The Winter Baby

by Sheila Newberry

  Kathleen climbed the stairs slowly, pausing now and then, aware of a dragging pain in her lower back. Should I mention it to Jessie? she wondered. She heard the boys in the kitchen and decided to wait until Jessie joined her upstairs. Though this might not be for some time, she realised, because there were still things to prepare for Christmas Day.

  She undressed slowly: a big effort tonight. It wasn’t late, probably not much past nine o’clock. As she folded her petticoat, she noticed a damp patch on the back, but more ominous was a spreading scarlet stain on her underwear. She felt clammy and afraid. She needed to go out onto the landing and call down to Jessie, but she wasn’t sure she could make it; her legs were so wobbly. She heard with relief the sound of someone coming up the stairs.

  She called out weakly, ‘Jessie – hurry! I need you.’

  The door burst open and there stood Sam. Kathleen was past caring now. ‘Sam, the baby – get Jessie.’

  ‘Hold tight!’ He didn’t know what else to say. ‘Mother!’ he yelled. ‘Kathleen needs you – quick!’

  Jessie had followed him up. ‘I’m here, my dear. Sam, will you go for the midwife? Take the buggy, and make sure there’s oil in the lamp. Mrs Buss is aware that she might be needed.’ Sam turned to leave. ‘Oh, and tell Danny I could do with his help – he’s not squeamish, having been with the mare when her foal was born.’

  ‘I’m not a horse!’ a weak voice reminded them from the bed.

  Danny pounded up the stairs two at a time as Sam closed the front door behind him. He knocked lightly on the door but opened it at the same time. ‘What can I do?’

  ‘Open the press by my bed and find two big towels for a start – I thought ahead and filled it with the necessary linen. Then we must wrap her lower half in one towel, and cover my bed with the other, as we must move her there before stripping her bed and protecting the mattress . . .’

  With Kathleen swathed in the towel, Danny lifted her up and carried her across the room to the big bed, where he deposited her gently. She freed her hands and reached up to hold his. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

  Danny turned to his mother. ‘She won’t let me go,’ he mouthed. Sweat glistened on Kathleen’s forehead and she groaned as the pains increased.

  ‘Stay with her,’ Jessie advised. ‘I’ll tackle her bed.’ She covered the mattress with layers of brown paper, then an old sheet. ‘Bring her back and I’ll make her as comfortable as I can. She’ll need the other towel to lie on again.’

  As Danny obeyed his mother’s instructions, the groaning became louder.

  ‘Fetch up a canister of hot water, Danny, then fill the kettle and set it to boil again,’ Jessie said. She poured cold water into a small basin on the washstand, in which she soaked a flannel, wringing it out and placing it on Kathleen’s forehead. She had something to say before Danny returned.

  ‘Kathleen, dear, may I take your ring off the chain and put it on your finger? Nurse Buss is likely thinking you are a young married lady, you see. For tonight you will be Mrs . . . what is your surname?’

  ‘Clancy,’ the girl murmured. She didn’t demur when Jessie slid the ring onto her finger.

  ‘I assume this is your mother’s wedding ring? You will be reminded of her, I’m sure. She must have had small hands like yours, Kathleen.’

  Kathleen was quiet now, her breathing coming in short gasps.

  As Danny came back into the room with the hot water, he said, ‘I can hear voices outside. I’ll tell Nurse Buss to come straight up, shall I? Then Sam and I will keep out of the way.’

  ‘The cocoa is cold.’ Kathleen tried to struggle up.

  Jessie nodded to Danny. ‘Take the cup away, Danny.’

  As he did so, he whispered to Kathleen, ‘Good luck.’

  ‘Stay – hold my hand,’ she pleaded.

  ‘I’m sorry, they won’t allow me to,’ he said. ‘I really would if I could.’

  Nurse Buss was a large lady and she too was rather out of breath. ‘Didn’t get time to even put my corsets on,’ she said. ‘Now, Mrs . . .?’ She looked at Kathleen’s hand, noting the ring.

  ‘Clancy, but she is called Kathleen,’ Jessie supplied.

  ‘That’s nice – do they shorten it to Kitty, I wonder?’ Nurse was talking to put her patient at ease as she prepared to make her examination.

  ‘No!’ Kathleen yelled, becoming agitated.

