A Vicarage Homecoming

Home > Contemporary > A Vicarage Homecoming > Page 19
A Vicarage Homecoming Page 19

by Kate Hewitt


  And while Miriam wasn’t thrilled with the idea of Dan going through her underwear drawer or packing the necessary sanitary pads and nipple cream—not that he’d even know to pack those—she was feeling too uncomfortable to protest. She nodded, and he gave her hand a quick squeeze before heading back to the annexe.

  Her stomach tightened again, painfully this time, there could be no denying it. Miriam heard herself start to breathe in and out in short pants, and marvelled at the instinct. What was she even doing? She didn’t know, but somehow her body did.

  Dan climbed back in the Rover a few minutes later, looking concerned. “Did you just have another contraction?”

  “No,” Miriam lied. They were coming closer now, but she didn’t want to admit that to Dan. They had to get to Esther’s first.

  “Are they coming closer together?” Dan persisted.

  “Maybe a little. Drive, Dan.”

  Frowning, he started the Rover and began to inch down the drive. Miriam willed him to go faster, but the snow was deep and even in four-wheel drive it was hard going. Panic started to lap at the edges of her mind like an icy tide. She had to get to Esther’s. She had to get to the hospital. Miriam didn’t want to consider any alternatives.

  But halfway down the single-track road to Will and Esther’s farm, Dan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Miriam. It’s impassable, even for a Rover.”

  “Nooo…” The word came out in a moan. “Why don’t I take you to Simon and Anna’s?” he suggested. “Anna could come with you, and we could still try to make it to Carlisle…”

  “Try?” Miriam gasped out, and then, just like in the films, she clutched her belly. “Oh my days…”

  “Miriam.” Dan put his hand on her arm. “They’re coming much faster now, aren’t they? Were you lying to me?”

  “Maybe,” she muttered. “But that one really hurt.”

  “All right, listen. Let’s drive back to my place. I can get you comfortable and then I’ll ring Anna.”

  “Why not just get stop by the vicarage and get Anna now?”

  “Because you’re too far in labour to waste any more time,” Dan stated bluntly. “You’re not going to make it to Carlisle, Miriam. With the way the roads are, it would take hours, and there would be no guarantee we’d even get there. So the question is, do you want to have this baby in the car alongside some snowy road, or back in my house, in a bed?”

  “What?” The word came out in a desperate screech. “Dan, I need to go to a hospital. I am so not one of those mother earth types who plans a homebirth and fries up the placenta. Seriously, that is so not me. I need drugs and midwives and drugs. I really need drugs.”

  Dan gave a little smile, even as his eyes remained shadowed with worry. “I have some drugs. They’re meant for animals, but I think they’ll do the job. They’ll help anyway.”

  “Heaven help me,” Miriam moaned, clutching her belly. “I really am a pregnant cow now.”

  “You can do this, Miriam. You’re going to be fine, and your baby is, as well.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You told me the midwife said the baby was head down and engaged,” Dan replied reasonably. “This should be a straightforward delivery, and I’ve delivered babies before.”

  Wait, Dan was going to deliver her baby? He was going to see her poo while she was pushing? Somehow, amidst all the pain and panic, Miriam hadn’t quite twigged that fact.

  “Dan,” she said as firmly as she could, considering the amount of pain she was in as another contraction seized her middle. “You cannot deliver my baby.”

  “Would you prefer Anna or Simon to do it?”

  “No. I really want to go to hospital.”

  “That’s not going to be possible, Miriam. I’m sorry.” She let out a groan of frustration, tears pricking her eyes as she stared out the heavily falling snow. This wasn’t fair. A child’s cry, but she felt it deeply now.

  Driving slowly through the near-blinding snow, they’d managed to get back to Dan’s house.

  He helped her from the car, and Miriam staggered towards the door, her mind still spinning. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.

  “Let’s get you comfortable,” Dan said, “and then I’ll ring Anna.”

  He led her to a tastefully decorated spare bedroom, and Miriam eyed the crisp duvet askance. Was she really going to give birth here?

