Beth was so shocked she almost cried out and alerted her mother that she was watching her. It wasn’t an overall fatness for Alice’s face had grown much thinner since she was widowed. Beth knew exactly what swollen bellies meant, even if properly brought up young ladies weren’t supposed to be aware of such things.
That was yet another matter Miss Clarkson had explained to Beth. She said it was absurd to keep young girls in the dark about something so natural, and ignorance was dangerous too as men could take advantage of it. So Beth knew how babies were made.
While she had found it embarrassing to discover that her parents had continued to perform that act after she was born, Beth’s real concern now was how she was going to broach such a delicate subject with her mother. But she knew she must, for if there was a baby on the way plans would need to be made.
A little later, once her mother was back indoors, folding up the dry washing, Beth studied her, hoping she was mistaken, for with the apron in its right place Alice’s belly wasn’t obvious; she just looked a bit thicker around the waist.
Beth had a cup of tea while she tried to pluck up some courage, for she anticipated hostility. But time was getting on, and once Sam got back her chance would be gone, for Beth knew she couldn’t discuss pregnancy with a male present, not even her own brother.
She took a deep breath and plunged right in. ‘You are going to have a baby, aren’t you, Mama?’
Beth wasn’t sure how she felt about having a baby brother or sister. But her mother’s reaction to her question made it quite plain she considered it a catastrophe. Her face crumpled, she put her hands over her belly as if to hide it and let out a wail of anguish.
Beth had half expected to be told to mind her own business, but she certainly hadn’t anticipated such a dramatic reaction. ‘I know it must seem awful now Papa’s gone, but Sam and I will help you,’ she said quickly, going over to her mother. She didn’t try to embrace her, for during the last three months when she’d attempted it, her mother had backed away as if she’d been scalded.
But surprisingly she flung herself at Beth, crying like a child against her shoulder. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you,’ she sobbed. ‘I’ve been so afraid of what was going to become of us.’
Beth just held her, so relieved that at last her mother was communicating with her that any other concerns seemed unimportant. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ she said soothingly. ‘We’ve managed all right so far, and we can manage a baby too. Maybe it’s just what we need to make us all happy again. Do you know when it will be born?’
‘December, I think,’ Alice said, dabbing her eyes with her apron. ‘But I’m too old to be having another baby. It’s bad enough having the shame of your father going the way he did — now people will start talking about us all over again.’
‘You aren’t too old,’ Beth said firmly. ‘And what does it matter what other people say? It’s none of their business.’
She made another pot of tea, and her mother blew her nose and admitted it was a relief to have it out in the open. ‘I’ve behaved very badly to you two,’ she admitted. ‘But I was that worried and frightened I couldn’t think of anything else. What’s Sam going to think?’
‘Just the same as me, that we’re going to have a baby brother or sister,’ Beth said calmly. She felt relieved that her mother’s odd behaviour had finally been explained. ‘I know everything looks a bit daunting now, Mama, but it will get better. And you’d better make friends with Mrs Craven again because you’ll need her help when the baby comes.’
Mrs Craven, among her many talents, had something of a reputation of being an excellent midwife.
‘That’s why I told her to go away, I was that scared she’d guess,’ Alice admitted. ‘It was too much for me after Frank going the way he did.’
Later that evening after their mother had gone to bed, Beth and Sam sat in the kitchen talking. Sam had looked horrified when Beth took him to one side earlier and, with a great deal of embarrassment, told him the news. He whispered that this was the last thing they all needed, but he did have the diplomacy not to show his feelings to their mother.
Now they were alone and he’d had time to think about it, he had softened a little. ‘I can’t say I relish the thought of a squalling brat around the place,’ he admitted. ‘But at least it explains what was wrong with Mama. I thought she might end up in an asylum.’
‘It must have been very frightening for her,’ Beth said. ‘Especially as her own mother must have had her without a husband, or she wouldn’t have abandoned her. That place she grew up in was attached to a workhouse. I expect she was afraid that was where she’d end up.’