  ‘Don’t fret, Kathleen . . . Easy now, try and relax. Good gracious, things are happening fast!’ said Nurse Buss. ‘The pain will soon be over. Are you ready to help me, Jessie?’

  It was midnight; as the clock began to chime, the winter baby was born, at this very special time . . .

  *

  Danny hadn’t gone downstairs; he was standing outside the door, alarmed at the shrieks coming from the bedroom. Abruptly the cries ceased, then he heard agitated voices.

  ‘The cord’s round the baby’s neck!’ Jessie exclaimed.

  ‘Stand back, I’ll deal with it,’ Nurse Buss replied. ‘Oh my word, it’s a wonder the baby wasn’t throttled as it came out.’

  ‘Why isn’t the baby crying?’ Jessie asked, sounding panicked.

  ‘I’m doing everything I can . . .’

  Danny couldn’t stand it. He dropped the cup, which broke and spilled cocoa onto the landing, and opened the bedroom door to see the nurse swinging the baby by its heels from side to side. At that moment the little bundle gave an indignant cry. Nurse Buss turned it right way up and belatedly announced, ‘It’s a girl! About five pounds – early, but all there!’

  Danny rushed over to the bedside, where Kathleen stretched out her hand to him once more for comfort.

  ‘It’s a girl,’ Kathleen murmured.

  ‘I know, I heard,’ he said.

  ‘I must be dreaming,’ she said, sounding far away.

  ‘Is he the father?’ Nurse Buss asked bluntly.

  Before Jessie could answer, Danny heard himself saying, ‘Yes.’

  ‘She’s not Mrs Clancy then,’ Nurse Buss said, ‘but I won’t give my opinion. I won’t spread the news; I don’t approve of that. She’s been through a lot, poor lass, and there’s more to do here, so go downstairs, Danny, and tell Sam to make a big pot of tea.’ She turned to Kathleen and gave her the baby to hold. ‘She’s not cleaned up yet, but nor are you. Is that basket ready to put the baby in, Jessie? Does she have a name?’

  ‘Heather,’ Kathleen said. Her lips trembled as she looked down at the baby’s little wrinkled red face. ‘A lucky sprig of heather.’

  Jessie asked tentatively, ‘Could her second name be Mary?’

  ‘Mary was my mother’s name . . .’ Kathleen drew a deep breath. ‘Oh, what’s happening now?’ she cried.

  ‘Take your granddaughter, Jessie, while I deal with the afterbirth. And keep the boys at bay until we’ve seen to it,’ Nurse Buss said in her forthright way. ‘Have you a nightgown and a shawl for this little one?’

  ‘Yes, they’re in the chest of drawers.’ Granddaughter, Jessie thought. Goodness knows what my Danny has committed himself to, but whatever transpires, I’ll love this little girl like one of my own, like the baby I hoped to have . . .

  *

  ‘You shouldn’t have said that,’ Sam said bluntly to Danny. ‘How could you have been responsible? Kathleen only turned up here a few days ago. You may have let yourself in for a packet of trouble. She’s a victim of bad treatment, that’s obvious, but we know very little about her.’

  ‘Except she was desperate for someone to help her, Sam. She trusts us, I can tell, and Mother already treats her like a lost daughter.’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of. Suppose Kathleen has done something terrible and that’s why she got beaten up?’ Sam couldn’t help recalling the paper he had burned the night she arrived at their house.

  ‘Don’t be silly, she’s too young for that.’

  ‘And you, Danny, are not quite nineteen. Neither of you is grown up yet, but someone got her with child,
didn’t they? Besides, you’ve got a sweetheart. Marion is probably dreaming right now of her future with you. Don’t tell me you think you’re in love with Kathleen!’

  ‘I feel I want to look after her – she seems innocent, despite having a baby. You’d better not say any more, Sam!’

  Tempers were flaring now, just as Jessie came in to tell Sam that the midwife was ready to leave, adding to Danny, ‘Kathleen wants to thank you for what you said, though she knows you spoke on impulse so you are not to worry about it.’

  Danny felt embarrassed when he ventured near the bed, for the baby, wrapped in a blanket, downy dark head still damp from her first bath in a basin, was cuddled in Kathleen’s arms. Seeing his flushed face, she twitched the sheet to conceal her bare breast where the baby was attempting to suckle.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said awkwardly. ‘You wanted to say something to me?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you for trying to cover up for me not being married, but people will soon guess the truth. Anyway, Jessie says a baby is always a blessing, in or out of wedlock.’

