The Winter Baby

by Sheila Newberry

  ‘Only if you want to confide in me,’ Jessie said patiently.

  ‘I was newly qualified as a doctor. It made no difference to how I was treated, but I was useful to them in that terrible place. Because of the crowded conditions, many people became ill. These included members of my own family. My mother contracted tuberculosis and died; my dear wife cared for her until she also passed away . . . my young son, too. He was only five years old. It was a terrible time. Young women were beaten, like Kathleen, and violated. Along with a friend, I planned to escape. One day perhaps I will tell you about that part of my life, but even after all these years it is still a wound that will not heal.’

  Jessie took hold of his hand and squeezed it. ‘Doc, you have a family again, all of us.’

  ‘Thank you, Jessie,’ he said. ‘Then you must call me by my name, I think: Abraham.’

  *

  Mrs Amos looked keenly at her daughter’s midriff. ‘No glad tidings yet, I see,’ she commented. She turned to Danny. ‘Could be your fault,’ she said. ‘Not on my side of the family. Mind you, I never wanted more than one child, so my husband had to toe the line.’

  ‘Mother!’ Marion said, shocked. ‘Our private life is our own affair. We are in no hurry,’ she added, but she knew her mother would guess this was untrue. She wasn’t really sure why she had changed her mind and wanted a baby so much, but she supposed it would help to make their marriage stronger. She wouldn’t admit to herself that she still worried about the effect Kathleen had on her husband. It was a relief to hear that Sam and Kathleen were now together with Kathleen’s baby.

  As if she could read her daughter’s thoughts, Mrs Amos asked, ‘What about your brother, Danny? No glad tidings there?’

  Danny spoke before Marion could stop him. ‘That’s their business! Sam will make a good husband.’

  ‘Oh well, you make your bed and you lie in it, eh?’ Mrs Amos replied. ‘But who knows what that girl was up to before she came here.’

  ‘Mother!’ Marion interrupted. ‘We came over today to find out if you were coming to the farm as usual this Christmas – oh, and to ask if we can have a dozen eggs. Jessie is wanting to make the puddings and cake.’

  ‘You can have the eggs, but tell Mrs Mason I am thinking of staying at home this year. Bert, my assistant, will be here and the fowl must be fed, Christmas or no Christmas. I had hoped you two might condescend to keep me company on Christmas Day.’

  ‘We’ll think about it,’ Marion told her. She could sense Danny’s relief, and remembering last Christmas, she thought it might be a good solution. Jessie would have a houseful anyway, for Sam, Kathleen and little Heather would be at the farm for a few days.

  *

  ‘Time to get up,’ Kathleen yawned, prodding Sam, who lay beside her in bed. He yawned and then hugged her to him.

  ‘Ten more minutes,’ he whispered, ‘while Heather is asleep . . .’ He was proving an ardent lover, and usually she didn’t mind at all.

  ‘Not just now,’ she said. ‘We are usually eating in the kitchen by eight o’clock.’

  Later, at breakfast time, he said casually, ‘I’m taking the day off, and so are you. I thought we might visit your friend the minister’s wife. We have something to ask her.’

  ‘Have we?’ she said, smiling.

  ‘You know very well what I am getting at. I don’t want to wait until spring to marry you, because if we carry on as we are, Heather could soon have a little brother or sister, and I think it would be good to be husband and wife before then. What about you?’

  ‘You know I want that as much as you do, Sam. What about the new year?’

  ‘How about Boxing Day?’

  ‘Sam! How could we possibly arrange to be married so soon?’

  ‘Well, it’s three weeks away – let’s see what Min says.’

  ‘Her husband will need to be consulted,’ Kathleen said. ‘I know Jessie will be thrilled.’

  She wondered how she would feel going back to the village below the Pilgrims’ Way. However, bowling along in the buggy borrowed from Jessie was very different from stumbling along in a blizzard, not knowing where she was going. Heather, in a warm coat, leggings and bonnet, jigged up and down on her lap with excitement. Froggie was tucked in her pocket; the soft toy was her favourite and went everywhere with her. She could almost say his name; her best attempt was ‘Foggie’.

  They parked outside the manse beyond the little chapel. Sam noticed that Kathleen looked pale and swayed a trifle as he lifted them together to the ground. He took Heather from her and said quietly, ‘Are you feeling unwell, Kathleen? Was it too bumpy a ride?’

