Break of Dawn

by Rita Bradshaw

  ‘I never got it.’

  ‘No, well you wouldn’t if your aunt had anything to do with it,’ said Bridget darkly. ‘Anyway, we went back to Ireland and me mam died within the year but Da wanted to stay on, and as I was all he’d got . . . He went a month ago, God rest his soul, so I thought I’d come back and see if I could find out if you were all right. I’ve thought about you all the time, lass, and that’s God’s honest truth. I went to the vicarage but there’s new folk there and the lady – nice soul, she was – didn’t know anything about you, but told me Miss Patience had married a Dr Alridge and they lived Barnes Park way. I booked into a bed and breakfast last night and then went knocking on doors asking, but when I found the right house Miss Patience was out for the afternoon. So I went back tonight.’

  Bridget didn’t add here how amazed she had been at the welcome she’d received. She remembered Miss Patience as a spiteful little madam with a tongue on her like her mother, but the warm, friendly woman who had invited her in and told her about Sophy’s success and given her Sophy’s address had been kindness itself.

  ‘And here I am,’ Bridget finished softly.

  ‘Here you are.’ Sophy hugged her again, she couldn’t help it. ‘Can you stay, Bridget? I don’t mean just tonight, although we’ll get your things picked up from the bed and breakfast in a little while, but for good? Can you?’

  Bridget looked at Kane, clearly taken aback. He smiled broadly.

  ‘We’re looking for a nursemaid for when the twins are born and somehow I think we’ve found her,’ he said. ‘If you’re free, of course?’

  ‘Oh yes, sir.’ Bridget looked at Sophy. ‘Oh, lass, lass, I can’t believe it. I’ve been a bit low since my da went, not having bairns of my own, but I’ve always thought of you as my bairn . . .’ And then she stopped, again glancing at Kane as she said, ‘Not wishing to take liberties, sir.’

  ‘Take all the liberties you want, Bridget. You’ve done my wife the power of good. Now, give me the address of where your things are and Ralph will go and fetch them,’ he said briskly, pretending not to notice the tears in Bridget’s eyes. ‘And then we’ll see about settling you in. I’m sure my wife will want to show you the nursery later, but for now I’ll leave you two to chat.’ He put out his hand and touched Sophy’s cheek before leaving the room.

  ‘He seems a grand man, lass,’ Bridget said softly.

  ‘He is a grand man, Bridget.’

  ‘And you’re an actress, Miss Patience said? Fancy that.’

  Sophy nodded. ‘I went to London when I left the vicarage once my schooling had finished. The row, it was about my mother. My beginnings. Did – did you know that the story about her marrying a Frenchman wasn’t true?’

  Bridget bit her lip. ‘Not till you’ve just said, lass, although I have to admit I always had my suspicions. Me mam an’ da believed it, but they didn’t have as much to do with your mother as I did when she came home.’

  ‘She wasn’t married to my father.’

  ‘Well, all the same for that she was a real lady, lass, and nice with it, if you know what I mean. I liked her.’

  Sophy put out her hand and clasped Bridget’s once again. ‘Thank you. Anyway, I went to London . . .’ She told Bridget everything, about Cat, about Toby, Kane’s accident, filling in the missing years as they sat by the fire drinking another cup of tea together. Then they went through to the kitchen and Sophy introduced Bridget to Sadie and Harriet, explaining their shared background. When Kane came out of the study where he had been finishing the accounts Sophy had been working on earlier, the four women were laughing at one of Sadie’s witticisms, and he said again, but to himself, ‘Yes, the power of good,’ as he looked at his wife from the kitchen door. And, although not a churchgoing man, he sent up a swift prayer of thanks for the little Irishwoman who had come knocking at their door.

  Chapter 28

  The next few weeks passed without mishap and the house ran more smoothly than it ever had. Bridget fitted into the household as though she had always been there, and she and Sadie hit it off immediately, for which Sophy was thankful. Harriet had Ralph, and although Harriet was very fond of Sadie, she obviously preferred to sit by her own fireside with her husband once Josephine was tucked up in bed and her work in the house was finished for the day. Now, instead of Sadie retiring to her cottage at some point after she and Harriet had served dinner to Kane and Sophy and then made the kitchen spick and span, she and Bridget sat by the range drinking tea and putting the world to rights.