  “This might be messy,” she warned him, cringing again at the thought of him seeing her that way.

  “It’s most certainly going to be messy,” Dan replied with a smile. “But I’ve seen it all before.”

  “You most certainly haven’t,” Miriam huffed. “Have you ever delivered a human baby?”

  “No,” he admitted, “but plenty of lambs, calves, and foals.”

  “Not quite the same thing.”

  “Not quite, but close enough, hopefully. And there’s always the internet. I’ve already googled how to deliver a baby at home, and they’ve got plenty of tips. The kettle’s already on the boil.”

  “What, to sterilise things?” Miriam practically yelped. Hadn’t she seen that sort of thing in period dramas on the telly? What was this, the 1800s?

  “No, for a cup of tea. I’ve got sterilising solution for that purpose. Now, do you want to change into something more comfortable?” He gestured towards the maternity jeans she’d yanked on. “Maybe a nightgown?”

  “I don’t have any nightgowns,” Miriam practically snapped. She was suddenly feeling irritable, and still near tears. “I’m not eighty.”

  “You could borrow one of my T-shirts.”

  And leave her bottom half bare? Of course, she was going to have to, when it came time to actually get this baby out. “I really don’t like this,” she wailed, turning away from him. “You are never going to look at me the same again.”

  “Miriam, is that what you’re worried about?”

  “It’s embarrassing,” she said with a sniff.

  Dan came over and put his hands on her shoulders, drawing her into a hug. “Trust me, it won’t feel embarrassing when you’re in the middle of it. You’ll just want it to be over.”

  “That doesn’t really help, you know.”

  “Sorry.” He stepped back, touching her cheek lightly. “Miriam, if I don’t look at you the same again, it will only be because I’ll admire you so much. You are one of the strongest people I know. You can do this.”

  “I’m not strong,” Miriam scoffed.

  “You are. You came back home, you faced everyone, you admitted your mistakes, and you rebuilt your life. Miriam, you’re amazing.”

  The tears that had been threatening started to spill down her cheeks. “Now you’ve made me cry.”

  “Sorry.”

  Another contraction hit her and she doubled over, gasping. “That did not feel good.” She did the breathing in and out thing again, because it really did help. “I’ll get changed. Will you ring Anna?”

  “Yes, I’ll do it now.”

  He fetched her a thankfully roomy T-shirt, and while Miriam changed, breathing through another contraction, Dan went to ring Anna.

  “She’s not answering,” he said when he returned to the room. Miriam had put on a pair of yoga pants from the bag Dan had packed, because she wasn’t pushing yet and she wasn’t about to prance around in nothing but a T-shirt just for the kicks. “And Simon’s not answering the vicarage phone, either.”

  “What?” Miriam cried. “What is going on with people?” She shook her head, pacing the room. “This is stupid.” The words came out in a savage snarl; she suddenly felt incandescent with rage. “This is so stupid. It hardly ever snows except up in the fells. My mother never goes to Manchester. And nobody is answering their stupid phones!” Her voice rose in a howl of outrage. “This is so unbelievably stupid.”

  “I think you might be in transition,” Dan said as he glanced at his phone.

  “What is transition?”

  “It’s when you are transitioning into the f
inal stage of labour, when you start to push.”

  “What?” Miriam whirled around. “I’m not going to push yet. Anna isn’t here. You have to go get her.” She felt another wave of panic crash over her as she fought tears again, her emotions careening all over the place. “Please, Dan, I need someone here with me.”

  He hesitated, looking torn. “Miriam, it would take me at least ten minutes to get down to the vicarage, and then back again, plus the time waiting for Anna to wake up and get dressed… I just don’t think we have that kind of time now.”

  “Then why didn’t we pick her up on the way back, like I suggested?” Miriam snarled. “Oh, I know, because you’re stupid. Everyone is so stupid.” She started to cry, and then to shake, horrified at herself and yet at the same time not even caring.