  She managed a smile. ‘I feel a bit sick,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t say anything.’

  Min opened the door. ‘What a lovely surprise!’ Just then, Kathleen felt herself falling, as she had the first time Min had called to see her at the farm. There had been a couple of visits since.

  Sam handed Heather to Min and bent over Kathleen in the hallway of the house. Her eyes were already flickering open. ‘We seem to be making a habit of this,’ he said ruefully, as he lifted her up into his arms. Min pushed open an inner door. ‘Bring her in here, Sam, there’s a good fire going. You’ll meet my husband Joshua, too; he’s looking over his sermon for Sunday.

  ‘Josh, this is Kathleen, who you have heard so much about. And this is Sam, and here is dear little Heather.’

  Sam divested Kathleen of her plaid coat, and Joshua smiled and said, ‘I seem to remember that cape . . . Min wore it, didn’t you, my dear? When we were walking on the moors in Scotland and I picked you that sprig of heather.’

  Kathleen found her voice. ‘It’s still in the pocket – it brought me luck, and I met Sam.’

  Sam helped her into a comfortable chair. ‘I’m so sorry to have alarmed you all,’ she said. He picked up Heather, who was peering at a little Jack Russell dog hiding under his master’s chair.

  ‘It’s not Ollie, Heather. Sit on Mummy’s lap, eh?’

  A little while later Min suggested, ‘You have colour back in your cheeks, Kathleen – shall you, Heather and I go into the kitchen and make the tea? I have a batch of scones in the oven, too; I don’t want to overcook those! We’ll leave the men to have a chat. I imagine that’s why you came today . . .’

  It was an old-fashioned kitchen with a big pine table in the centre and eight chairs around it. ‘Yes,’ Min said, ‘we are still a houseful! The two oldest are pursuing further studies; one wants to be a doctor, the other a lawyer. The four younger boys – aged ten to sixteen – are at school. They all have tremendous appetites; it is like feeding the five thousand, Joshua says.

  ‘Now, here is the little chair we keep for visiting children, so pop Heather in it and I’ll find a toy or two to keep her amused. She can have a scone when they cool down. And while the tea brews, we can have a chat.’

  ‘I want you to know, Min, how happy I am with Sam and my baby, and I hope Sam is asking your husband at this moment if we can be married on Boxing Day in your chapel, because – oh, you must disapprove of our present situation, and—’

  ‘My dear, I never presume to judge others, nor does Joshua. It will be a joy to us to be involved in your wedding. Is there something else you wish to confide to me?’

  ‘Well, I have only just realised it myself, after fainting and feeling sick, that I might be expecting another baby. Sam obviously doesn’t know yet, but we only . . . you know, for the first time six weeks ago – could it be possible?’

  Min smiled. ‘I’m sure it could, Kathleen. Has this upset you?’

  ‘No, because . . . well, as Jessie said when Heather was born, babies are always a blessing. But it could be a shock to Sam.’

  ‘He loves you, he will soon get used to the idea. Now, does Sam take sugar in his tea?’

  The two men were smiling when Min, Kathleen and Heather re-entered the study, and Heather toddled over to Sam. ‘Up, Dada,’ she told him. He swung her up and then sat her on his la
p.

  ‘What are you worrying about?’ Min whispered in Kathleen’s ear. ‘He adores Heather; he will be a wonderful father.’

  ‘It’s all arranged,’ Sam said. ‘The banns will called here on Sunday, and for the third time on the Sunday before Christmas – we must arrange to be there each time.’

  ‘A private ceremony,’ Joshua put in, ‘just family. Min, I’m sure, will play the harmonium and choose the hymns. We have decided on ten in the morning so that you won’t have to travel home in the dark.’

  Sam said, ‘I asked the minister’s advice on another important matter, Kathleen. He agrees with me that I should apply to the Church of England Adoption Society as soon as possible to formally adopt Heather, then she will take my surname and I will be her father.’

  ‘Oh Sam!’ Kathleen was crying tears of joy. ‘You have made me so happy!’

  That night, she plucked up courage to tell him that there was a definite possibility she might be pregnant again.

  ‘Does that mean we can’t . . .?’ he asked tentatively.

