The pain was still griping on, but worse was the emotional pain – the devastating sense of loss.
‘Yes, a bit. The blood’s heavy. It must have been going on for about half an hour or so now.’
‘Okay, we need to get you to see a doctor, Ellie. You’re looking really pale. We need to know what’s going on. Get some help.’
‘It’s a Sunday,’ she replied. ‘The doctor’s will be closed.’ She’d been thinking of options whilst she sat there, wondering if there was any way the baby could be saved. If this might all be a false alarm, the baby was still there, and it could work out okay in the end.
‘Hmm, it’ll have to be A & E then. Do you think you’re okay to move? I really think we should get you seen to. Check things out.’
‘Maybe.’ She still felt a bit weak, but with Joe around, she could try and get up. Then she realized she’d be in a bit of a mess, would need a sanitary towel. ‘Look, give me a minute. I just need to sort myself out a bit.’
‘Sure you’ll be okay?’
She nodded.
‘I’ll just be outside the door.’
‘Thanks.’
He came back in, a few minutes later. ‘Right then, let’s get you to hospital, my love.’
20
Eight thirty on a Sunday night, and everything felt out of kilter. They should be at home, in their apartment, snuggled up on the sofa watching Poldark or something. Instead, they were waiting their turn, sipping cool, milky tea from polystyrene cups, sat on hard plastic chairs in the A&E department of Cramlington Hospital. The waiting area was all shiny and new, having only been opened a few months ago. Along their row sat an elderly couple, the husband coughing and coughing; it wasn’t his fault, but it was beginning to make Ellie feel sick. Just opposite was a boy of about ten sat with his mum, trying to hold back sobs. She’d had to carry him in; Ellie had heard her explaining his football injury, possible broken ankle at the reception desk. And a baby had been rushed in with a high temperature and a rash just before, and been allowed to go straight through. That had made Ellie’s heart ache even more, for them, for her.
All these broken lives, illness, gathered in one place. It was a pretty long wait; they’d been over an hour so far, but she had to admire the nurses and doctors who dealt with all this day in, day out.
‘You okay?’
‘Might need to go to the loo again in a minute.’ The flow was still quite heavy, and painful. She’d wondered about taking some paracetamol that happened to be in her handbag, but then, if there was any chance the baby was still viable, she shouldn’t be taking any tablets.
‘Mrs Ward?’ A young nurse, in blue uniform, came out from the double doors. She was holding a clipboard.
‘Yes, here.’ Joe stood up first. Ellie more slowly.
They were taken through the swing doors and into a side room, where the nurse, who introduced herself as Rachel, asked Ellie to describe her symptoms. She then did some initial observations on Ellie, and took a blood test, and said the doctor would be along shortly.
The lights were too bright. Smells, clean and clinical, hushed voices. Soft padding of shoes, and a slight squeak as they gripped the disinfected flooring. Joe took her hand as they waited. Neither of them knowing quite what to say for now. The doctor was a tall woman with greyish-blonde hair, who looked in her forties. Ellie wondered if she had children at all; if she knew what this was like. They discussed her symptoms again, Ellie mentioning her positive pregnancy test a few weeks ago, the doctor nodding seriously, then checking the observation details on Ellie’s chart.
‘Ellie, I’m sorry to say, it does appear that you are undergoing a miscarriage …’ The doctor’s voice continued kindly, but Ellie was finding it hard to concentrate.
‘Oh.’ Ellie was trying hard to take it all in, but it was all a mix of words and terms, and there didn’t seem to be anything the doctors could do other than let nature take its course. She and Joe were advised to go home, get some rest, and call back down to the hospital the next morning for a scan. It all seemed a world away from their joy and excitement at the top of that hill just two weeks ago.
They drove back mostly in silence. Ellie felt so tired. She had no words left. Closed her eyes for a while.
Joe concentrated on driving.
They had just turned off the A1, nearing the hills and valleys of home.
‘Joe, what if it was me? What if I did too much? I’m always dashing about in the teashop. And now, getting ready for the Craft Fayre. I hardly stop, and I spent ages cleaning the kitchens this afternoon. I didn’t have to do it all at once … Do you think it could be my fault?’