‘I’d never let that happen,’ Sam said stoutly. ‘But it will tie us.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’ Beth asked.
He pursed his lips and frowned. ‘Pa didn’t leave much, and most of that was eaten up with the burial expenses and just living until I got work. Our joint wages are only just enough to scrape by on. But I’d hoped that in time Mama would marry again and we’d both be free.’
Beth had never imagined her mother remarrying, and she said so.
‘Well, you’d better start hoping for it,’ he said with a tinge of sarcasm. ‘If you meet some chap who wants to marry you, he won’t want to be saddled with your mother and her baby too. And I hadn’t planned on staying put here for ever either. I want to see the world.’
Beth wanted to reproach him for being selfish, but she couldn’t because she knew he wouldn’t really run out on them. ‘Let’s not worry about the future for the time being,’ she suggested. ‘Something will turn up, you’ll see.’
It was a long, hot summer, the milk turning sour by mid-morning, privies and drains stinking to high heaven, leaves on trees drooping listlessly with a coating of dust. The city didn’t even become quiet once darkness fell because it was too hot for anyone to sleep. Babies cried, dogs barked, children played in the streets till all hours, and there were more drunken brawls outside the public houses than usual.
Beth found each day in Hooley’s Hosiery a trial of endurance. By midday the shop windows got the full blast from the sun, and inside the temperature soared to over ninety degrees. Customers were tetchy and often very rude as they got her to open drawer after drawer of socks or stockings. Beth frequently had to bite her tongue to prevent herself answering back. In a high-necked black dress, with petticoats beneath, she was sweltering, her feet swelled and ached, and she often wondered why she’d once thought it would be marvellous to have a job.
Sam fared better at his work, for the clerks’ office overlooked the sea, and with the windows wide open there was a cooling breeze. But with a stiff wing collar and a jacket, he too often admitted to nodding off in the heat or gazing longingly at the ships out at sea, wishing he was on one.
But their mother was suffering even more. She had no appetite, she felt faint in the heat, and her ankles and legs were so swollen by mid-afternoon that she couldn’t walk. It alarmed Beth to see how thin and gaunt her face was becoming, yet her belly seemed to grow larger each day.
The hot weather finally broke at the end of September, when it rained almost constantly for two weeks. At long last they could sleep at nights again, the streets were washed clean, and their mother began to eat a little more.
Alice had apologized to Mrs Craven for her rudeness, and the neighbour was kind enough to pop in every day and help with a few of the heavier chores. Together the two women had dug out a stored box of baby clothes that had been both Sam’s and Beth’s, and another neighbour lent them a cradle.
Winter didn’t set in until the end of November, but when it came it was with high winds and bitter cold. In the second week of December, when it was snowing, Beth arrived home on the Friday evening to find Mrs Craven in the kitchen, filling up a big pan with water to heat up on the stove.
‘She started around midday,’ the woman explained. ‘It was lucky I called in on the way back from the market. I want you to go and ge
t Dr Gillespie to come and take a look at her.’
Beth was immediately alarmed, but Mrs Craven gave her a reassuring hug. ‘It’s just a precaution,’ she insisted.
It was the first time Beth had seen the doctor since the night her father hanged himself, and she felt acutely embarrassed about having to tell him why she needed him now.
‘Having a baby!’ he exclaimed, his round red face breaking into a wide smile. ‘What a surprise! And how are you and your brother doing? It must have been hard on you these past months.’
‘We’re managing fine, doctor,’ Beth said. His smile of pleasure made her feel a little less anxious, and his interest in her and Sam was comforting. ‘Of course, the baby was a bit of a shock to all of us. But Mrs Craven said she wanted you to call round just as a precaution.’
But it wasn’t just a precaution, Beth realized later, as she stood at the bedroom door listening to what the doctor was saying to Mrs Craven. ‘She’s a very small woman and the baby is big. Mrs Bolton isn’t young either, nor is she very strong. I’ll leave her in your capable hands for now, Mrs Craven, but don’t hesitate to call me again later if you have any concerns.’
