by June Tate
Within minutes, a doctor arrived with a nurse. He examined her carefully and, looking at the nurse, said, ‘We need to get her to the hospital now!’ He picked Hildy up in his arms, put her gently in the back seat of the car with the nurse beside her and drove swiftly to the camp hospital, where she was put into a bed and undressed. Milt was summoned quickly.
He was outside the ward, walking up and down, waiting for someone to tell him what was going on. He’d been told his wife had been taken into hospital, but that was all. However, there had been something in the voice of the caller that worried him.
Eventually a doctor came to see him.
‘Sergeant, we have examined your wife and we think the baby is in trouble, so we need to give your wife an emergency caesarean section and she’s being prepped for surgery now.’
‘Can I see her?’
‘Yes, for a moment. Try and calm her if you can, she’s worried naturally.’
Milt was taken into the ward as Hildy was about to be wheeled to the theatre, he walked beside the trolley, holding her hand.
‘Take a deep breath, darling, and relax. Everything’s going to be just fine.’
‘What about the baby, Milt?’
‘Baby’s fine too, just enjoying a bit of drama, so it’s bound to be a female. I’ll be here waiting for you. I’m not leaving this building, you hear?’
She gave a wan smile. ‘I hear.’
He watched as they took Hildy into the theatre. A nurse told Milt to go to the waiting room. ‘We’ll come and see you after the operation, Sergeant. Your wife’s in good hands, I promise.’
Milt went through all kinds of hell as he waited. He’d been in war zones, seen men killed and had never been as scared as he was right then. His thoughts were driving him crazy. If anything happened to Hildy or the baby, he didn’t know what he’d do. He’d brought her away from friends and her homeland and now – was she in danger? Were they going to lose the baby? He walked up and down, unable to settle. He chewed gum until his jaws ached.
Eventually, to Milt it felt a lifetime, the doctor emerged from the theatre and came over to him. ‘Congratulations, you have a daughter,’ he said.
‘My wife?’
‘She’s fine. She’ll be a bit sore for a while, but she’s okay.’
‘The baby?’ Milt asked.
‘Your child had the cord twisted around her neck, that was the trouble; we’ve put her in an incubator and are monitoring her all the time, but her chances are good. She’s just had a hard time making it into the world.’
The relief flooded through Milt and he felt sick. The doctor went to the water cooler, filled a cup and handed it to him.
‘Here, Sergeant, drink this and sit for a moment, I don’t want another member of the family collapsing on me.’
Milt thanked him and downed the water in one go. ‘I didn’t realise that childbirth could be quite so dramatic!’
The surgeon laughed. ‘Fortunately normally it isn’t. I know, I’ve four children.’
‘I’m not at all sure I can put my wife – or me for that matter – through this again.’
Putting a hand on his shoulder, the surgeon said, ‘Don’t let this put you off, an only child is a lonely child. I know: I was one. We’ll let you know when your wife is back in the ward and you can sit with her. She’s still under the anaesthetic, so she won’t be awake for some time, but we can take you to see your daughter.’
‘Oh thanks, that would be great.’
‘She has some breathing apparatus helping her at the moment, but in time she’ll be breathing on her own.’
Milt was taken into a room and led over to a small incubator with a nurse attending. She smiled at Milt.
‘Come and meet your daughter, Sergeant Miller.’
He looked down at the tiny figure through tears as he saw the breathing apparatus in her mouth. She looked so small and vulnerable. He looked at the nurse.
‘Is she going to make it?’
‘Oh yes, she will, we just have to hope that with a little care and attention she’ll not suffer any problems with her breathing in the future. We’ll know pretty soon. She looks a fighter to me, Sergeant, so try not to worry.’
Another nurse came in. ‘Your wife is back in her ward, Sergeant Miller, if you want to join her.’
He took one last lingering look at his daughter and then went to find Hildy.
Sitting beside the bed, he gazed at the sleeping figure of his wife, saw the paleness of her skin, the dark circles under her eyes and he wanted to weep. Taking her hand, he kissed it.
‘Oh honey, I didn’t want to put you through this,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve been to see our little girl and she’s beautiful. Don’t you worry now, she’ll be fine.’ He paused, wanting to say so much more, but to find the words was difficult as he was so overcome with emotion.
‘I love you so much, Hildy. I am so lucky that we met and now we have a child. How amazing is that! You scared the hell out of me, honey, and I’m not sure I’ll ever recover, so don’t you dare do it again, you hear me?’
Her eyes flickered. ‘Milt?’
He stood up and, leaning over her, he kissed her cheek. ‘I’m here, honey, and I ain’t going nowhere.’
He felt her gently squeeze his hand and saw her smile softly, then with a sigh, she slept.
A nurse came into the room, took Hildy’s temperature, checked her pulse and looking at Milt said, ‘She’s fine Sergeant, she’s sleeping off the anaesthetic, she’ll wake in her own time. Can I get you a coffee? You look as if you could do with one.’
‘Thanks, that is a great idea.’
Milt sat beside the bed until eventually Hildy came to. She was still a little woozy but she smiled at him. ‘Hello,’ she said.