  “Miriam, I think you should get on the bed,” Dan said gently. “I think I need to check you.”

  She stared at him, horrified. “Check me?”

  “To see how dilated you are.”

  “How are you going to check that?”

  “It’s not too different from animals, in this case. And I’ve got a YouTube video to help me.” He held up his phone. Miriam groaned.

  “Please, Miriam.”

  Wordlessly she heaved herself onto the bed. Another contraction gripped her and she did her breathing thing.

  “I just need to take off your pants…” Dan murmured, and she felt him start to slide them off. Well, this was not how she’d ever envisioned him saying such a thing, not that she really had, but… Oh. Another contraction hit her, and she stopped caring or even thinking about Dan. That hurt.

  “If you can just open your legs a little wider…”

  Miriam did, panting through another contraction. She felt Dan’s cool fingers against her skin and bit her lip. Don’t think about it. Do not think about any of it. Just don’t. “Well?” she demanded after a few taut seconds. “What’s happening down there?”

  “I think you’re about eight centimetres dilated,” Dan said. “So not long now. When you get to ten, you can push.”

  “What happened to those drugs, by the way?” Miriam demanded, glad when Dan had straightened up. She realised she hadn’t shaved anything in about six months and she shuddered to think what he thought. Not that she was going to think about that. She just had to blank her mind. It was the only way to survive this.

  “I can give you something now,” Dan said, reaching for her bag. “But it will take a few minutes to kick in.”

  “Give it to me,” Miriam growled. He did, and while she winced at the injection, it paled in comparison to the next contraction, which felled her. “I can’t do this,” she panted as it seemed to go on and on, twice as long as the one before. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this!”

  “You can do this—”

  “Shut up,” she snarled. “Shut up, you don’t know what you’re talking about; you’re a stupid man.”

  “True,” Dan murmured. He brushed her damp hair away from her face. “Sorry about that.”

  “Oh sure, you’re sorry.” She felt furious with a rage that she didn’t understand but could not be contained. “Do you even know what this feels like? No. Of course not. A man could never survive this. And what drugs did you give me? A paracetamol?”

  “You should start to feel some relief in a few minutes—”

  “I don’t feel anything.” Another contraction came, just seconds after the last. “Except these stupid contractions! I hate them! I hate them!” And then she was panting, and sobbing, and it was all so awful and endless. She was never going to have her baby. Ever.

  “You’re almost there, Miriam,” Dan said, his voice managing to be both soothing and bracing. “I think you’re almost fully dilated.”

  Which meant he was looking between her legs again. Don’t think about it.

  “Do you feel the need to push?”

  “I feel the need for this to stop,” Miriam snapped, but then, with the vicious onslaught of another contraction, she realised she did. “Yes—”

  “Wait a second, okay? Just a second, to make sure you’re fully—”

  “You want me to wait?” Now that she felt the urge to push, she really felt it. Waiting was not an option.

  “Just to make sure—”

  “I’m sure if you’re not.” And then, with a guttural, grunting sound that she wouldn’t have wanted anyone to hear, Miriam pushed.

  Dan was crouched between her legs, hands ready as if he were about to catch a rugby ball. “That’s great. That’s perfect. And again.”

  Again? She did. And again, and again, until she felt exhausted and emotionally spent, crying with the effort as well as the emotion. “How long is this supposed to take?” she demanded in a gasp. Her body felt as if it were wringing itself out.

  “Not too long now. I can see the head, lovely dark hair.”

  “Oh…” Tears sprang to her eyes. She pushed again.

  “Nearly there, Miriam, truly… One more push and the head will be out.”

  She felt as if she were being split in half. With another groaning sort of grunt, Miriam pushed.

  “She’s out!” Dan cried, his voice full of amazement and joy. “The head is out. Just the shoulders now.”

  “Eurgh…” Miriam pushed again. She felt as if she were pushing her intestines out, her whole body spasming.

  “There we are. There we are!” Dan let out a laugh, and lifted a tiny, wizened, red creature for her to see. “Your daughter.”

