraphernalia.

  ‘It’s a Moses basket. I thought we should get one as there isn’t long to go, and I don’t believe that silly superstition about not buying stuff before the baby’s born. It’s amazing how much stuff a baby needs, but I think we’ve covered all the essentials now, with a few irresistible extras. I’ve had such a lovely time buying baby things. I just wish it was for our own.’

  Adrian sat next to Dottie and pulled her into his arms. ‘I’m sure you’ll be buying things for our own baby one day,’ he said to console her.

  ‘I hope so, but in the meantime I’ll enjoy lavishing my niece with beautiful things,’ Dorothy said.

  ‘Niece? How do you know she’s having a girl?’

  ‘Just a hunch.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Adrian smiled, then looked more serious. ‘I don’t want this to sound like I’m a miser, but I want you to work out how much you’ve spent so far on just the essential items.’

  ‘OK,’ Dorothy answered, ‘but can I ask why?’

  ‘Because I’m going to deduct the cost from Robbie’s allowance. Despite him denying it, Yvonne insists the baby is his and one way or another I’m going to see that he pays towards the child’s keep.’

  Dorothy raised her eyebrows. ‘I see your point and I agree with you, but Robbie’s not going to be too happy about it, especially as you’re still giving him only half his allowance.’

  ‘I don’t care. It’s about time he accepted his responsibilities towards the child,’ Adrian said. He wasn’t looking forward to telling Robbie and decided to wait until the next day. No doubt he’d get a torrent of abuse then and it wouldn’t be a good start to the weekend, but Adrian was determined to stick to his guns.

  ‘Yvonne’s gone to bed. I’m worried about her,’ Dottie said. ‘She was fine earlier, but now she’s got a terrible headache. I noticed that she’s all swollen and puffy too.’

  ‘Keep an eye on her. I’m sure she’ll be fine, but if she’s no better tomorrow, call the doctor. And what about Robbie, is he home?’ Adrian asked.

  ‘He’s in his room, no doubt sprucing himself up for the pub again tonight. He was really horrid to Yvonne earlier. I wish there was something we could do about his behaviour.’

  ‘Is it getting worse?’

  ‘No, he’s just the same, along with his bad language. Yvonne avoids him as much as she can, and I let his wicked remarks wash over me. It’s such a shame though. I remember the old Robbie – surely he’s in there somewhere.’

  Adrian saw the sadness in Dottie’s eyes and the old niggling doubt he always carried reared its ugly head. He tried to quash it and not give it credence, but he’d never been completely convinced that Dorothy didn’t still harbour feelings for Robbie.

  ‘Let’s be honest, he wasn’t the nicest of people before the accident, Dottie.’

  ‘You didn’t see him the way I did.’

  There it was again, Adrian thought sadly, Dottie defending Robbie. He wanted to ask her outright if she was still in love with his brother, but fear of the truth always stopped him. He couldn’t face losing her. If only he could make her really happy by giving her the child she so desperately craved. He gave her everything else, but a baby was the one thing money couldn’t buy.

  On Saturday morning, Robbie heard a knock on his door. He’d chosen to eat all his meals in his room so it was probably Dottie with his breakfast, but it was a bit flaming early. He liked giving her extra work to do, but he wasn’t going to put up with being disturbed before nine in the morning. He’d give her a piece of his mind and he’d enjoy doing it. In fact, he liked making her life as miserable as he could. As long as he was stuck in this chair, he had no intention of letting any of them off the hook and he would do whatever he could to make them feel uncomfortable in their own home.

  ‘It’s me, can I come in?’ he heard Adrian ask.

  ‘If you must,’ Robbie answered unenthusiastically.

  He braced himself for another confrontation as Adrian walked into the room.

  ‘You’ve probably noticed the array of baby items amassing in the house,’ Adrian said.

  ‘I could hardly miss that fucking great pram.’

  ‘From what I’ve seen all the baby clo
thes and equipment are proving to be expensive. It’ll be an ongoing expense too.’

  ‘And your point is?’ Robbie asked.

  ‘I think you should be paying towards the costs. I’ll deduct a weekly amount from your allowance and—’

  ‘You can’t do that!’ Robbie feverishly interrupted. ‘You can’t even prove that the bastard is mine.’

  ‘I expected this from you, Robbie, but I was hoping you would listen to reason.’

