by Kitty Neale
‘What does that mean?’ Tom asked Phyllis when the doctor walked away.
‘It means it could be hours and hours before the baby is born.’
‘So we could be here for a long time,’ Jeremy said.
Tom shook his head. ‘There’s no need for you to stay, Jeremy. I’ll ring you and Mum, when there’s any news.’
‘All right,’ Jeremy reluctantly agreed, though inside his guts were churning. He should be there. Amy was going to have his baby, yet Tom would be named as the father.
Amy was glad to have her mum there, but it was mostly Tom who sat by her side. As the hours passed, the pain increased to an intensity that had her yelling out, begging for it to stop. The doctor and nurses came in on regular occasions, listened to the baby’s heartbeat and examined her, but they had just left when Amy felt something change. ‘Tommy, quick, I think the baby’s coming! Go and get the doctor!’
He dashed outside, soon returning, and as Amy felt another urge to push the nurse said, ‘Mr Frost, you’ll have to wait outside.’
‘But I don’t want to leave her.’
‘Tommy, just go!’ Amy cried, straining through clenched teeth.
Tommy reluctantly left, and Amy gave in to the urge that was impossible to ignore. The doctor’s instructions came through a haze of pain as she pushed, and then again, grunting, yelling, until at last, with one final push, her baby was born.
Amy heard small cries, and then the doctor said, ‘Well done. You have a baby boy.’
Amy sank back, her body and hair wet with perspiration, but shortly after that her baby was placed into her arms. She took one look at him, and all her fears dissipated as her heart swelled with love.
All too soon, the nurse said, ‘I’ll just clean you up a bit and then your husband can come in.’
The baby was taken from her, but it wasn’t too long before he was back in her arms and Tommy was walking into the room. He moved to the side of the bed, gazing at the baby, and Amy saw tears of emotion form in his eyes. ‘My son,’ he choked.
Amy fought tears too; tears of guilt, but as she held the baby up for Tommy to hold, she could see the love in his eyes – love for both of them.
Tommy looked so happy, so overwhelmed with joy as he looked down at the baby, and Amy knew she’d rather live with the agony of her lies than take that away from him.
Chapter Forty-Four
Phyllis was overwhelmed by her new grandson. Amy and Tom had chosen the name Robert, and though he’d arrived early he’d been a good weight and was thriving. Stan was over the moon too, and he’d taken to popping round to Amy’s to see the baby the minute he arrived home from work.
Phyllis knew she was just as bad, but Bobby, as he was mostly called, was so adorable that she couldn’t keep away. January turned to late February, and one Thursday, after work, Mabel collared her as she passed her door.
‘Come in, Phyllis. I’ve got a bit of news.’
‘All right, but I can’t stay long.’
As she stepped inside, Mabel swiftly closed the door against the cold and said, ‘I’m taking on another foster child on Monday.’
‘Oh, that’s good,’ Phyllis said. She knew how hard it had been for Mabel and Jack to part with Peter. It had knocked them for six and she’d doubted they would put themselves through that again. Now though she’d been proved wrong, and Mabel looked happy at the prospect of having another child to care for.
‘It’s a girl this time, called Sandra, and she’s nearly five years old. She’s got a club foot and the poor kid’s been in care for years with no sign of anyone wanting to adopt her.’
‘Would you consider adoption?’
Mabel bit on her lower lip in thought and then said, ‘I grew really fond of Peter, and if the same thing happens with Sandra, do you know, I just might.’
Phyllis suspected it would happen and they talked about it for a few more minutes before she was able to get away. She then went straight to Amy’s, saying as she went in, ‘How’s my grandson?’
‘He’s fine, but I’m not so sure about Tommy. He didn’t look too well this morning, but he still went to work.’
‘Let’s hope it isn’t anything to worry about,’ Phyllis said. Bobby was asleep, one little fist tucked under his chin, and with his thick head of dark hair, he looked adorable. He had brought so much joy into their lives, and she would be forever grateful that thanks to Rose, both her daughter and grandson were living so close to her that she could see them every day.
‘You look a bit rough,’ Jeremy said to Tom when he returned to the unit after seeing a building contractor.