  It was the most she had said since she had arrived at Home Farm; the shock of giving birth before her time appeared to have changed things.

  ‘She has your dark hair,’ he observed. ‘Sleep well tonight, Kathleen.’

  ‘I hope I haven’t upset all the Christmas plans,’ she said, sounding sad.

  Jessie, coming into the room at that moment, put in, ‘Of course you haven’t. You’ll have to stay up here to rest, Kathleen. Nurse Buss will be calling daily for a week, and those are her orders. You’ll be up and about again to see the new year in, I’m sure! Our friend Mrs Amos and her daughter Marion are coming to share Christmas Day with us as they always do, so I will have plenty of help in the kitchen, and we’ll make sure you don’t miss out on your Christmas dinner!’ Jessie smothered a yawn. She had instructed Sam to put the gifts round the tree, but she couldn’t come to bed yet herself.

  ‘How kind you all are,’ Kathleen said to them. She closed her eyes; she needed to say a little silent prayer of relief for her baby’s safe arrival and to confess that she was still more confused than joyful. She ended with Please let me stay here forever; I am safe here.

  Jessie leaned over the bed. ‘The baby’s asleep. Your milk won’t come in for a day or two, but both of you are getting used to the idea, eh? Pass her to me and I’ll settle her in the basket. You should have a nap too. I’ll be up later to see to you both. Goodnight, Kathleen.’

  *

  Kathleen awoke in the night, shaking and dripping with perspiration. She called out to Jessie, who had not long been in bed herself, and Jessie padded on her bare feet over to the other bed. ‘Hush, Kathleen – don’t wake the baby. What’s wrong?’

  ‘I had a bad dream . . .’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘There was a man chasing after me; I thought he would catch me, take me back.’

  ‘Back where? To where you came from, before you found the Pilgrims’ Way?’

  ‘I don’t know . . . He had a black beard.’ Kathleen shuddered.

  ‘Oh that’s why you were alarmed when you first met my Sam – it wasn’t him, Kathleen, you know that! Your memory is coming back, perhaps.’

  ‘I don’t want to remember! Except . . . it was something to do with the baby. He said I had to be punished.’

  ‘Did he . . . was he the one?’

  ‘He was accusing me, but I got away!’

  ‘It was only a bad dream,’ Jessie said, trying to sound convincing. ‘Go back to sleep and forget it; that’s the best thing to do. You are with friends here; we’ll protect you, I promise.’

  At her own bed, she turned and reminded Kathleen, ‘It’s Christmas Day. How wonderful for your baby to be born on such a blessed day.’

  FOUR

  Danny collected Marion and her mother at mid-morning on Christmas Day, after he’d fed and watered the horses and chickens, and milked the goats. Meanwhile Sam saw to the fires and the stove. They wouldn’t exchange their modest presents until the afternoon; the parcels were still round the tree. The guests also had gifts to distribute at the farm.

  Marion and Danny had been friends since childhood; she was already nineteen, a few months older than him. This past year had seen a change in their relationship. Marion had grown into an attractive young woman with a curvaceous figure and blonde hair piled on top of her head. She no longer had any plaits to pull, which Danny had once been prone to do. Danny had changed too; he was no longer a skinny youth. He’d shot up in height and Marion had realised with surprise that he was disturbingly attractive, something she had not been aware of before. Their days of rough-and-tumble together, scrambling up haystacks and playing ball games in the field, had passed. Sam would say that they mooned at each other nowadays, but Marion had been well counselled by her mother and allowed Danny to go so far but no further when the two were entwined – as Sam also put it – under the porch when reluctantly parting at night.

  Mrs Amos was a widow like Jessie, and Marion was her only child. Together they worked their smallholding further along the lane. They had a fine flock of Rhode Island Red chickens, and like Danny and Sam, they had chores to do before taking the rest of the day off.

  ‘The capons smell good, Mrs Mason,’ Mrs Amos observed, sniffing the aroma in the kitchen. The chickens, ready for the oven, had been her contribution to the dinner. Despite knowing each other for years, the two women still addressed one another formally.