  “Oh my goodness,” Miriam said faintly. Despite everything that had happened, all she’d done, she still somehow wasn’t expecting to have a baby at the end of it. A human being.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” Dan laid the baby on her chest, smiling down at her, and Miriam gazed in wonder at the little scrunched-up face staring back at her uncertainly. Then the baby let out a cry that sounded like a scalded cat. Miriam looked at Dan in a panic.

  “She’s cold, probably,” he said. “Don’t worry. You’ve done brilliantly.”

  Gently Miriam patted her daughter’s back. “It’s all right, little one,” she whispered. “It’s all right now.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I must say, you seem remarkably fit for having given birth a few hours ago.” The midwife, having just checked her over, gazed at Miriam in a sturdy sort of approval. “Your partner did wonderfully.”

  Miriam bit her lip, not wanting to correct her in this moment. Her usual midwife knew she was single, but this one clearly didn’t. Considering all that had happened, it was an understandable assumption for her to make.

  “And baby’s doing well, too,” the midwife continued. “A good weight for being a bit early—seven pounds five ounces. And feeding well?”

  “I think so.” Soon after Dan had delivered the placenta and Miriam had cleaned herself up, she’d put her daughter to the breast, something that felt both natural and incredibly weird. Everything about this felt a weird mix of right and completely bizarre—she was a mother. And Dan had delivered her child. So, so strange.

  “Good. Well, I don’t think there’s any need for you to go to hospital, unless you want to. But with the snow…”

  “No,” Miriam said as she reached for her daughter. “I’ll stay here.”

  “You seem very cosy,” the midwife said with a smile. “And your partner is clearly besotted with your little one. I could barely get a cuddle in earlier.”

  “Oh…” She really needed to correct that whole partner thing, but for some reason Miriam was unwilling. The last few hours had been so nice, a cocoon of warmth and love. After her baby had been born and Miriam had changed into a clean T-shirt, she and Dan had sat together, marvelling at this new life. Watching Dan hold her had made Miriam ache with a ferocity that would have scared her if it hadn’t been so sweet.

  She didn’t want anything to pop the blissful bubble she was in, but she knew reality would. Her family would descend, everyone would get involved, and it wouldn’t be just her, Dan, and
the baby anymore. But for now, it was.

  “Your mum rang to say the trains are running again and she’ll be back by lunchtime,” Dan said once the midwife had gone. He was cradling the baby like an expert, but then he handed her to Miriam. “And your sisters are going to come over shortly.”

  “I almost don’t want them to,” Miriam admitted. “I know that sounds awful, but this has been so peaceful.”

  “You’re not still furious you didn’t make it to the hospital?” Dan teased.

  “I’m sorry I was so rude,” she answered, blushing. She couldn’t remember everything she’d said, but she knew it hadn’t been very polite. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “I do.” Dan nodded to the baby. “She did.”

  “Yes, she certainly did.”

  “Have you thought of a name yet?”

  “Yes, I think so.” She hesitated, feeling shy for some reason. “I think I’m going to call her Lucy.”

  “Lucy?” Dan sounded shocked.

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “Yes. It’s just…it was my mother’s name.”

  “Oh.” Had she known that, on a subconscious level? Miriam wasn’t sure. “Is it okay if…?”

  “Of course it is.” Dan smiled and shook his head. “It just surprised me, that’s all. But of course it is. I’d love it if you called her that.”

  “Good, then it’s settled.”

  They smiled at each other and Miriam glanced down at her daughter, still overwhelmed and amazed by the sheer presence of her, and the weight of her own love. She’d never thought she was particularly maternal, but now she knew she was.

  “Can I get you anything?” Dan asked. He’d been the epitome of kind solicitude since she’d given birth, fetching her tea and toast, tackling a nappy change, and giving her some more pain relief for the after pains. She might not have made it to a hospital, but Miriam knew she’d been well cared for.

  “No, I think I’m okay. You’ve been amazing, Dan. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “I know it isn’t how you wanted it…”

 

‹ Prev