Beth’s heart began to hammer with fright, and as the evening progressed and she heard Mama shrieking with pain, she grew terrified. It didn’t help that Sam hadn’t come home. There was just Mrs Craven, and she wouldn’t allow Beth into the bedroom. ‘I’ll call you if I need help or to get the doctor again,’ she said firmly. ‘Babies can sometimes take an age to come, but don’t worry yourself about the screaming — most women do that, it don’t mean much.’
Sam arrived back soon after ten, just in time for Mrs Craven to send him out again for the doctor, and though she wouldn’t be drawn on why she needed him, Beth could see anxiety etched into her big face.
Dr Gillespie came back with Sam, and once again disappeared into the bedroom for some time.
Around twelve Gillespie came back into the kitchen and asked for a bowl of hot water to wash his hands. He had already taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, and as he scrubbed at his hands and forearms he glanced over his shoulder at Sam and Beth.
‘I’ve got to get the baby out quickly,’ he said. ‘Please get me more clean linen and towels. I can see you are both frightened, but try not to worry — your mother will be all right.’
Beth rushed to get the linen, and the doctor took it back into the bedroom with him, closing the door behind him. Mama’s moaning stopped soon afterwards and Sam said the doctor must have given her ether.
It was very quiet now. Outside snow was still falling, deadening the sound of late-night carriages in the street. The only sound inside was the occasional cough or muffled instruction from the doctor to Mrs Craven, and the coal spluttering and shifting in the stove.
Sam and Beth didn’t speak. They just sat on either side of the kitchen table, white-faced and anxious, both lost in their own fears.
Suddenly there was noise — rustling, feet moving and the doctor’s low voice. ‘My, she’s a big girl,’ they heard Mrs Craven exclaim, and just moments later they heard the baby cry.
‘Thank God for that,’ Sam exclaimed, wiping his sweaty brow on his sleeve.
Shortly afterwards Mrs Craven came out of the bedroom with the baby wrapped in a blanket in her arms. She looked exhausted, but she was smiling. ‘This is your baby sister. A real little porker,’ she said with some pride.
For Beth, the sight of Mrs Craven’s blood-drenched apron diluted any joy and wonder she might have felt at seeing her little sister. ‘Mama — is she well?’ she asked.
‘She will be soon, the doctor’s stitching her up now,’ Mrs Craven replied. ‘But you can do your bit by taking care of this little one,’ she said, handing the bundle over to Beth. ‘Put her in the cradle close to the stove to keep her warm. I’ve got to go back and help the doctor.’
While Sam got the cradle from where it had been left in the parlour, Beth stood looking down at the baby in her arms. She’d never seen a newborn baby before, and although Mrs Craven had said this one was big, to her it looked tiny, red and wrinkled. Its hair was dark, and although she couldn’t see its eyes for they were all screwed up, she liked its little mouth which it kept opening and shutting like a fish.
Sam brought in the cradle. ‘I think we’d better warm up the mattress and the covers first,’ Beth suggested, for there hadn’t been a fire on in the parlour since the weather got really cold. ‘What do you think of her?’
Sam looked down at the baby and tentatively stroked its cheek with one finger. ‘She’s a bit ugly,’ he said, wrinkling his nose with distaste.
‘No she’s not,’ Beth said defensively. ‘She’s sweet, and it’s just the same as looking at a newborn puppy or kitten. They all look like little rats at first, but they soon get really pretty, and so will she.’
What with all the preparation of the baby’s cradle and making yet more tea for Mrs Craven and the doctor, they temporarily forgot about their mother. It was only when their neighbour came back into the kitchen with a big bundle of bloodsoaked linen and asked Sam to get the tin bath from the yard to put it to soak that they were sharply reminded.
‘She’ll be poorly for some time,’ Mrs Craven said gravely. ‘We’ll have to build her strength up again with some good beef tea, eggs and milk. When the doctor has finished with her, you can go in for a minute or two to see her. Don’t expect much from her though, she’s had a tough time.’