‘I wasn’t so bad this morning, but it’s getting worse now. How did you get on with the contractor?’
‘If we can get the quote down by three per cent, I think it’s in the bag.’
‘All right, we’ll go through the figures again to see if it’s possible,’ Tom said, but then he started coughing and was left gasping for breath.
‘You should go home.’
‘I think I might have to,’ Tom said after using his inhaler. ‘I just hope my boy hasn’t inherited my asthma and weak chest.’
‘I doubt that’s likely,’ Jeremy said, quickly covering the remark by adding, ‘From what I’ve seen, Robert’s going to be a proper bruiser.’
Tom smiled proudly. ‘Yes, he’s great isn’t he, but I see Mum’s still got you calling him Robert.’
‘She thinks Bobby sounds common.’
‘I like it,’ Tommy said. ‘It suits him and I can’t tell you how amazing it is to be a father.’
Jeremy knew what it was like. From the moment he’d first held Robert the bond had been instantaneous and it had taken all his willpower not to shout that this was his son – not Tom’s. Somehow he had managed to remain silent, but now every time Tom talked about his boy, or bragged about being a father, it ate at him, gnawed at his guts, until he could barely look at his brother without hatred in his eyes.
Tom was coughing again and then said croakily, ‘It’s four o’clock so I think I’ll knock off early. If I’m not up to it tomorrow, you and Len can go over that quote again.’
‘I’ll pop down in the morning to see how you are,’ Jeremy said, thinking it was the perfect excuse to see Robert again and of course Amy. The more he saw of them both, the more he wanted them, but knew his brother would always stand in his way.
Amy was thinking back to her chat with Carol on Monday. With a baby now and the hassle of getting a bus to Chelsea, Carol had agreed to meet in a café on Lavender Hill. Carol had arrived grinning like a Cheshire cat and after making a big fuss of Bobby, she had held out her left hand to show Amy her engagement ring.
Amy smiled at the memory, thrilled for her friend, but then the door opened and Tommy arrived home early from work. ‘Oh, Tommy, you look awful,’ Amy said as she stood up.
‘My chest is bad again.’
‘Why don’t you go to the surgery and get the doctor to take a look at you?’
‘I’ve already been to the surgery, poked my head into the waiting room, but it was packed. I didn’t feel up to hanging around.’
‘In that case I think you should go straight to bed and if you’re no better in the morning I’ll get the doctor to call in to take a look at you.’
‘Yes, all right,’ he agreed, just as Bobby began to cry.
‘He’s hungry,’ Amy said, picking him up. She was breast-feeding and Bobby still woke in the night, but mostly he was a contented baby.
Tommy walked over and fondly stroked the baby’s head, but then he moved away quickly as he began to cough, saying when he managed to catch his breath, ‘It’s been ages since my chest was as bad as this.’
Amy felt a frisson of fear as she recalled how ill Tommy had been with pneumonia. Bobby was wailing in earnest now and she urged, ‘Go to bed, Tommy. I’ll feed him and then instead of waiting till tomorrow morning, I’ll ring the doctor to see if he’ll call in when he’s finished with his patients.’
Tommy
didn’t argue, which made Amy more anxious, and as Tommy went upstairs she sat down, unbuttoned her blouse, and as Bobby latched on, for the first time she waited impatiently for him to finish his feed.
Stan went to see his grandson shortly after arriving home from work, to find Amy with Robert in her arms and looking harassed as she let him in. ‘What’s up, love?’
‘Tommy’s ill. I rang the doctor ages ago but he hasn’t turned up yet.’
‘Calm down, he’s sure to arrive soon,’ Stan assured.
‘I hope so, Dad,’ she said, handing the baby to him. ‘You can keep an eye on Bobby while I go up to check on Tommy.’
Stan was happy to do just that as he limped over to sit down by the fire, cradling his grandson in his arms. He was a little cracker and as he’d always wanted a son, Stan felt this was the next best thing. He gently stroked the baby’s cheek, and though there was a way to go yet, he was looking forward to the time when Bobby could walk and talk.