  It had been agreed that, for the present and until the twins, once they arrived, were old enough to go through the night, Bridget would sleep in the room next to the nursery so she was always on hand to help with night-feeds and so on. But once the children were older, Bridget would join Sadie in her cottage and the two women would share the little home.

  The only cause for concern as the last weeks of the pregnancy progressed was the swelling in Sophy’s feet and legs. This persisted, to a greater or lesser degree, during the whole of the month of November. A bitterly cold November, with thick frosts and ice and the odd snow flurry.

  Dr Palmer had flatly forbidden his patient to leave the house, and in truth Sophy didn’t think she could have done so even if she’d had his blessing. Looking at herself in the bedroom mirror, it was amazing to think she hadn’t known she was pregnant at first. Once her stomach had started to expand it hadn’t known how to stop, and even Harriet, the most tactful of creatures, had to admit Sophy looked as though she was going to burst. Sophy agreed with her – over the last weeks she felt as though she was going to burst too. She slept half-sitting up, propped against a pile of pillows because if she lay down flat she felt as though she couldn’t breathe, and she waddled rather than walked. In the last weeks her appetite had all but vanished, because, as she said to Kane when he worried about her small portions at the dinner-table, there was no room for anything but babies in her abdomen.

  But Sophy was happy and it showed.

  On the afternoons when Kane was working in his study or out checking on how things were going at the theatre with Ralph, she would join the three other women in the kitchen and sit in Sadie’s comfy armchair in front of the glowing range. The four of them would drink endless pots of tea, gossip about this and that, discuss names for the babies and generally enjoy themselves while the Arctic conditions outside made the kitchen all the more cosy. Sadie and Bridget’s knitting needles kept up a steady click-clack while they talked, and the pile of baby clothes grew week by week. Josephine revelled in all the attention she got, playing on the big thick clippy mat at their feet with her toys or having stories read to her. It was a halcyon time and despite her enormous bulk, Sophy was utterly content.

  She felt slightly guilty at times that she was detached from the outside world, the things that had mattered so much just weeks ago were fading into the background. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about the theatre, the women there, the bigger picture of the fight for the vote – just that it was difficult to concentrate her mind on anything but the forthcoming event. Her physical discomfort made sure of that. But the wonder of having Bridget back had given her a reassurance about the birth and caring for the babies afterwards, that nothing else could have done. Bridget had been with her from the beginning, she felt as though the little Irishwoman was part of her in a way that no one else was, and she loved her every bit as much as a mother.

  It was on the first day of December, when the snow flurries of the previous month attacked the north-east in earnest, that Sophy woke up from an uneasy doze. It was just after midnight and she felt distinctly unwell. The griping backache which had been making itself felt for the last forty-eight hours had worsened and spread to her abdomen, on top of which she felt nauseous.

  She lay in bed, trying to persuade herself that if she went back to sleep she’d feel better, but after half an hour or so the pains seemed to be strengthening. She was wondering whether she should wake Kane and ask him to get Ralph to fetch D
r Palmer when her whole stomach seemed to be gripped in a vice. She arched in the bed, gasping, and when Kane’s voice murmured, ‘Sophy? Is everything all right, sweetheart?’ she couldn’t speak for a few moments.

  Kane shot up in bed. ‘Is it the babies?’

  ‘I think so.’ Mercifully the pain was receding. She could now smile and say, ‘I think very shortly you are going to be a father, my darling.’

  Within a short while, controlled panic reigned.

  Ralph was dispatched to fetch Dr Palmer in the midst of the first real snow blizzard of the year. Sadie was roused and told to boil lots of hot water, and Bridget joined Sophy and Kane in the master bedroom. Harriet was fully occupied for the present seeing to little Josephine who had been awoken by the hustle and bustle and had decided it was morning, protesting vigorously at being put back to bed and crying for her daddy. Ralph spoiled the little girl shamelessly and Josephine had soon learned that if she wanted something, Daddy was the person to ask. Probably the calmest person in the whole mêlée was Sophy.

  The spasms of pain were excruciating at their peak, but in between the contractions she tried to reassure Kane who was as white as a sheet and visibly shaking. She would never have dreamed in a million years that her calm, unflappable husband could fall to pieces, but his distress at her pain was obvious. He recovered his aplomb after a while but she loved him all the more for his brief lapse.

  By the time Ralph returned with Dr Palmer, Sophy’s pains were coming every four minutes. After ascertaining a few facts, Dr Palmer told them that he was sure Sophy had been in mild labour since she’d experienced the strong backache. There was nothing to worry about, he assured Kane. All was normal.