  ‘Reason? There isn’t any reason why I should be left short because of what that slut is carrying in her belly. For fuck’s sake, Adrian, I’m a grown man but you’re treating me like a naughty child having my pocket money deducted. You’re already stopping half my allowance and I can’t afford to lose any more. I won’t have it, do you hear me? I’ll never buy that … that thing anything. Not even a nappy pin!’

  ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, but it’s the right thing to do. If you choose to neglect your responsibilities, as usual, then you leave me with no other option than to take charge. I hate to say it, Robbie, but you know what you can do if you don’t like it.’

  Robbie’s anger was boiling and he cursed his legs for not working. He wanted to run at his brother and batter the living daylights out of him. ‘I HATE you. Don’t you think it’s bad enough that you ruined my life, and now this! GET OUT, go on, fuck off!’

  Adrian didn’t say another word and quietly left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Robbie sat staring at it, thumping the arm of his wheelchair in frustration.

  How dare Adrian inflict this on him! Apart from anything else, he was counting on the money to keep up with his payments to Brian, though his debt was rapidly increasing because of the ridiculous interest the shark kept lumping on. ‘Fuck … fuck … fuck,’ he cursed under his breath, knowing that Brian would soon have his heavies on him again, and this time he doubted he would avoid a beating – especially as he couldn’t run away.

  ‘That went well then?’ Dorothy said with a note of sarcasm in her voice as Adrian walked into the kitchen.

  ‘I take it you heard our little exchange?’ Adrian said.

  ‘Yes, most of it.’

  ‘We both knew he’d scream and shout about it, but, like it or not, he’s going to have his allowance cut. I hope he doesn’t take it out on you, but if he does he’ll have me to deal with. Anyway, where’s Yvonne? I said I would run her up to Walter’s shop this morning to collect the high chair and cot you ordered.’

  ‘I haven’t seen her. She must be still in bed or too worried to come down after hearing that. I was just about to take Dad some breakfast so I’ll give her a shout, though I think she really ought to spend the day in bed. She looked awful yesterday.’

  Dorothy found her father sitting up in his bed and she thought he looked a little agitated. ‘Morning, Dad. Here’s your breakfast, but after you’ve eaten it, why don’t you have a nice wash and come downstairs?’

  ‘Vonnie … Vonnie,’ he said, his name for Yvonne.

  ‘She’s still sleeping, Dad, but she’ll be in to see you soon.’

  ‘Vonnie … Vonnie … bad … Vonnie bad …’ he said, his arms flapping as he pushed her to one side to get out of bed.

  The tray went flying, and, frightened that her dad was going to have another fit, she tried to push him back onto his pillows while yelling, ‘Adrian! Adrian!’

  Shortly afterwards he came into the room, panting from running up the stairs.

  ‘Quick,’ Dorothy said urgently, ‘take over here while I fetch Yvonne. She always calms him.’

  ‘Yes, all right, but if he gets any worse we should call the doctor.’

  Dottie ran to Yvonne’s room and without knocking threw open the door. ‘Yvonne, sorry to get you up, but it’s my dad and …’ The words died on Dottie’s lips. Yvonne’s face was so bloated that she was barely recognisable, and sweat matted her hair. When she groaned, Dottie stood frozen for a moment before dashing from the room and back to her father’s.

  ‘It’s all right, he’s calmed down now,’ Adrian said.

  ‘It’s Yvonne,’ Dottie blurted, panic in her voice. ‘Something’s wrong with her. We need help.’

  ‘Has she gone into labour?’

  ‘No, well, I don’t think so, but she’s badly bloated. I’m going to call the doctor.’

  ‘I’ll do that. You’d best get back to her.’

  While Adrian went downstairs to make the phone call, Dottie ran back to Yvonne’s room to find her groaning and clutching her stomach.

  ‘The baby …’ she cried.

  ‘It’s all right, love, Adrian’s gone to call the doctor,’ said Dorothy soothingly, but her voice shook.

  ‘I … I think the baby’s coming. Oh … oh … it hurts.’

  ‘It’s normal to feel pain,’ Dottie said, fighting to stay calm. She remembered her miscarriage, but she’d never seen childbirth. Yvonne’s pain was obviously so much worse, but when she screamed in agony before passing out, Dottie knew something was wrong – badly wrong. She felt helpless, at a loss to know what to do, and lightly slapped Yvonne’s cheeks, trying to revive her, ‘Come on, Yvonne, wake up, love,’ she pleaded.

  Yvonne half opened her puffy eyes and groaned, ‘My head hurts so bad.’ Then there was another loud scream. ‘ARGH, no … make it stop.’