‘Don’t go blaming yourself, Ellie. Didn’t the nurse say earlier, that if a miscarriage was going to happen there was very little you could do to cause or stop it?’
‘Maybe.’ There had been so much to listen to. ‘But what if …’
‘Don’t go there, Ellie. Don’t put yourself though any more. We’ll get through this, and we’ll find out tomorrow what next, okay?’
‘Okay.’
They parked up, walked in. Same castle, same walls, same courtyard, yet everything felt so very different – a little emptier. Back in the apartment she decided to have bath. Let herself soak in some warm bubbles, it’d ease her back pain that was still nagging.
Five minutes later, Joe knocked, ‘You okay in there?’
She hadn’t locked the door, just in case. ‘Yeah, I’m all right.’ The words flowed reassuringly, whilst emotionally she felt a bit of a wreck.
‘Just shout if you need me.’
‘Will do, I’m fine. Thank you.’
She towel dried, and wrapped herself up in her fleece robe. She felt a little calmer now. She snuggled up, next to Joe, on the sofa. His arm around her was just what she needed right now. But she still felt so very empty. Nestled together, he stroked her hair, as she let her head rest against his chest. She sighed softly against him, feeling the weight of her grief, their grief.
It was a weird sense of loss. As such, they’d had nothing to show for it, just hopes and dreams and the knowledge of new life that had already been taken away, but already in her mind it had been her child.
Three-ten a.m., Ellie stood looking out a silver-white moon, through the latticed windows of their apartment lounge. She could see craters and scars on its bright creamy surface. The night sky so dark beyond it. A whisper of cloud here and there.
It had felt uncomfortable lying there in bed, with her thoughts and her grumbling abdomen. Joe was fast asleep, she could tell by his breathing. She hadn’t want to disturb him with her tossing and turning, so got up and made a cup of camomile-honey tea. She realized she was still hugging the mug. Tomorrow, no today now, she’d know for sure. But her body was already telling her.
She thought these thing happened to other people. Everyone had heard of miscarriage. It wasn’t that uncommon. But she hadn’t felt it, known it until now. Hadn’t known how dark and lonely it could be.
Keep positive, pet, a voice in her mind spoke up. If it is the worst, I know you can deal with it. Life knocks you sometimes, Ellie pet. But you can come back stronger. You will. And the voice sounded just like her Nanna’s.
And then she felt two arms, firm but gentle, slide around her. ‘Having trouble sleeping?’
‘Uh-huh.’
She let herself lean back against him. He would be hurting too, of course he would.
His chin rested gently against the top of her head, then she felt the brush of a kiss in her hair.
‘Feel like coming back to bed?’
‘Yeah, think that might be a good idea. It could be a long day tomorrow, too.’
‘Whatever we face, we face together, yeah.’
‘Yeah.’
21
An early start, shower, tea and toast. Ellie had drifted back to an uneasy sleep after their 3 a.m. vigil.
They were heading out to the car, 7.45 a.m., to get on their journey back down to the hospital, being out in rural No
rthumberland it would take around fifty minutes to get there. Lord Henry caught up with them in the stone-cobbled courtyard of the castle. He was still in his long, maroon velvet dressing gown that looked rather like a smoking jacket. It reminded Ellie of one of the meerkat characters on the television adverts lately. In an odd way, in the depths of her pain, that made her smile.
‘Ellen, I’m so, so sorry to hear about what’s happened,’ he said. Joe had phoned him from the hospital last night, to let him know where they were. ‘What a terrible misfortune.’
And then he held his arms open for her. Lord Henry was never one for displays of affection – a polite kiss on the cheek at Christmas or birthdays, and that was about it. She hesitated for a second, just because it was so unusual, but then accepted his embrace. His arms were solid, reassuring, fatherly. It brought a fresh tear to her eye.
‘There, there,’ he soothed, then he pulled gently away. ‘Look after her, Joe.’
‘I will, of course.’
The men nodded sombrely at each other.
It was a morning of waiting, then the scan, and the disappointing news that Ellie had in a way been expecting and dreading all at once. That was it, no more baby.