It seemed like hours before Dr Gillespie finally came out of the bedroom, though in fact it wasn’t more than half an hour. He looked weary as he stripped off a bloodstained apron and went over to the sink to wash his hands. ‘Have you any brandy in the house?’ he asked.
‘I think so, sir,’ Sam said, going into the larder to get it.
‘Good lad, give your mother some in hot milk.’ He walked over to the cradle and looked down at the sleeping baby. ‘She at least seems in very good health and Mrs Craven will explain what she needs. I’ll come back in the morning to check on your mother.’
He took a small dark brown bottle from his bag and put it down on the table. ‘If your mother is in pain during the night she can have three or four drops of this in hot water. Try and get her to drink some water too.’
‘Go on! You can go and see her now,’ Mrs Craven urged them once the doctor had gone. ‘Then I must be away to my bed too.’
Sam and Beth crept into their mother’s room on tiptoe, not knowing quite what to expect. Everything looked surprisingly orderly and normal considering what had gone on here, though it was very hot with the fire lit and there was a funny smell. But Alice seemed to have shrunk; she took up no more room in the big brass bed than a child, and her face had a strange mottled appearance in the gaslight.
‘How are you feeling, Mama?’ Sam asked.
‘I hurt,’ she croaked out. ‘The baby?’
‘She’s fine, all wrapped up and in her cradle sleeping,’ Beth said softly. ‘You’ve got to drink this,’ she added, going closer so she could lift her mother enough for her to drink the milk and brandy. ‘I’ll sleep in the kitchen with her tonight so she’ll stay warm and I can keep an eye on her. It’s snowing outside.’
When her mother had finished the drink and Beth laid her down again, she caught hold of her daughter’s forearm. ‘Please don’t hate me for this,’ she said pleadingly.
‘Hate you for what?’ Beth frowned, looking at Sam in puzzlement.
‘For leaving you with such a burden,’ she said as she closed her eyes.
Beth tucked the covers around her mother and turned the gas down till it was just a faint glow. Sam put a few more coals on the fire and they crept quietly out of the room.
‘Does she think she’s going to die?’ Beth asked Sam once Mrs Craven had gone home.
‘That will just be the effect of the medicine the doctor gave her,’ he replied knowledgeably. ‘Don’t pay it any mind.’
‘I won’t be able to go to the shop tomorrow if I’v
e got to look after the baby,’ Beth said. ‘Mr Hooley won’t be pleased when it’s so close to Christmas. What if he won’t hold my position until Mama is better again?’
‘Don’t worry your head about that,’ Sam said wearily. ‘You write a note for him and I’ll put it through the door on my way to work. Now, I’d better put more coal in the stove to keep our little sister warm. I wonder what Mama will want to call her.’
‘I think she looks like a Molly,’ Beth said, peeping into the cradle again. ‘I just hope she doesn’t wake up until Mrs Craven comes in. I don’t know a thing about babies.’
Beth slept fitfully in the old armchair by the stove, with her feet up on a stool and some blankets over her. She kept waking at the slightest noise, but each time it was nothing more than crackling from the stove, or a little murmur from the baby. But whenever she tried to go back to sleep, her mind kept mulling over that plea from her mother.
At six in the morning Beth was cuddling the baby and trying to get her to stop crying, when to her relief Mrs Craven came in through the back door, stamping her feet to get rid of the snow on her boots.
‘Baby needs changing and feeding,’ she said bossily, and throwing off her coat, she took the baby from Beth and proceeded to remove the soggy blanket, ordering Beth to go and get the box of baby clothes and napkins.
Beth watched in fascination as the older woman carefully washed the tiny baby and gave her instructions about changing the piece of lint around the stump of its umbilical cord and sprinkling a special powder on the cord until it fell off. She then folded a napkin into a triangle and fastened it around the baby’s bottom.
‘Later, when the shops are open, you must go and see if you can buy a pair of india-rubber waterproof pants for her,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘They didn’t have them when my babies were born, but I believe they are a godsend as they keep their clothes and bedding dry. You must change the napkin every two or three hours. If you leave her wet she’ll get sore.’
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