by Kitty Neale
‘I don’t understand … she … she just had Rosie,’ Dorothy muttered and as though coming out of a fog and realising what had been said, her voice strengthened. ‘No, Yvonne isn’t dead. She can’t be. She must have passed out again.’
Dorothy pulled away from Adrian and flew over to the bed. Shaking Yvonne, she cried, ‘Wake up! Yvonne … please … come on … love … WAKE UP,’ but when she saw the unchanged vacant look on Yvonne’s face and her fixated eyes, it finally sank in. Her legs gave way and she crumpled to a heap on the floor next to the bed. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I let you die. I didn’t know what to do …’
‘It wasn’t your fault, Mrs Ferguson,’ the midwife said. ‘There was nothing anyone could have done. It appears she died of toxaemia. It can come on very quickly and looked quite advanced. You did very well to deliver the baby.’
The baby, Dorothy thought, climbing to her feet. She walked over to the ambulanceman who was holding Rosie and said, ‘I’ll take her.’
When Rosie was placed gently into her arms, Dottie turned to look lovingly at her deceased friend. ‘I made you a promise, Yvonne, and I intend to keep it. I’ll look after Rosie and make sure she knows all about you and what a wonderful mother she had.’
She turned with Rosie in her arms and, crying hard, she looked at Adrian, who had tears streaming down his face too. ‘We will love this child as our own, give her the world and always keep Yvonne’s memory alive.’
Adrian nodded and Dorothy could tell he was unable to speak. ‘We should get Rosie out of here. I don’t want the image of her mother’s lifeless body to be imprinted on her brain for ever,’ Dorothy whispered protectively.
Adrian put his arm around her, and together they left the bedroom. ‘Hey, my pretty little girl, let’s go and meet your grandpa,’ Dorothy cooed through her snivels.
Adrian held his hand out to Rosie, and Dorothy watched astonished as she gripped hard on his pinkie finger. Robbie may be Rosie’s biological father, she thought, but Adrian is going to be her daddy.
Robbie was abruptly woken by the sound of heavy footsteps going up and down the stairs above his bedroom. He’d been hoping for a morning lie-in, but checking the clock on his bedside he saw it was only nine-thirty. The night before, he’d drunk enough ale to sink a battleship, and now he was paying for it.
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to focus as he sat himself up. The room was spinning and his mouth felt dry and furry. Then he heard a distinct noise which he recognised as a crying baby. I don’t believe it, he thought, the fucking tart has only gone and dropped the sprog a few weeks early.
He didn’t feel the delivery of his so-called child warranted getting out of bed early, but the need for a cup of tea to rehydrate his hungover body forced him to make the effort. As he pulled on his robe, the baby’s persistent screaming grated on his nerves, and he wanted to shout to Yvonne to shut the thing up.
Thankfully, he found some warm tea already brewed in the teapot, and poured himself a welcome cup before venturing into the lounge.
Dorothy was standing with her back towards him, swaying from side to side as she rocked the baby in her arms. He was grateful that the nipper had finally quietened down.
‘So, the bastard is born,’ Robbie said.
Dorothy spun around and he immediately noticed she’d been crying. Then, through the lounge door, he saw two ambulancemen carrying a stretcher down the stairs. There looked to be a person on the stretcher but the face was covered over – like they do to dead people, he thought – and he quickly looked away, believing it was unlucky to see the deceased.
‘Don’t start, Robbie,’ Dorothy said. ‘I’m in no mood for your antics today’.
He thought she sounded exhausted, and he saw the sadness in her eyes, but still hadn’t worked out if Bill or Yvonne had been on the stretcher. Either way, he thought Dorothy must be pretty cut up, and for a moment he felt sorry for her.
‘So who are they carting off in that ambulance?’ he asked as, looking through the net curtains, he saw it drive away.
‘Yvonne,’ Dorothy answered. She kept her back to him as she said, ‘She died in childbirth.’
Robbie could hear Dorothy was crying, and though he felt nothing over the loss of Yvonne, his heart did go out to his sister-in-law, and for a change he decided to keep his ugly comments to himself.
Adrian walked into the room looking just as glum as his wife. ‘I assume Dorothy has informed you of Yvonne’s death?’