The doctor recommended non-intervention. The miscarriage appeared to be clearing everything away naturally. Ellie was advised to keep an eye on things, take it slightly easier for a week or so, but she was told everything would be back to normal soon. Well, physically at least. For now, her emotions felt like they were on a rollercoaster. And so, they were back on the road heading up the A1.
The next day, the castle support network stepped into action; Doris popped to see her with a hug and lovely scented candle, Deana brought her some gorgeous bubble bath and stayed and chatted for an hour, Irene baked her a Victoria sponge and a lemon drizzle for Joe, Malcolm and Derek surprised her with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and chocolate truffles. All of them were ready with some chat and friendly advice, or in Malcolm’s case a bit of banter which was in fact great (it was nice to think about something else completely, and to find herself smiling again, however briefly).
She appreciated that so much. They weren’t just work colleagues, they were her friends.
She received phone calls from her mum and dad, who Joe had phoned to advise of the sad news, and Gemma her best friend from the insurance office (from the years before Ellie moved up to the castle). She’d seen Ellie’s mum on the street and had heard. Gemma was married herself now, and still living down in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Also, Joe’s mam Sue rang and was so lovely and supportive, it felt like she was giving Ellie a big hug down the phone.
Everything felt a little surreal for Ellie over the next few days. Instead of announcing a lovely new baby, there were tears, and the sharing of altogether sadder news.
‘I’m thinking of coming up for a day. We could do lunch, or something.’
It was Sarah, Ellie’s mum. Sarah, wasn’t the kind of lady who ‘did lunch’. She worked hard as a cleaner at the doctor’s surgery, kept a tidy house, made good wholesome home-cooked food for her family, but was in no way extravagant with either her emotions or her hard-earned cash.
Ellie had a feeling this was her mum’s way of trying to look after her after the miscarriage. ‘Well, yes, that would be nice. When are you thinking?’
‘Tomorrow, if you’re free. Dad’s busy working, Jason will be doing his own thing, so I thought I’d pop up to see you.’
In the past five years, Mum had never come up on her own without Dad. She didn’t really like driving outside of her comfort zone of the Newcastle city streets she knew.
‘Okay, that sounds good.’
‘I thought I’d see how you are getting on … you know.’
‘I’m all right. Well, I’m getting there …’ They both seemed to be skirting the ‘M’ word; Ellie picking up on her mum’s awkwardness. Sarah had never been the most open with her emotions, but Ellie knew it was never through lack of love.
‘Right, well then, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Ellie. Take care, pet. I’ll leave at about nine in the morning. So I’ll be there by tenish, I suppose.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
Ellie put down the phone, feeling strangely emotional.
It was lovely to have a bit of time out. A change of scene. Irene and Doris had insisted Ellie take a few days off from the teashop.
A frosty start had led to a stunning October-blue sky. The damp sands of the bay swirled in dark-blonde ripples, the sea a choppy blue-grey. Ellie and her mum had decided to have a short walk on the beach at Embleton, before driving down to the harbour village of Craster for lunch.
‘We used to come here when you were little.’ Sarah looked around her. ‘I can just picture you and Jay making sandcastles on the beach, and you used to spend ages looks for tiny fish and crabs in the rock pools just over there.’ She pointed at the dark craggy masses at the far end of the bay, which curved like a half moon ahead of them. The striking outline of the ruined Dunstanburgh Castle was dramatic on the headland in the distance.
Sarah stopped walking, ‘I’m very proud of you and Jason.’
Ellie looked across at her, surprised; Mum never came out with slushy stuff like this. She almost felt like saying, ‘Are you okay?’ but then thought better of it. Actually, she hoped she really was okay, what if her Mum was ill or something, had come up to try and tell her? Ellie felt a horrid chill through her.
‘Thanks,’ she answered.
There was a second or two of silence as they walked along the shore once more. Ellie looked out to sea, watching a tern bobbing on the waves.
Sarah took a slow breath, ‘I’ve got you and Jason, your dad, and life worked out for us, really well … But before that. Well, I had what you had … what you have just gone through.’ She sounded awkward, as though the words were costing her.