  Dorothy was floundering and felt completely ineffectual as Yvonne continued to cry out in pain. She wished Nelly was with her now, she’d know what to do. It looked like she was slipping in and out of consciousness and seemed to be getting weaker by the second.

  Adrian stuck his head around the door, and his face went grey at what he saw. ‘I rang the doctor but when I told him about the bloating he advised me to call an ambulance. What do you want me to do now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dorothy cried, ‘I haven’t got a clue what I’m supposed to do, let alone you.’

  Yvonne suddenly sat up and gasped, ‘I feel funny. I … I think the baby’s coming.’ She then leaned forward, making a long grunting noise from deep in the throat.

  ‘I think that’s what they call pushing,’ Dorothy said, and glancing over her shoulder she saw that Adrian looked about to faint. ‘Get out of here,’ she snapped.

  Dorothy wanted to run from the room too, but she knew she couldn’t as she silently panicked. ‘Hurry up,’ she whispered under her breath, praying for the ambulance to arrive.

  Yvonne grunted, pushing again; she knew there was no way to stop this baby coming before the ambulance.

  Adrian came back into the room with a bowl of water and fresh towels.

  ‘What do I do with these?’ Dorothy asked, looking at what he was carrying.

  ‘I have no idea but it’s what I hear the midwife always asks for,’ Adrian replied.

  His ignorance didn’t help to calm Dorothy’s fears, especially when Yvonne began to make a noise in her throat.

  ‘Adrian, what do we do? I don’t know what’s wrong, but I do know this isn’t normal,’ she asked fretfully.

  ‘Cool her down, mop her brow. If nothing else, it’ll make her more comfortable,’ Adrian said.

  Dorothy dipped one of the towels in the bowl of water, wrung it out and began gently dabbing Yvonne’s brow.

  Yvonne sank back on the pillows, exhausted, her voice weak and husky as she croaked, ‘Dottie, my head feels like it’s going to burst. Promise me … promise me you’ll look after Rosie.’

  Dorothy flashed Adrian a look. He was stood with his mouth agape. This wasn’t a man’s territory, so Dorothy knew she’d have to deal with this alone.

  ‘Don’t talk daft, Yvonne. You’ll be looking after Rosie yourself,’ Dorothy said in Yvonne’s ear.

  ‘Please … Dottie … promise me … you have to …’ Yvonne begged.

  Yvonne must think she was going to die, Dorothy thought, and the enormity of the situation overwhelmed her. ‘Yes, of course I will, but it won’t come to that. The ambulance will be here shortly.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Yvonne said, but then
she sat forward and with an enormous howl she pushed hard until she cried out, ‘My head … it feels like it’s exploding, but I think Rosie is coming out.’

  Dottie pushed up Yvonne’s nightie, in awe of what she saw. ‘Yes, I can see the baby’s head,’ she said eagerly as she heard the siren of the ambulance as it pulled up outside. ‘Come on, love, keep going … she’s nearly here.’

  She turned to look at Adrian who was making a hasty retreat from the room, muttering something about going to check on Bill.

  She was amazed when Yvonne managed to find strength from somewhere and with another push the baby was delivered.

  ‘You did it, Yvonne! Look, it’s Rosie!’ Dorothy said through tears as she picked up the baby and held her up for Yvonne to see.

  There was no response, no expected cry of joy. Instead Yvonne had slumped back, her head turned to one side and her mouth open. Dorothy felt a shiver of fear as she noticed her eyes were strangely fixed too and she wasn’t blinking. ‘Yvonne … Yvonne, love.’

  A midwife suddenly appeared in the bedroom alongside two ambulancemen. The midwife cut the baby’s cord, but Dottie hardly noticed, unable to tear her eyes away from the vacant expression on Yvonne’s face. Rosie was wailing, but Dottie was barely aware of the baby being taken from her arms. Then she was ushered away from the bed to the back of the room, and, feeling as if she was looking at the scene from a distance, she took in the blood-drenched sheets and saw that Yvonne still hadn’t moved. She watched as if in slow motion as the midwife gave the baby to one of the ambulancemen to hold while she leaned over the bed to check on Yvonne. She then looked at the man and shook her head. What did that mean? Why was the midwife shaking her head?

  The ambulanceman who held Rosie in his arms turned to look at Dorothy and said, ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Sorry? What was he sorry for? What was going on?

  She became aware that Adrian was by her side, lightly pushing her towards the door. ‘She’s gone, darling. Come on, there’s nothing you can do.’