‘Yes, she has, but if you think I’m taking on that kid, you’ve got another think coming. Send it to her mother or take it down the orphanage, whatever you want to do, but I’m having nothing to do with it.’
Much to Robbie’s surprise, Adrian said, ‘Good.’
‘What do you mean, “good”?’ Robbie asked. He’d been expecting yet another onslaught from his brother about the virtues of responsibility.
‘I’ll see my solicitor and get the relevant paperwork drawn up. Dottie and I will adopt Rosie. We’ll bring her up as our own.’
His brother’s voice was steely, and, glad to be let of the hook, Robbie had no intention of arguing.
‘Yes, well, that suits me fine,’ he said, and then spun the chair around. He could hear the baby crying again and with his head thumping he wheeled himself back into his room.
He’d had a drink with Brian and managed to get a two-week extension on his debt, but a fortnight wasn’t long to come up with eighty-odd quid, especially as Adrian was docking his money to pay for baby things. Then a thought occurred to him. If Adrian and Dorothy were planning on adopting the child, then surely it would be their responsibility and he would get his full allowance back.
He smiled, thinking that, thanks to Yvonne popping her clogs, his pocket was going to be a bit fuller.
Chapter 52
Nelly had decided that she could no longer hide her condition from Dorothy. Malcolm was itching to tell his mother, and she wanted to tell her parents and sisters too. Last week they’d been invited to Dottie’s for Sunday dinner, and now that the day was here it was as good a time as any to break the news.
‘Stop worrying,’ Malcolm said as they knocked on Dottie’s door. Adrian opened it.
‘Hello, Adrian,’ Nelly said, nerves making her voice higher than usual.
‘Shush,’ he said gently, smiling. ‘She’s only just gone to sleep.’
‘Who you talking about?’ Nelly asked in a puzzled whisper.
‘Rosie,’ Adrian answered. ‘Go through to the lounge and Dorothy will explain everything.’
Nelly walked in and her eyes popped when she saw her best friend sitting on the sofa with a sleeping baby in her arms. ‘Oh, Dottie, how wonderful! Yvonne’s had the baby.’
‘She was born yesterday, and, as Yvonne wanted, her name is Rosie.’
‘I was right about it being a girl then. How’s Yvonne doing? I expect she’s still in bed. I’ll pop up to see her if that’s OK?’
‘I’m afraid you can’t,’ Dottie said, and then burst into tears.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Nelly asked, but then an awful feeling swamped her. ‘She … she’s not dead, is she?’
‘Yes,’ Dottie said, still crying as she went on to tell them what had happened.
Nelly flopped down on the sofa next to her friend and instinctively rubbed her stomach protectively. ‘Oh, poor Yvonne.’
‘I know, it’s heartbreaking, but we’ve decided to adopt Rosie.’
‘What about him in there?’ Nelly asked, nodding her head towards Robbie’s room. She held the man in such contempt that she could hardly bring herself to mention his name.
‘He’s agreed to it, and for a refreshing change he’s being civil,’ Dorothy answered. ‘By the way, dinner might be a bit later than expected. I’ve had my hands full with this one and haven’t even peeled the spuds yet.’
‘I’ll see to dinner. You look worn out and in need of a rest, and before you start, no arguments,’ Nelly said as she rolled
up her sleeves and made her way through to the kitchen. ‘But I’m not cooking a morsel for him,’ she muttered under her breath, referring to Robbie.
As she stood at the sink peeling the potatoes, Nelly’s thoughts were on Yvonne and a deep sadness washed over her. The girl had been so young and hadn’t had much of a life. What a waste, she thought, and silently cursed God for taking such a sweet girl who didn’t have a bad bone in her body.
‘Are you all right, love?’ Malcolm asked as he came into the kitchen.
‘I’m sad and upset, but I’ll be all right. One life has passed, but another has come into the world and I hope Rosie’s life will be better than her mother’s. With Dottie and Adrian as parents there’d be little doubt of that, but I just hope that Robbie stays out of the child’s life.’
‘Are you still going to tell Dottie that you’re pregnant?’