There was the sound of a car drawing up outside, and Amy must have heard it too as she flew downstairs to open the door. ‘Good evening, Mrs Frost,’ the doctor said, nodding a greeting to Stan as he walked inside.
‘My husband’s chest is bad again,’ Amy told him, ushering the doctor up to see Tommy.
Stan looked into the flickering flames of the fire, finding his mind drifting back to the past. There had been a time when he hadn’t been happy about Amy courting Tommy – when he’d thought that with his weak chest and time off work, he’d never be able to support a wife. He’d been wrong about that. Tommy had made a great success of his father’s business and even Celia, old frosty knickers, hadn’t turned out to be too much of a problem. He still didn’t think much of Celia though, and he knew Amy sometimes found her a bit of a trial, but on the whole, his daughter’s future looked rosy.
For a moment he thought about George Frost, and wondered where he was. Did he know that he was a grandfather too? Somehow Stan doubted it, because if George had found out, surely he’d have turned up by now.
Jeremy didn’t arrive home until six thirty that evening, and as soon as he told her that Tommy wasn’t well, Celia went to see for herself. ‘Why didn’t you ring me?’ she complained as Amy let her in.
‘I thought I’d wait until the doctor had seen Tommy and I was just about to call you.’
‘I see,’ Celia said, doubting it was true, ‘and what did the doctor say?’
‘That Tommy’s chest is very congested. He gave him two antibiotic pills immediately and a prescription for me to get in the morning.’
‘I’ll go up to see him,’ Celia said.
‘He’s asleep so I’d rather you didn’t wake him.’
‘I won’t do that,’ she said impatiently. ‘I’ll just look in, but have you made sure that he’s propped up?’
‘Yes, of course, and you’ll see that for yourself.’
‘I should hope so,’ she replied tersely, and upstairs she found that Thomas was indeed asleep, with pillows piled up behind him. At least Amy had learned something, Celia thought, before going down to the living room where she immediately went to look at her grandson.
Robert was asleep too, but it didn’t stop Celia from picking him up. ‘He looks so much like Thomas when he was a baby and I can see Jeremy in his features too.’
There was no reply and Celia glanced up to see that Amy looked a little flushed. ‘I hope you’re not annoyed that I picked Robert up. I haven’t woken him.’
‘No, it’s fine.’
Celia sighed and gently placed Robert down again. ‘I should go. Jeremy will want his dinner. I have a ten o’clock appointment with a chiropodist in the morning, but I’ll ring to see how Thomas is before I leave.’
Amy just nodded, and Celia hurried out, thinking that to see her grandson she had to make an effort with her daughter-in-law, yet still wishing that Thomas had found a girl of finer breeding to marry.
Amy was glad to close the door on Celia. She too had seen the resemblance to Jeremy in her son’s features and dreaded they would always serve as a reminder of his conception. She hated it when Jeremy came to see them, though thankfully he always came in the evenings so they were never alone. If he held Bobby she always wanted to snatch him back, and she hated the way Jeremy surreptitiously looked at her. That wasn’t all she had noticed. She had seen the resentment in Jeremy’s eyes when Tommy was holding Bobby, sometimes a dark anger, and it frightened her.
‘Amy!’
Tommy’s voice jerked her back to the present and she ran upstairs. ‘I’m here,’ she said as she went into their bedroom.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m thirsty. Can I have a glass of water?’
‘Of course,’ she said, going to his bedside table and pouring a glass of water from the jug.
‘Oh sorry,’ he apologised again. ‘I didn’t realise it was there.’
Amy saw that his eyes looked a bit glazed and his forehead was hot to the touch. So far the antibiotics weren’t having any effect, but he managed to take the glass and after drinking, his eyes seemed to clear.
‘Thanks,’ he said, handing it back. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘Only for about an hour, but while you were your mum called in to see you. She’ll be back in the morning.’
Tommy nodded, and laid his head back while Amy asked, ‘Can I get you anything to eat?’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘What about something light, if only a boiled egg?’
‘No thanks,’ he said, coughing, and breathless before he managed to speak again. ‘I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea though.’