  ‘Not until the new year, because you never know with the first three months, but after that – well, things should have settled down. I want this to be a joyful time for both of us, so tell me, Sam, are you happy about it?’

  ‘Of course I am! All those ridiculous ideas I had about marriage and children, well, those have been thrown out of the window. We have been together such a short time, though, it has come as a surprise! When do you think we . . .?’

  ‘On what I think of as our honeymoon night,’ she told him demurely.

  *

  At the farm that night, Marion had planned a surprise for Danny. She undressed quickly, stuffed her voluminous nightgown under her pillow and covered herself up to the chin with the sheet.

  Danny was whistling as usual as he took off his clothes, which was a signal for Marion to shut her eyes. Tonight, however, she kept them wide open and couldn’t help giggling because he was unaware that she was gazing at his body. As he reached for his nightshirt, she said, ‘Don’t bother with that, Danny, come as you are! It’s time we had a revelation.’

  ‘Whatever are you suggesting?’ He came anyway and was about to snuff the candle out when she threw off the sheet. She was not behaving coyly as usual. He averted his eyes despite the excitement generated by seeing her unclothed and climbed hastily in bed next to her. He tried to pull the sheet up, but she resisted.

  ‘Isn’t this the most natural thing in the world?’ she asked.

  ‘Your mother would certainly not approve.’

  ‘I don’t care any more what Mother thinks; she’s a bit of a tyrant, isn’t she? And what she doesn’t see, she can’t worry about. Well, are you shocked, Danny?’

  ‘You have . . . a womanly shape, Marion.’

  ‘Is that all you can say? Who do I remind you of?’

  ‘No one, believe me.’ But that was not quite true. He remembered an older boy who had discovered a secret cache of rather risqué photographs under a loose floorboard and had brought them to school to show the other boys. Danny had blushed then, being fair-skinned, as he did now.

  ‘Let’s make the most of me not being in the family way!’ Marion whispered. Desperate measures, she thought, but I suppose I am playing a part. Danny had kept his word, avoiding Kathleen, but Marion was aware that he still thought of her; he had been dreaming the other night and had called out her name . . .

  *

  It was Christmas Day and they were celebrating Heather’s first birthday at the farm. Heather was entranced by all the decorations. The cuckoo clock – Jessie’s special gift from her two sons and their wives, for she already thought of Kathleen as that – amused the little girl too; she put her thumb in her mouth the first time she saw the cuckoo popping in and out of the clock door, but after that she had her eye on it, waiting for the next ‘Cuckoo!’ She opened her Christmas stocking first thing, and later, several birthday presents, which were round the tree with the family’s Christmas gifts. She loved the humming top from Jessie, and Sam had to set it spinning whenever it stopped.

  Sam and Kathleen had still not revealed that they were to marry on Boxing Day, or told anyone about the new baby. Sam promised Kathleen he would mention the wedding in his after-dinner speech. Maybe Jessie had guessed their secret, though, as Kathleen appeared to have lost her appetite, and disappeared now and then to the privy outside.

  Danny and Marion were spending the day with Mrs Amos after they had finished their morning chores at the stables, so it was just Jessie, Sam and Kathleen with young Heather and Doc Wiseman at this year’s festive table, under which Ollie lurked waiting for scraps. It was a more modest dinner – just one roast chicken – but accompanied by all the usual vegetables and sauces. They were lacking the elderberry wine that Mrs Amos always provided, but Jessie had made delicious lemonade, which was served in tall green glasses with a slice of lemon in each.

  ‘You’re staying tonight aren’t you?’ she asked. ‘Sorry, it’s still a single bed in Heather’s room, but I’m sure you won’t mind. Ollie can sleep in my peg basket, after I’ve removed the pegs!’

  Sam grinned at her. ‘I’ll have to squeeze Kathleen in: I’m a big lad, remember!’

  Later, as they pulled their home-made crackers, Doc stood up to thank Jessie for the lovely dinner and good cheer, then raised his glass of lemonade.

  ‘To Jessie,’ they chorused.

  It was Sam’s turn. He cleared his throat. ‘What can I add to Doc’s wise words . . .?’ A pause for laughter at the pun, then, ‘I am issuing an invitation from Kathleen and myself to our wedding tomorrow at half past ten in the morning. Doc, will you come along with Mother? We’d like you to give the bride away, and Mother to hold the baby while we tie the knot. We are to be married at the chapel where Kathleen stayed the night before she came here.’

