An Unexpected Bonus. Caroline Anderson
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takes after me and my mother—we’re both quite tall.’
Jo scooped the baby out of the water and wrapped him in a towel off the radiator, then sprinkled a few drops of lavender and tea-tree oil into the bath and topped up the hot water. Julie sank down for a good wallow and sighed with ecstasy.
‘I can’t believe she’s twelve,’ she said after a moment, sounding stunned. ‘Almost a teenager. I can remember when she was born. I don’t know how you cope alone.’
‘I’ve got Mum. I couldn’t work and look after her without my mother’s help.’
Julie laughed. ‘No, mums are wonderful. I’d be lost without mine during lambing and harvesting.’
Jo took the baby across the landing to the bedroom, leaving the doors open, and took the little spring balance out of the box Tim had brought upstairs. She hooked the nylon sling underneath it, popped the baby naked into the sling and held up the balance.
‘Three point seven kilos—eight pounds three ounces,’ she told the mother. ‘How does that compare?’
‘Heavier than Lucy, about the same as Robert.’
‘What are you calling this one? Does he have a name?’
Tim came upstairs again and into the room. ‘Michael, we’d thought.’
‘Or Anna,’ Julie said from the depths of her bath. ‘I think Michael’s more appropriate. I could kill another cup of tea.’
Tim went through to the bathroom, mug in hand. ‘How did I guess?’ he said, a smile in his voice, and for the millionth time Jo wondered what it would have been like to have a father for her daughter, a man who loved and cherished her and was committed to her, instead of—
She cut off the train of thought and concentrated on the baby. He was gorgeous, a lovely sturdy little chap with everything going for him. She put a nappy on him before he could catch her out, popped him into a vest and sleepsuit and tucked him up in the crib that was standing ready in the corner.
Then she helped Julie out of the bath, and while Tim helped her into her nightclothes and down to the warm kitchen Jo went down ahead of them and tidied up her bag, settled herself at the cleaned-up table and wrote up her notes while they sat by the Aga and chatted about the delivery.
Jo lifted her head as Ed came back in, and Tim grinned at him.
‘You must have heard the kettle boil. Fancy a cuppa now?’
Ed smiled, and the strain seemed to have left his face. Thanks. Don’t mind if I do. Everything all right?’
‘Yup. No problems.’ Jo shut the notes, handed the file back to Julie and slipped her pen back into her pocket, before washing her hands again. ‘Baby’s upstairs in the bedroom if you want to check his heart now he’s quiet.’
‘Sure. Thanks.’
He came down a few minutes later, the baby in his arms, and handed him to Julie. ‘He was chewing his fists and grizzling—I reckon you’re going to have your work cut out feeding him. He’s going to be a real trencherman.’
‘Just like his father, then,’ Julie said affectionately.
The couple exchanged a loving glance, and Jo looked away, staring down into her mug and wondering if Ed was all right now. He seemed fine, though, bright and perky, laughing with the Browns and seeming to enjoy himself while the baby tucked into his first proper meal.
Perhaps he really had been feeling queasy? She had driven rather fast.
Jo checked her watch, surprised to find that it was two hours since baby Michael had been born, and packed up her things. ‘We’ll be on our way now. Don’t overdo it.’
‘Would I?’ Julie said with a smile.
Jo arched a brow, shrugged into her coat and loaded everything into the car with Ed’s help.
Take care, now, and ring me if you’re worried. I’ll check you again before ten, but call if you want anything.’
‘We will, and thanks,’ Tim said, and gave her a hug. He shook Ed’s hand, and then they were off, bumping down the track towards the road.
‘It’s got colder,’ she said, fiddling with the heater controls, and wished she’d got a pair of gloves. Laura had borrowed them, of course, like she borrowed everything these days. Goodness knows if she’d ever see them again.
They turned onto the main road and headed back towards the surgery. Out of deference to his nerves she drove much more slowly, and Ed commented on it.
‘In case you hadn’t noticed, we were none too early,’ she reminded him with a laugh.
‘Yes. I can see why you went fast—did you think she was that far on?’
Jo nodded. ‘There was something in her voice—after a while you get an instinct for the little nuances. She just sounded—well, close, I suppose is the best way to describe it.’
‘She was certainly that!’
He fell silent, and she drove back into Yoxburgh in the dark with her headlights gleaming on the frosty road. As she pulled up at the surgery she turned to him in the dark car.
‘Ed—are you OK?’
He paused, his hand on the doorhandle, and looked at her warily. ‘Fine. Why shouldn’t I be?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I just thought—what happened back there? My driving isn’t that bad, so what was it all about?’
He gave a wry smile. ‘You noticed. Sometimes…’ He sighed. ‘Sometimes I just get a bit choked. I wonder what it would be like—I expect you do the same.’
She relaxed, relieved that there was apparently no great tragedy hanging over him. ‘I’ve got a daughter,’ she told him. ‘I know all about it—the pluses and the minuses.’
He looked surprised. ‘I didn’t realise you were married.’
‘I’m not. I’m a single parent—always have been,’ she added, so he understood her situation.
‘Oh. I see. That can’t be easy.’
‘My mother helps. I couldn’t manage without her.’
Her mobile phone rang, and she answered it, then turned to him with a sigh.
‘Problems?’ he said.
‘I have to go out again—one of my mums might be in labour, and she wants to see me. I’ll sort the car out, reload my box and go over there. You coming?’
‘Do you need me?’
His voice was soft, and something funny happened in her chest—something she didn’t understand, something that came out of nowhere and left her feeling empty and confused and a little breathless.
‘No—no, I don’t need you,’ she told him hastily, and wondered if it was true…
‘MUM?’
A door crashed in the distance, and Jo met her mother’s eyes with a rueful grin. ‘So much for our peaceful teabreak.’
‘Mum?’ Footsteps retreated, then returned, attached to a bright smile in a pretty heart-shaped face the image of Jo’s. Long dark hair, again like her mother’s, was scooped up into a band, and now at the end of the day strands escaped, drifting round her soft hazel eyes and giving her a dreamy look.
‘Here you are. Hi, Grannie. Wow, a cake! Yum—can I have a bit?’ She cut a chunk, hitched herself up onto a stool by the breakfast bar and sank her teeth into the cake, without waiting for a reply—or