  The contractions continued fairly regularly until five o’clock in the morning when the time between pains changed with some rapidity. Now it seemed to Sophy that one contraction hadn’t ended before another began.

  At this point, Dr Palmer tried to send Kane out of the room, telling him he would be better served waiting downstairs. Kane’s reply to the good doctor was not repeatable, and as Sophy was gripping her husband’s hand for dear life, the doctor didn’t argue further. He muttered something about never having had a husband present at a birth in all his days as a physician, but no one was listening.

  Bridget was holding Sophy’s other hand and proved a tower of strength, as did Harriet who had also come to help, along with Sadie, once Ralph had returned.

  The first baby was born at seven o’clock. It was a strong-limbed male child who yelled for all he was worth and caused his mother to smile when she heard him. A good weight for a twin at six and a half pounds, Bridget had just cleaned his face and wrapped him in a warm blanket and placed him in the crib waiting by the fire, when his brother made his appearance into the world. At just under six pounds his cry was no less lusty. Kane, the tears running down his face, showed him to Sophy before handing the baby to Harriet who began to do what Bridget had done.

  ‘By, lass, they’re bonny.’ Bridget was bending over an exhausted Sophy, gently wiping her face with a warm flannel. ‘You rest now, you deserve it. I’ll bring them to you in a minute.’

  ‘They’re beautiful, my love.’ Kane had come to the bedhead, and now he bent and kissed her. ‘Our two sons, sweetheart – can you believe it?’

  Sophy had been about to say yes, she could believe it after what she had just been through, when a familiar pain made her groan.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Kane looked to Dr Palmer. ‘Is this normal?’

  ‘After-pains, Mr Gregory.’ And then the doctor’s face changed as Sophy let out another long groan and pushed with all her might. ‘Good grief, I do believe there’s another one.’

  There was another one – a little girl, smaller than her two brothers but still able to make her presence known as she cried loudly, her tiny wrinkled prune of a face screwed up in protest at being expelled from her nice warm place beside her siblings. Pandemonium reined for a few moments, but once the cord was cut, Bridget wrapped the baby in a blanket and placed her in her mother’s outstretched arms. ‘Is she all right?’ Sophy whispered dazedly to the doctor.

  ‘She’s quite wonderful.’ He was clearly as surprised as they were. ‘She’ll need to be kept very warm for a few weeks and fed more often than the boys, but she’s breathing well and there’s nothing to worry about, nothing at all. She must have been lying behind the other two. Triplets. Good grief. This is a first for me.’

  ‘And me,’ said Sophy with a weak giggle.

  Bridget looked at her and then began to laugh, and Harriet and Sadie who had been too shocked to say a word, grinned at each other. Even Dr Palmer, in between saying several times, ‘Triplets. Good grief. Triplets,’ was chuckling. It was only Kane who was quiet, but the look on his face as he gazed down wonderingly at her and his baby daughter made Sophy reach out her hand to him.

  ‘We’ll need another crib,’ she murmured, smiling.

  ‘She can have anything she needs,’ he said huskily. ‘Anything at all. She’s exquisite, like you.’

  After a minute or two Dr Palmer checked Sophy and the babies over and then went downstairs with Sadie who had offered him bacon and eggs and a warm drink before he left. Harriet changed the bed while Bridget helped Sophy wash and put on a clean nightdress, and then they too left the room so Sophy and Kane could have some time together.

  Kane opened the curtains as Sophy sat back against the pillows, her daughter cradled in her arms. It was eight o’clock on a cold winter’s morning and dawn was breaking, the mother-of-pearl sky streaked with charcoal and rivulets of pink, and the fresh white world beneath quiet and still after the storm of the night before.

  Kane brought his sons over to the bed, little cocoons in the crook of each arm, and the proud parents examined their children’s minute faces. They were the most beautiful things Sophy had ever seen. The boys were identical and ridiculously like their father, her daughter tinier, more feminine.

  This was what she had been waiting for all her life. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the little downy foreheads, the small snub noses, the tiny mouths and chins. They were hers, her family, hers and Kane’s. She felt a truth being pressed upon her from somewhere outside herself, and as she did so the root of aloneness, the feeling of being on the outside looking in, of not belonging, melted away. She knew who she was, she recognised these little people, she had known them from the beginning of time and loved them for as long.

  She glanced again at the window. Dawn had broken. It was a new day.