‘Hello honey. Gee, I’m so pleased to see you awake.’
She frowned. ‘The baby?’
‘She’s doing just fine, I’ve seen her and she’s perfect. She’s in an incubator at the moment, but not for long. The cord was round her neck, so they’re just taking precautions, making sure she’s okay.’
At that moment the surgeon walked into the room. ‘Ah I see you’re awake, Mrs Miller. Now you’re not to worry about your daughter, she’s in good hands. Tomorrow, we’ll put you in a wheelchair and you can see for yourself.’ He smiled at Milt and left them alone.
Eventually the nurse sent Milt home.
‘You look worse than the mother,’ she chided. ‘Go and get something to eat and go to bed. Both your women will be fine, you can come back tomorrow afternoon.’
He drove back to the house, poured himself a stiff measure of bourbon and drank it. He searched in the fridge for something to make a sandwich, as he realised he was hungry. In his mind was a picture of his newborn child in an incubator with the breathing apparatus and he felt the tears wet his cheeks. Lighting a cigarette, he left the house and walked around the perimeter of the camp until he felt calmer and in control, before he went home.
News spread among the men of the new arrival and Milt was congratulated and teased all the morning and by the time he left to visit the hospital in the afternoon, he was loaded down with flowers, fruit and magazines sent along by the wives.
To his surprise, Hildy was sitting in the chair beside her bed.
‘Well, honey, that looks a good move. Are you alright?’
She grimaced. ‘They got me out of bed this morning,’ she said, ‘and I walked a little, it is uncomfortable but when they take out the stitches, I’ll be fine.’
At that moment a nurse arrived with a wheelchair. ‘Come along, Mrs Miller, we are going to see your baby.’ She helped Hildy into the chair and wheeled her to the room where the baby was. Hildy peered into the incubator.
‘Oh Milt, she looks so frail!’
He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘She’s going to be fine, honey.’
The nurse walked round and opened a section of the incubator. ‘Here, hold her hand.’ Then she left them alone.
Hidly took the sma
ll fist in hers and stroked it, cooing and talking softly.
‘Hello little one, I’m your mother and your dad is here too. You are so beautiful and I can’t wait to hold you. You get better soon so we can all be together.’
The nurse returned. ‘She’ll be fine, don’t you worry. We have to get you fit enough to cope with a new baby too, so let’s go back to your room and put you back in bed.’
When she was settled, Milt handed over all the goodies and flowers that he’d been given. Hildy was overcome with such kindness and said so.
‘Well, darling, the base is a kind of family – we all help each other.’
‘It was like that back home in the Blitz. It’s amazing how people pull together.’
‘Now, of course,’ said Milt, ‘we have to choose a name for the baby. Any ideas?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I would like to call her Hope. Don’t ask me why, I just like the name and we have such hopes for her future. What do you think?’
‘Hope Miller … yes, I like it.’ He chuckled. ‘I was warned by my men who were fathers that choosing a name caused so many arguments with their wives, but look at us. Wait ’til I tell them, they won’t believe it!’
‘Next time you come in, will you bring me two airmail letters so I can write to the girls and tell them the news?’
‘Of course. I wonder how they’re getting on.’
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It was mid December and the Isle of Wight was now devoid of all visitors, which was always appreciated by the locals. Visitors were essential for business through the summer and autumn, but afterwards, everybody could breathe and enjoy the island for themselves.
Belle took the opportunity to buy a few new pieces of furniture to replace the old, washed the light summer curtains ready for next season, checked all the bed linen and washed the blankets with Cora’s help.
By now, Cora had told her friend of her engagement to Simon – now a sergeant – and they had a celebration of their own with a bottle of champagne. But Belle still was adamant that she wasn’t going to marry Tom. Despite the fact that now no one spoke about the court case and her past. As Tom had predicted, it was old news and forgotten. He didn’t press her but she knew he was disappointed.
They spent time together and every weekend he stayed with her, arriving on Saturday night. When the Sunday papers were delivered, they made breakfast and took their food and papers back to bed and read them. Then they would make love, have a bath, get dressed and go out to lunch later, at whichever restaurant they fancied. It was a cosy and happy existence.
Folk knew of their relationship and were used to seeing them together, wondering if ever they would make it permanent. That was the only gossip in Shanklin these days.
Simon wanted Cora to spend Christmas with him and meet his family. She was dreading it. By now she was wearing his ring, but hadn’t met her future in-laws yet.
‘What if they don’t like me, Belle?’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake, why on earth wouldn’t they? Anyway, you’re not marrying them and, thank God, they don’t live locally so you won’t have ma-in-law on your doorstep. Anyway, you’re not getting married until the spring, so you’ve still got time to get to know them.’
‘That’s another thing,’ Cora said frowning. ‘They expect to have a big wedding when Simon gets married and I definitely do not want that!’
‘Does Simon know how you feel?’
‘Yes and he’s fine about it, but I think this visit could be difficult if the situation is mentioned.’
‘Right!’ Belle stared at her friend. ‘This is what I suggest, but feel free to say no. I will take the place of your parents. You can marry in the local church here, invite a few friends, limit how many they can ask and come back here for the reception. How does that sound?’