  Jessie indicated the piles of vegetables awaiting attention on the table. She was glad she had sliced and salted down the runner beans early in the autumn, as they could be tipped straight into a saucepan after rinsing. The Christmas pudding rocked merrily on the stove. There would be custard to make later, and Jessie had already whipped up the cream and put the jug on the marble slab in the pantry to keep cool.

  ‘Marion and I will see to the table in the living room,’ Danny offered. ‘She’ll make sure everything is in the right place.’

  ‘The best silver, mind,’ his mother told him. ‘Remember forks and dessert spoons for the pudding today.’

  ‘I suppose that leaves me to do the potatoes,’ Sam said with a wry grin.

  ‘Cut the ones for roasting into quarters,’ Jessie reminded him. ‘Mrs Amos and I will tackle the sprouts – Danny picked them with the frost on them first thing.’

  ‘I nearly got frostbite in the process,’ Danny said ruefully.

  ‘You’ve given almost all the carrots to your horses; it’s lucky I’ve got the big swede, plus parsnips, onions and red cabbage,’ Jessie told him. ‘Go and help Marion, then.’

  Marion was polishing the wine glasses with a clean cloth. ‘Mother’s brought you six bottles of her elderberry – how many sitting at the table?’

  ‘Five, though maybe Doc Wiseman’ll turn up. Mother said he was welcome to join us. She knows what he likes, and though he says he isn’t kosher, whatever that is, he mainly eats vegetables. But that isn’t a problem here.’

  ‘What about your visitor – I hear she’s just had a baby? You didn’t tell me about her! I think Mother knew but she didn’t say anything. I expect she thought it was none of our business.’ Marion sounded rather cross.

  Danny encircled her waist with his arms as she bent to position the final glass to her satisfaction. ‘How about a kiss for Christmas?’ he asked boldly.

  ‘Answer my question first – why didn’t you tell me? We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.’ His hands moved to cup her breasts. ‘Danny! Someone’s bound to come in here any minute – keep your hands to yourself!’ she said, disengaging herself.

  ‘Kathleen – that’s her name – only had the baby last night, just after midnight, so it’s a Christmas baby. I’ll take you upstairs later to meet her, eh? Then you’ll see she’s just a girl.’

  ‘She’s old enough to have a baby. And why should I want to meet her?’ she pointed out, before he kissed her to prevent any more questions. Then her arms wen
t firmly round his neck. ‘Are we going to tell the family today about our plans to get engaged?’ she asked him. ‘Mother’s already expecting an announcement.’

  Sam coughed to let them know he was about to come into the room. Had he overheard their conversation? Danny wondered. They sprang apart and Marion busied herself with the cutlery. Danny winked at his brother. ‘Mother said use the best rush mats; they’re in the end drawer. I suppose you’ve come to help.’

  Sam batted him lightly on the head with one of the mats. ‘Watch your step!’ he advised him.

  *

  Christmas dinner was a long-drawn-out affair. The capons and ham, which had been cooked with a couple of bay leaves, were carved by Sam, and the vegetables were served: the red cabbage finely shredded, the swede mashed into a golden mound, the parsnips roasted with the potatoes, the carrots glistening with butter, the bright colour of the sprouts rivalling the green of the finely sliced runner beans. There were sausages rolled in streaky bacon, bread sauce and stuffing, delicious redcurrant sauce, and the little silver dishes lined with blue glass were filled with salt, pepper and mustard. The elderflower wine loosened tongues; there was much laughter and joking.

  Between courses, Danny reached for Marion’s hand under cover of the red-and-white-checked tablecloth, but she snatched it away. When Jessie served Kathleen’s modest portion into a bowl, it was Danny she asked to take the food upstairs. Sam had said he would shave his beard off, but he hadn’t done so yet, and she didn’t want Kathleen getting upset today.

  Kathleen was dozing when Danny tapped politely on the door and came in with the tray, which he placed on the bedside table. ‘Merry Christmas, Kathleen.’ He touched her shoulder gently.

  She opened her eyes then and sat up, hair tumbling round her shoulders, and he plumped up the pillows behind her. As he leaned over, on an impulse he gave her a brief kiss on her cheek, which was damp with tears. Before he realised what she was about to do, she turned her face and kissed him full on the mouth. He could taste the salt on her lips.