‘A miscarriage.’ There, it was said.
‘Yes … I was four months gone.’
Ellie had never known.
‘And I remember feeling so devastated at the time,’ she continued.
‘Oh, Mum. You never said.’
‘Well, it had been a long time before, and then you were there, a little girl. And, as you and Jay grew up, well it isn’t the sort of thing you just come out with, is it?’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘And anyway, what I’m trying to say, is that it was all all right in the end. I had, have two beautiful children.’
‘Well, I can see that about one of them,’ Ellie smiled. ‘Not so sure about Jay.’
They both laughed.
‘Sorry, couldn’t resist that.’ Ellie didn’t want to sound too flippant.
‘It can all work out in the end, Ellie. I know you’ll be feeling terribly sad, and it’ll be hard for you and Joe for a while. But it doesn’t mean you won’t get your own lovely family soon … Well, hopefully.’ With that, she patted Ellie’s shoulder.
Sarah looked more relaxed, now she’d said what she’d needed to. Ellie sensed that this had been quite hard for her, having to peel away a layer of her reserve.
‘Thanks, Mum. Shall we head for some lunch?’
They wandered back to the car that Ellie had parked up in the lane by the golf course, the conversation returning to Dad’s work being so busy, how the castle was doing, the latest gripping crime novel Sarah was reading, and the state of the roads these days. Sarah had apparently struggled, avoiding potholes and pheasants who were trying to commit hari-kiri in front of her, all through the lanes from the A1.
They sat at a corner table, warming up from the chill of the walk by a real fire, with logs crackling and glowing next to them. Ellie chose local crab sandwiches with some homemade chips, her mum went for the salmon fishcakes. It was lovely to sit and chat some more, how Jay was finding the plumbing business, the Christmas Fayre, about Lucy and Dan.
Ellie’s mum mentioned her cousin Lynn’s baby who was now a few months old, and smiling, loving being played with, then she paused looking at Ellie a l
ittle concerned, afraid she might have said too much, had veered too near the subject. But Ellie realized it was okay, talking about babies and life, and family – that was nice. ‘It’s fine, Mum. It’s nice to know how they are doing.’
The food came and was delicious. The wholemeal sandwiches were fresh and tasty, with lots of flavoursome crab meat. The chips all crispy and salty. It was nice to be served by someone else for a change, and to be pampered a little.
Sarah insisted on paying, though Ellie offered. She said she wanted to treat her.
Ellie suggested they head back to the castle, they could relax and have some tea and cake later. Ellie had been trying out some new recipes, and had a nice coconut and lime cake ready that she’d made this morning. The closed season was the ideal time to try out new bakes, and see what might work to shake up the cake selection when they reopened the castle and the teashop in the spring. She liked having the time to experiment with new flavours and ingredients.
‘Well, I have brought something up to help with supper tonight, too. I have the cool box in my car, back at the castle. Oops, I forgot to take it out. It should be fine though, I did pop an ice pack in.’
‘Yeah, it’ll be like a fridge in there, anyhow,’ Ellie smiled. ‘I don’t think you’d need a cool box, it’s never got above four degrees today, for sure.’
There was a large cottage pie and a crumble, rhubarb and ginger, which sounded delightful.
Later on, they ate in the apartment with Joe, who’d been working through the day – there was still plenty going on with the estate side of things, the farm to keep an eye on, woodland to manage, the grounds to keep up.
The fruit crumble was definitely comfort food at its best. ‘This is gorgeous, Mum. I love the ginger flavour through it too.’ The rhubarb was soft and tangy, the little pieces of ginger, fragrant and warming and then the melt-in-the-mouth crumble with its crispy sugary top. Scrummy. ‘I’m going to have to get this recipe for the teashop.’
‘I didn’t quite get the baking gene, did I? But I must admit I do make a good crumble. The ginger is actually one of your Nanna’s tips. This was Nanna’s recipe. You use stem ginger finely chopped, and a little of the syrup from the jar. Makes it really warming, doesn’t it.’
The Cosy Christmas Teashop Page 14