‘That sounds absolutely marvellous! I don’t have many friends to ask. Sadly Hildy can’t come. All I want is the folk who are important to me, that’s what a wedding should be about, not masses of people.’
‘Then I suggest you put this to Simon before you go away. He’ll back you up, I’m sure. Are you seeing him this weekend?’
‘Yes, I’m going over on Friday night, coming back on Monday. I’ll have a word then.’
Cora took an afternoon ferry and did some shopping in Southampton before meeting Simon at his flat. They had planned to go to the cinema, but it was raining hard so they decided to stay in. They bought fish and chips to save cooking and whilst they ate, Cora brought up the subject of the wedding and Belle’s plan.
‘That’s extremely generous of her,’ Simon said when he heard the news. ‘She’s a good friend, you’re lucky to know her.’
‘Yes, I am but what do you think, will your parents go along with it?’
He gazed at her with affection. ‘Darling, it’s your day; you must do as you wish.’
‘Well, it does mean that your parents will have to stay over on the island and any guests they may ask. That may cause a few problems.’ She looked uncertain.
‘Then they will have to make a decision, they come or they don’t.’ He put his arm round her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. As long as we get married that’s all that matters.’
But as they went to bed, Cora was still fretting.
The following week the girls each received a letter from Hildy with the news of Hope’s birth and the difficulties that she’d encountered, but the news was good; the baby was breathing on her own and they hoped to bring her home in a week’s time.
‘Poor Hildy and Milt, what a worry. But thank God it’s all worked out in the end,’ Belle said as she put the letter down. ‘It’s times like that that you need your family and she doesn’t have anyone but us and we’re too far away to be of any use.’
‘She said as much in my letter,’ Cora said. ‘She really wished we were there, she felt quite homesick in the hospital; but she’s fine now she’s home with Milt. She says he’s a good man and is looking after her really well.’
‘She made a good choice, thank heavens. I wonder how her bitch of a mother is? She’s a stupid, selfish woman, who didn’t appreciate what a good daughter she had.’
‘Well, they say you reap what you sow,’ Cora murmured, wondering what kind of harvest she would have over Christmas.
It had been difficult wondering what gifts to take to Simon’s parents. Cora had saved her sweet ration to buy a box of chocolates for Mrs Pritchard and after Simon said his father liked the odd cigar, she’d bought three, which were encased in silver containers and made them look a bit special. She’d bought Simon a watch, knowing the one he wore was old. Rationing made life very difficult at such times. She’d used some of her clothing coupons to buy Belle a splendid silk scarf in shades of purple and lilac and some tobacco for Tom who smoked a pipe occasionally.
Simon and Cora caught a train to take them to Coulsdon in Surrey where the Pritchards lived. As they sat in the taxi from the station, Cora looked with interest at the mixture of modern housing and old cottages and it was in front of one of these that the taxi stopped.
Simon paid the driver, squeezed Cora’s hand and said, ‘Relax, darling, it’ll be fine.’ He picked up their cases and walked towards the door, which was opened before he got there.
A woman with brown hair, greying at the sides, walked towards them. She was neatly dressed in a pale grey twinset and pearls. She hugged her son and stretched out her hand to Cora and kissed her cheek.
‘How nice to meet you at last, come inside into the warmth. Arthur is putting the kettle on.’
They walked straight into a cosy living room with an open fire that was burning brightly, with a pile of logs beside it. Christmas decorations were hung across the ceiling and in the corner a Christmas tree, with fairy lights and glittering baubles. There were two easy chairs either side of the fire and a settee opposite. The floor was tiled with rugs scattered around. It was warm and inviting and Cora felt herself relax.
‘What a lovely room,’ she said.
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‘I’m glad you like it, my dear. Here, give me your coat – sit down and get warm.’
At that moment a tall gent walked in carrying a tray of tea and a plate of home-made biscuits. He smiled at Cora.
‘Hello, sorry, can’t shake hands at the moment but I’m sure after your journey you could do with a cuppa.’
‘Thank you, that’s very welcome, it’s chilly out.’
Cora listened as the family caught up with their son’s news. They were thrilled he’d got his sergeant’s stripes, then there was various news of other family members and Cora began to wonder just how many of them there were. It was now making her very nervous as her allocation for their guests was not a long one.
Eventually the conversation turned to the wedding in the spring.
Mary Pritchard turned to Cora. ‘Such an exciting time for a girl,’ she said. ‘I remember mine. I had four bridesmaids and a pageboy. It was before the war, of course, so food was not a problem. We had a lovely reception at the Grange Hotel. Fortunately they had a large dining room.’
Cora’s heart sank. ‘Well, things are very different now; our wedding will be very quiet in comparison. We’re getting married in Shanklin and my dearest friend, Belle Newman, is giving the reception in her house.’
Mary frowned. ‘Is that the lady you live and work with in the B&B?’
‘Yes, that’s right. With extra tables in the dining room for the occasion we can accommodate about twenty people at a push.’ She saw Mary frown and added, ‘You see, I have no family, my parents were both killed in the Blitz and I’m an only child.’
‘Oh my dear, I’m so sorry. However did you manage on your own?’