‘With what has just happened, I don’t think it’s the right time.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ Malcolm said. ‘Adrian wants me to take a look at his car. He had a problem starting it but thinks it could just be that the battery is flat. If you need me, I’ll be outside.’
‘Yeah, all right,’ Nelly said, going on to finish peeling the potatoes. Her thoughts went back to Yvonne, but a few minutes later Robbie wheeled himself into the kitchen. She glared at him and clenched the knife in her hand, thinking how she would love to sink it into his flesh. If it hadn’t been for him, Malcolm would sleep soundly at night. Instead, she heard him torturing himself in his sleep night after night, blaming himself for Robbie’s accident.
‘Nelly the News,’ he drawled. ‘Well, you’ve heard the latest now so no doubt all of Battersea will know about Yvonne by tomorrow.’
Adrian came in before Nelly had a chance to retaliate and said, ‘I’ll thank you not to talk to my guests like that.’
‘Fine. Actually, Adrian, it’s you I want to talk to. In private.’
‘I hope this won’t take long. Malcolm is outside taking a look at my car and I want to join him.’
‘I only want a quick word with you,’ Robbie said, wheeling himself away.
Adrian followed Robbie into his room and Nelly was glad when the door closed. She liked spending time with Dottie in her lovely home, but if Robbie was in, seeing him was always unpleasant. She tried to rise above it and let his ugly comments wash over her, but it wasn’t always easy. She wondered how Dottie put up with it and thanked her lucky stars she didn’t have to see him very often.
Adrian stood in Robbie’s room, worn out after being up half the night, with Dottie either crying or having to get up to attend to the baby. ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’ he asked.
‘I’ve been thinking about you and Dottie taking on the baby. What’s its name, by the way?’ Robbie asked.
‘Her name is Rosie,’ Adrian replied, his suspicions aroused. He knew his brother of old and guessed he was after something. He waited to hear what was coming next.
‘Rosie, that’s nice, but the thing is, Adrian, Rosie is my baby, not yours,’ Robbie said with a smug smile on his face.
‘So, you’ve finally owned up to it, but why now? You’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t want her.’
‘I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m her father, and as such what happens to Rosie and where she goes is ultimately my decision.’
‘I can guess what you’re after, Robbie, but let me make this clear. Rosie is not a commodity to be bought, sold or made profit on. She’s a dear, sweet baby who deserves love, security and decent parents, so forget any stupid ideas you might have about me paying you to adopt her.’
‘I think you may want to rethink your position, Adrian. After all, it’s me who has the upper hand on this one. I mean, I’m her father and it’s my responsibility to ensure she goes to people who really want her. You’ve been banging on at me about responsibility for years now, so I’m stepping up and doing what you’ve told me to. If you want her that much, you’ll have to prove it to me by putting your money where your mouth is.’
Adrian shook his head at his brother’s audacity and ran a hand tiredly across his face. ‘So now you’re resorting to blackmail. It was bad enough that you used Yvonne to make you money, but now you’re trying to use an innocent child too. You sicken me, but I don’t think you’ve thought this through. You see, Robbie, you previously tried to duck your responsibilities by insisting there was no proof that you’re the baby’s father. Now, equally, there’s no proof that you are.’
‘I can still make things difficult for you – make a claim, hold things up.’
‘Be careful, Robbie, because I’m almost at the end of my tether with you. Once again you haven’t thought things through. You see, if you carry out your threats I will simply cut off your allowance and throw you out of my house.’
‘You … you …’ Robbie ground out.
Adrian could see Robbie was fuming and thought steam might come out of his ears. It felt good to hold the upper hand and he secretly smiled to himself. ‘Have you got anything else to say?’ he calmly asked and when there was no reply he added, ‘No, I thought not.’
With that, Adrian walked out of the room. He passed the kitchen to see Nelly was busy preparing dinner and without stopping he went on to the living room to find that Rosie was sound asleep in her pram and his wife had taken a well-deserved nap on the sofa.
He’d go to give Malcolm a hand now, but first he looked at the baby’s little rosebud lips. She really was a cutie, he thought, her features reminding him of his sister Myra’s first child. He just hoped that Rosie hadn’t inherited any of Robbie’s personality and that she had a sweet nature like her mother.
