Eclipse. Lynne Pemberton
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think you’ll have to be quick, the contractions are coming fast.’
Instantly alert, Mrs Neil took charge. ‘Come on, let’s get the poor woman in out of the cold Tom Bayley, instead of you standing there like a big oaf,’ she ordered briskly.
Tom nodded, ushering Serena inside.
‘Take her into the back bedroom, you know where it is.’
‘I should do.’ He grinned again, this time in Serena’s direction, and by now she was convinced that he was simple.
‘Mrs Neil here delivered my boy last year. Nearly lost him an’ all,’ he added.
‘Thanks Tom,’ Serena commented sarcastically, ‘that’s very encouraging.’
He dropped his head on one side to concentrate before helping her upstairs, and into a sparsely furnished room that smelt strongly of lavender and damp. It contained a washbasin, a high delivery bed and battered medical trolley.
Serena couldn’t suppress a shudder at the sight of the antiquated trolley holding an assortment of ominous-looking instruments. Tom sat her down in the one and only chair. Seemingly reluctant to leave, he held on to her hand.
‘You’re shaking,’ he said, ‘Can I get you something warm to drink?’
Serena shook her head. ‘I’m terrified. I don’t want to give birth here.’
Catriona Neil entered the room at that point. Overhearing what had been said, she addressed her patient in a businesslike tone, ‘First time is it? Well, I’m afraid you may not have any choice, my dear. How often are you having the contractions?’
‘Every few minutes.’
‘When you have the next one, tell me,’ instructed Mrs Neil as she walked to the small sink in the corner, where she washed her hands vigorously.
She had changed from her nightdress and dressing gown into a more suitable outfit: tailored blouse; tweed skirt and court shoes, all in exactly the same shade of donkey brown.
‘Tom, now that you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful. Go and boil some water, and get fresh linen from the cupboard under the stairs.’
Tom looked helpless. ‘I’ve got to be off Mrs Neil, my missus will be worried sick, and it’s a long walk from here.’
‘It’s Friday night Tom Bayley; your Lucy will be fast asleep, confident that you’re holed up in the Plough as usual. So go on, do as you’re told.’ She pushed him towards the door.
Serena watched with a kind of morbid fascination as Mrs Neil lifted a small scalpel off the trolley and placed it in a kidney bowl. Shifting in her seat, she suddenly gasped.
‘The pain! It’s coming again.’
The thickly set midwife, who looked cumbersome but was actually extremely agile, reached her side in an instant and placed her hands either side of Serena’s stomach. There they remained until the contraction had subsided. At that point Mrs Neil stood bolt upright, with a knowing look in her eyes.
‘Is this your first?’ Serena nodded as Mrs Neil went on. ‘I see you’re carrying twins.’ After a slight pause she continued. ‘Don’t worry lass, you’re in good hands. I’ve been delivering babies long before you were even a twinkle in your daddy’s eye.’
There was something about Mrs Neil that instilled confidence. For the first time since her labour had started, Serena felt a little less afraid. A faint smile crossed her face.
‘I’m just a bit scared, that’s all.’
‘Well, I’m sure you didn’t plan to have your babies in the middle of the country, with a couple of strangers in tow. But you’re young and healthy; I foresee no problems whatsoever. Now, let’s get you out of those clothes and into bed.’
When Serena didn’t move immediately, the midwife had to click her tongue.
‘Where do I undress?’ Serena scanned the room.
‘Well, here for heaven’s sake! No point in being shy, you’re about to give birth.’ Rummaging in a cupboard to her left, Mrs Neil pulled out a long, cotton nightdress. ‘Here, put this on, and get into bed. We’ve got work to do.’ She chuckled, and went downstairs to chivy Tom.
Serena could’ve sworn the midwife was enjoying herself. Well, I’m glad one of is, she thought.
She pulled her woollen maternity dress over her head. Dropping it on to the floor, she was standing in her bra and panties, shivering, when Mrs Neil came back.
‘Not ready yet, miss? And by the way, hadn’t you better tell me your name?’
For some reason Serena did not want the midwife to know who she really was. She muttered the first name to come into her head, that of her housekeeper in London.
‘Mrs Boyd. June Boyd.’
When she looked up into Mrs Neil’s eyes they held the same knowing look she had noticed earlier. For a split second their mind’s met; Serena could see that the midwife knew she was lying.
‘Come on then, June, let me help you out of your underwear and into the nightie.’
Serena smiled meekly as if she were a child, when she heard Tom’s footsteps approaching the door.
‘Don’t you be coming in here yet, big Tom,’ Mrs Neil shouted. ‘Just wait a minute.’
She lifted the nightdress above Serena’s head and pulled it roughly over her naked body, leading her towards the bed. ‘Now young lady, you’ve got a tough job to do, so you’d better pull yourself together. You and I have got to bring these babies into the world.’
Mrs Neil’s obvious authority soothed Serena a little. As she lay on the hard bed with her eyes closed, she could have been listening to her first housemistress at boarding school, the much loved Mrs McKenzie whose bark had always been far worse than her bite. For some reason, not knowing that she couldn’t have been more mistaken, Serena suspected that Catriona Neil was the same type.
Stretched out on the bed, she stared up at the ceiling and submitted herself to an internal examination by Mrs Neil. A fringed, floral lamp-shade covered the overhead bulb. She tried to concentrate on counting its faded rosebuds, while the midwife probed inside her, pressing hard into her groin. She’d got to fourteen when the intruding fingers slipped out.
Mrs Neil pulled off her transparent gloves and announced: ‘They are well on their way; it won’t be long.’ Serena sighed and muttered a relieved ‘Thank God!’ under her breath.
A knock interrupted them, followed by Tom’s voice.
‘Shall I come in now?’
Even Serena managed a weak smile as Mrs Neil opened the door, chuckling, ‘Sorry Tom, we almost forgot about you in all the excitement.’
Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Serena prayed for her babies and herself; in that order. She had read somewhere that it helps if you focus the mind on anything but the pain. She tried thinking about the new curtains in the nursery at Redby. She imagined herself floating in the warm Caribbean sea; reliving the day in Port Antonio when Nicholas had capsized their hired catamaran, and she had lost her bikini top. But nothing worked. For the next five hours, the excruciating pain banished every other thought and eventually she gave herself up to all of its agony. Wild, dislocated noises tumbled into her head – her own moans – and she thought she might die.
‘Push harder, June, push!’
Serena wished she had the energy to yell back that she was already pushing as hard as she could. She really felt like telling the other woman to fuck off; but when she did manage to speak her voice found the right words.
‘Please help me.’
‘Come on love. I can see the head, you’re almost there. One last push.’