  ‘Have you asked Danny and Marion already?’ Jessie asked anxiously.

  ‘I spoke to Danny this morning at the stables. He will be my best man.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He wished me good luck, and when I slipped up on a patch of manure, he laughed and said, “There you are, you’ve got lucky already.” ’

  Doc Wiseman rose again, glass in hand. ‘Good news indeed. We can all travel together, eh? I’ve got my buggy here too.’

  ‘What will you wear?’ Jessie asked Kathleen.

  ‘The lovely red velvet dress you gave me last Christmas,’ Kathleen replied. She had a sudden thought: will it fit me?

  ‘And you, Sam?’

  ‘The suit I wore to Danny and Marion’s wedding.’

  ‘Heather will, of course, wear the lovely smocked frock you made for her,’ Kathleen told Jessie.

  Jessie had the final word. ‘No Christmas cake for tea today; it’s a wedding cake now! You have actually chosen a good time, because I made far too much food as usual, so your wedding breakfast will be here, of course. Oh, and I must iron Doc’s best shirt . . .’

  ‘Mother always rises to the occasion,’ Sam said in the narrow bed that night. ‘But we must decline to stay tomorrow night and go home to our own bed!’

  At midnight, Jessie and Doc were still in the living room, with old Bob, who had been sulking all day because of the intrusive pup. They were talking over the day’s events and surprises. ‘Everything has changed this year,’ Jessie said. ‘Last Christmas, the boys were, well, just boys still. Then Danny decided to marry Marion, and now Sam is about to marry Kathleen; oh why are they in such a hurry?’

  ‘I think you can guess why. Falling in love is like being consumed by a fever,’ Doc said slowly, ‘but eventually lovers cool down and family life begins for the next generation.’

  ‘Do you mean there are babies already on the way?’ She already had her suspicions.

  ‘One baby, perhaps . . .’

  ‘Marion or Kathleen?’

  He smiled. ‘We will have to wait and see, Jessie.’

  ‘I can remember that
fever, can you?’ She sounded wistful. ‘My husband used to say, “Let your hair down, Jessie”, but it all seems so long ago.’ He used to take the pins out of her bun, and her hair would tumble down round her bare shoulders, preserving her modesty. But she couldn’t tell Doc that.

  ‘It was a long time ago for me too, but you are still hopeful it will recur, perhaps?’

  Jessie didn’t answer that. She said instead, ‘Time to retire, Doc, eh? We must make an early start.’

  TWELVE

  It was a cold and frosty morning on Boxing Day, so wedding finery was covered up with warm coats, while bonnets and stovepipe hats flattened hair but prevented it tangling in the wind. The ponies had red ribbons tied to their harness to match the bride’s dress, and the guests huddled together under blankets. Danny was in the driver’s seat of the first buggy and Marion sat beside him. Those behind only saw their back view and heard snatches of their conversation. Sam had a protective arm round Kathleen. He felt anxious because she had been very sick first thing and had refused to eat breakfast. Doc followed in his buggy with Jessie and little Heather, who was cuddled up on her grandma’s lap.

  They all braced themselves as they entered the chapel; it was almost as cold inside as out. Kathleen pointed out to Sam the settle where she had spent that fateful night. Today, lamps were lit, casting a golden glow, oak pews polished, and they were greeted by music, for Min was at the harmonium as promised. There were tall candles round the altar, Christmas greenery decorating the windowsills; it was a simple interior, but there were lovely biblical pictures on the walls, a wooden Nativity scene set out on a table, and the atmosphere was welcoming. There was a high domed ceiling, for there was a gallery above. No one sat up there today. On Christmas Day, every pew had been taken.

  ‘I must take my cape off,’ Kathleen whispered to Sam.

  ‘Are you sure? It doesn’t matter if you keep it on,’ he said.

  ‘It won’t be for too long, and I want to look like a bride, Sam.’

  Danny came alongside and indicated that he and Sam should go to the altar steps and wait for the bride there. Doc Wiseman took his cue and linked arms with Kathleen. ‘Don’t hurry,’ he advised her. ‘We don’t want you to faint today . . .’