‘Coming up,’ Amy said, but after going downstairs to make it, she returned to find that Tommy had fallen asleep again.
What followed was a restless night, Tommy waking, coughing, and Bobby waking twice in the night too. Amy snatched what sleep she could, praying that in the morning, Tommy wouldn’t be any worse.
Chapter Forty-Five
Phyllis woke on Friday morning to find that Stan had his arms wrapped around her, and contented, she let her mind drift as she savoured the warmth of their close contact. She hoped that Tommy wasn’t any worse that morning. With him being ill and a baby to look after, Amy had a lot on her plate, and at that thought, Phyllis decided to ring Rose to ask for the day off. She knew that her cousin wouldn’t mind, and still thanked her lucky stars for the day that Rose had offered her the job. There had been a time when money was so tight that she’d half starved herself to make the food go round, but nowadays she hardly ever had to watch the pennies. In fact, Phyllis thought, she’d never been so well off – or so happy.
There was a snort and a grunt as Stan woke up, his arms tightening around her. Stan was ready for a bit of loving that morning and Phyllis was happy to oblige, so it was another half an hour before she got up to wash and dress before going downstairs to prepare his breakfast.
When he too came downstairs, Phyllis was ready to place a plate of eggs, bacon and fried bread in front of him. He licked his lips, grinned and said, ‘Now that looks good enough to eat, but so do you. How about we go back to bed?’
‘Don’t be daft. You’ll be late for work.’
‘It’d be worth it,’ he said, winking cheekily.
‘Just eat your breakfast,’ Phyllis admonished as she poured their drinks and sat down too, happy to munch on a piece of toast. When Stan left for work she’d pop round to Amy’s and use her telephone to ring Rose. If Tommy was really rough, she’d volunteer to look after Bobby for the day, and the weekend if necessary.
Not that it was any hardship, she thought, smiling softly.
Amy awoke to the sound of someone knocking on the door. She looked quickly at Tommy, then Robert in his cot, saw that they were both still asleep, so quickly put on her dressing gown and hurried downstairs.
‘Now there’s a sight,’ Jeremy commented when she opened it. ‘I must have got you out of bed.’
‘What do you want?’ Amy asked bluntly.
‘I’m
on my way to the unit, but I thought I’d pop in to see how Tommy is.’
‘He had a restless night and he’s still asleep,’ she said, but then heard Robert crying.
Jeremy must have heard him too because he pushed the door wider to step inside and Amy was fuming when he followed her upstairs. She picked Robert up to soothe him and saw that Tommy was waking up too.
‘Hello, mate, how are you?’ Jeremy asked him.
Tommy blinked and looked a bit confused to see his brother in the room, but then he began to cough again and it was Jeremy who moved forward to prop him up. ‘That’s it, Tom. Get it up.’
‘Thanks,’ Tommy gasped.
‘I called in to see how you are, and you’re certainly not fit for work today.’
‘No, sorry, I’m not, but hopefully I’ll be back on my feet soon.’
‘Don’t worry, Tom, until you are we can manage fine without you,’ Jeremy said.
Robert was wailing again and Amy knew that he was hungry as well as needing a nappy change, but Tommy said, ‘I need a drink of water.’
‘It’s all right, Amy. I’ll see to Tom while you sort the nipper out,’ Jeremy said.
Amy nodded, took Robert downstairs where she changed his nappy and then sat down to feed him. A few minutes later she heard footsteps on the stairs and quickly covered herself, flushing when Jeremy came near to look down on them. She hated his close proximity and hissed, ‘I think you should leave now.’
‘Tom wants a cup of tea and as you’re a bit busy, I’ll make it,’ he said, his voice then lowering as he added, ‘I also thought I’d take a look at my son.’
‘He isn’t yours! He’s Tommy’s,’ Amy said, quietly yet forcefully.
‘You know that isn’t true,’ Jeremy said, crouching down in front of her. ‘I’m playing the role of his uncle, but I’m much more than that.’
‘You are his uncle,’ Amy insisted, though she couldn’t meet Jeremy’s eyes.
‘You can deny it all you like, but it won’t stop me loving my son. Or you.’
