Unforgettable (Gloria Cook) - By Gloria Cook Page 0,11

and was shocked to see a tiny greasy scalp of fair hair. ‘I can see the head.’ The words were barely out of her mouth when Fiona screamed as if she was being torn apart and the whole head was out followed by the first little shoulder and then the other and then the rest of the baby slid out in a gush of stained waters. Releasing the mother’s leg, Dorrie caught the baby before it twisted at an angle and hit the bed. The baby cried lustily. It was very small but at a glance Dorrie thought it healthy and whole. Fiona flopped over flat on her back, panting as noisy as a steam engine. The baby let forth more startled cries.

Her core in knots of excitement, Dorrie carefully wiped round the baby’s nose and eyes, the most delicate thing she had ever done. Then with a feeling of spiritual awe that she had taken part in the beginning of a new life, she gently supported the slippery child on the length of her arm and hand and lifted it up. ‘You have a little girl, Mrs Templeton, congratulations. She’s absolutely beautiful.’

Dorrie’s smile had never been wider and she had tears of wonder in her eyes as she turned to the new mother.

But Fiona had closed her eyes and faced away.

‘Mrs Templeton . . .’

No reaction.

‘Mum!’ Finn had charged back up the stairs and now he peered round the door. His expression was utter disbelief. ‘It’s here!’

Dorrie flipped the sheet over Fiona to preserve her decency but not before she had glanced down, relieved to see Fiona wasn’t gaping open or bleeding profusely from the rapid birth. While swaddling the baby in a towel she said, emotion making her sound throaty, ‘You have a little sister, Finn. From what I can see she’s perfect.’

Finn crept in for a closer look. Dorrie placed the tiny girl, now making low whimpers, on her mother’s chest and then she lifted Fiona’s arm round her child. Fiona’s only reaction was to turn her head further away.

‘She doesn’t want to know her own baby.’ Finn’s voice was steeped in bewilderment and unease. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘Your mother is overwhelmed by the quick birth, and she’s exhausted. She’ll be fine in a little while,’ Dorrie explained gently, but she didn’t believe her last remark. Fiona Templeton seemed to have cut herself off from reality, and Dorrie knew all about depression and wanting only to be left alone. She had been the same way for several weeks herself when she had lost Veronica, and again years later when Piers had been killed. ‘It’s safe to leave the cord intact for a couple of minutes or so. If Nurse Rumford isn’t here by then, I’ll see to it. Now, Finn, dear, we could really do with that hot water.’

‘The baby’s gone quiet! Has she stopped breathing?’ Finn panicked, staring at the bundled-up deep pink face of his sister. There had been a time he’d hoped his mother would miscarry, but now the baby was here and had taken her first breath, and even though he hadn’t yet touched her he felt a bond with her. If his mother didn’t come round quickly from her stupor the baby would be depending on him, for life and safety and sustenance and possibly to keep her out of an orphanage – and against all his previous resentment and anger, he wanted that responsibility. He wanted to know his sister, to see her grow up. Now it seemed she had died.

Dorrie reached forward and caressed the baby’s soft face. ‘She’s dozing, Finn, and that’s a good thing at the moment. Now hot water, please, without delay.’

Finn let out an almighty breath of relief coupled with the release of all the stress he had gone through so far today. Then he gulped and braced himself for he had a new set of woes ahead of him, realizing how the new responsibility, although he was glad to undertake it, would also weigh him down. Today he must become a man; all thoughts of his own life and future had to be set aside. ‘Right, hot water.’ He sped out of the room.

Dorrie remained still and listened for the sounds of bicycle wheels and Nurse Rumford ringing her bell, as she always did, to announce her arrival. She detected nothing except the various creakings of the old house. Feeling a little out of her depth now that the immediacy of the birth was over,