Chapter 53
Mrs Hart had been kind enough to look after Rosie and keep an eye on Dorothy’s father on the morning of Yvonne’s funeral. When they returned, close to midday, Dottie, puffy-eyed from crying, thanked the woman and saw her out.
‘I’ve got a lot of work on, so if you’re sure you can cope, I’m going to the office,’ Adrian said.
‘Nelly’s here and I’ll be fine,’ Dottie told him.
‘I know you’ve given me the day off, but are you sure you don’t need me to come into the office too?’ Nelly asked.
‘No, I can manage without you.’
Dorothy kissed him on the cheek before he left, appreciating his thoughtfulness. She hadn’t wanted to be alone for the rest of the day and it was good to have Nelly there. When her friend volunteered to make a fresh pot of tea, Dorothy sat on the sofa, holding Rosie close to her chest. ‘We said goodbye to your mummy today,’ she said softly. ‘But don’t worry, my little one, I’ll try my best to look after you in her place.’
Nelly came through with two cups of tea. ‘It was sad to see so few people at the funeral,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I can’t believe Yvonne’s mother and sister weren’t there.’
‘I know,’ Dorothy responded, ‘but with no idea where they are, we couldn’t inform them about her death. I don’t have much time for that Cynthia but at least she made the effort and turned up with some flowers.’
‘It’s such a bloody shame. Poor Yvonne didn’t have much of a life.’
‘I don’t even have a picture of her to show Rosie when she gets older,’ Dorothy said sadly.
Robbie appeared in the doorway and Dorothy felt her body tense. She had noticed that since Rosie had been born he appeared to have mellowed and she wondered if it was a sign that the old Robbie was emerging, the man she had fallen in love with. However, as he began to speak, his quiet demeanour didn’t stop her being on her guard, and she braced herself, waiting for a spiteful comment.
‘You can take that look off your face,’ he said. ‘I won’t bite.’
Dorothy relaxed a little before she said, ‘I thought you’d have come to the funeral.’
‘Well, you thought wrong, and now I’m off out.’
As the front door closed behind him, Nelly said, ‘I don’t know how you do it. You deserve
a medal for putting up with him under your roof.’
‘It’s not like I have a choice – he’s Adrian’s brother.’
‘Well, if it was me, I don’t think I’d be quite so charitable, family or not. Now come on, let me cuddle that little ’un, and you drink your tea.’
Dorothy smiled and reluctantly handed over the baby. She loved the feeling of having Rosie snuggled into her and would happily have held her all day long. Not only had Rosie fulfilled her yearning to be a mother, she also felt she had a little bit of the ‘good’ Robbie close to her.
‘She really is beautiful,’ Nelly said. ‘You all right, sugar? You look a bit peaky.’
Dorothy stood up, but feeling dizzy, she immediately sat back down again. ‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks, Nel, just a little light-headed. I didn’t have any breakfast.’
‘Right then, take this gorgeous little bundle back, and I’ll fix us a bite to eat.’
Dorothy was happy to accept Nelly’s offer. She’d been feeling extremely tired lately, but it was little wonder considering she was up three times a night tending to Rosie. Adrian must be feeling it too, she thought, but he never complained. She looked down into Rosie’s blue eyes. ‘But you’re worth it,’ she whispered, and brushed her lips over the baby’s soft forehead. She couldn’t understand how Robbie could ignore Rosie, his own flesh and blood, but he’d made no attempt to hold her. It seemed so wrong that Rosie had a father who rejected her, but for a silly moment she imagined what it would have been like if she hadn’t miscarried. Would Robbie have been the same, or would he have come back wanting to hold their child in his arms?
After his brother had called his bluff, Robbie had been forced to think of another way to acquire some quick cash. Eventually, what Adrian had said about Rosie not being a commodity had given him an idea. The baby would be worth money to someone who wanted one desperately enough – he just had to find that person.
‘Do me a favour, mate,’ Robbie said to a middle-aged man who was coming down the front stairs from the building where Cynthia lived. ‘I can’t manage the stairs, so I’d be much obliged if you would knock on someone’s door for me and tell them that Robbie’s outside.’
