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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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‘Who’d have thought it?’ he muttered aloud. ‘Quiet old Eddie Appleyard having a bit of excitement in his life.’

Left in the cottage with Anna and the two dogs and with twelve sheep now huddled in the next room, Tony was mentally counting the seconds from the moment his father left.

‘Can I – get you anything?’ he asked tentatively.

Anna, lying quietly for the moment, with her eyes closed, shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘that you’re having to see this. You shouldn’t be
here.’

Tony shrugged, suddenly feeling important. ‘S’all right. I’ve seen lambs and calves an’ that born. I know all about it.’

Anna smiled weakly. Did he? Did he really know the whole process? How a lamb, a calf, a child was conceived? Perhaps he did, she thought. He lived on a farm. Had done all his young life. He must
have seen the ram in the fields with the sheep, the bull with the cows and maybe Eddie even allowed him to watch when the boar visited. For an intelligent boy it wouldn’t be too great a step
to imagine what happened between a man and a woman . . .

Anna groaned and covered her face with her hands, trying to keep the memories at bay.

‘Is it hurting again?’ Tony asked.

She let out a deep sigh and tried to relax her body. ‘Not just now.’

But only a minute later she was doubled up again and thrashing about the bed in agony. Tony backed away from her, standing pressed against the far wall, wanting to run, but knowing that he could
not, must not, leave her.

He had promised his dad.

Rip whined and pressed against the boy’s legs. Even the puppy’s lively scampering was quietened. Giving little whimpering cries, he nestled between Rip’s paws.

If only, Tony agonized, she would stop crying out in pain.

Eddie banged loudly on the door of the village midwife’s little cottage. Wintersby village was lucky to have a trained district nurse cum midwife living there. Not all
villages had one and a trip to the market town of Ludthorpe would have been impossibly slow in this weather, even on the tractor.

The door was flung open and the tall, buxom figure of Pat Jessop stood there.

‘Eddie.’ She smiled in welcome. ‘What brings you here? Something wrong, ducky?’

‘I need your help, Pat.’ At her gesture of invitation, he knocked the snow from his boots and stepped inside the door. As she closed it, he pulled off his cap.

‘Slip your boots off and come into the kitchen. Tell me all about it,’ she said leading the way.

Eddie and Pat Jessop, Pat Anderson as she had been then, had attended the village school at the same time. They had played together as children and Pat had loved nothing better than visiting
Cackle Hill Farm and helping with the harvest or, as she had grown older, lambing time. She always said it had been that experience that had led her into nursing. Yet, because she had gone to train
in the hospital on the hill in Ludthorpe and had lived in the nurses’ home there, the tender romance that might have blossomed between her and Eddie had withered. Pat had fallen in love with
a handsome night porter on the hospital staff and, eventually, Eddie had married Bertha. Pat’s husband had been killed in the recent war and sadly there had been no child from the union for
Pat to love and cherish in his memory. Her loving nature could now only find fulfilment in the care of her patients and nothing gave her greater joy than bringing a child safely into the world.

‘I’ve a bit of trouble on, Pat.’ Eddie stood awkwardly in the tiny kitchen, turning his cap through restless fingers.

‘Sit down, Eddie, and have a cup of tea.’

‘I’d love to, Pat, but I can’t stay. I need your help.’

Swiftly, he explained how he had met Anna and taken her home with him. ‘Bertha doesn’t know she’s staying in me cottage. And,’ he added pointedly, ‘she
mustn’t.’

‘Oh, Eddie,’ she murmured, shaking her head at him in gentle admonishment, ‘you and that big heart of yours. It’ll get you into real trouble one of these days.’

With wry humour, Eddie ran his hand through his hair. ‘I think it already has, Pat.’

Pat pulled a face. ‘I have heard the tittle-tattle in the village. Not that I take any notice of it,’ she added swiftly, ‘or repeat it.’

‘I know you wouldn’t, Pat,’ Eddie said softly.

‘Anyway, right now we must think about this girl. You think she’s gone into labour, Eddie?’

‘I’m sure of it.’

‘Just give me five minutes to put me warmest clothes on and get a few things together and I’ll be with you.’

It had begun to snow again as they started on the journey back to the farm, which lay about a mile outside the village. Pat, muffled in a mackintosh, scarves and wellingtons,
sat on the mudguard over the huge back wheel of the tractor. She had dispensed with her official district nurse’s uniform in favour of slacks and jumpers. She knew just how long this night
might be.

Dusk was closing in as they reached the cottage, to see Tony standing in the doorway. There were tears running down the boy’s face and as soon as the tractor stopped and Eddie and Pat
climbed down, he ran towards them and flung himself against his father.

‘Come quick. She’s screaming and screaming all the time now and – and there’s water and blood too—’

‘Oh my God!’ Eddie muttered, but already Pat was hurrying into the cottage.

‘Now, ducky, here I am. You’ll be all right. Let’s have a look at you.’

The man and the boy stood in the shadows, feeling helpless but unable to tear themselves away.

Anna was bathed in sweat and clutching the sides of the mattress. She was crying out and writhing in agony.

‘Now, now, calm down. I’m here now and everything will be all right,’ Pat was saying, soothing the terrified, pain-racked young girl. Pat examined her swiftly and looked up,
smiling. ‘It’s only your waters broken, ducky. Everything’s just fine. Baby will be fine. Now, when’s your due date?’

The girl’s head moved from side to side.

‘When did the doctor tell you your baby would come, ducky?’ Pat persisted gently.

‘Never – seen – a doctor,’ Anna gasped. ‘I don’t want it.’ Her voice rose. ‘I don’t want it.’

Briefly, Pat left Anna’s side and crossed the small room to Eddie.

‘This isn’t going to be easy,’ she whispered. ‘She’s fighting it. Send the boy home, but you’ll have to stay, Eddie. I’ll need you. Get that fire built
up. Plenty of hot water and—’ Her eyes fell on the two dogs in the corner. She pointed in horror. ‘And get them out of here this minute.’ At that moment bleating came from
the next room and Pat’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, Eddie, don’t tell me! You’ve got sheep in there, haven’t you?’

Eddie nodded.

Pat sighed and shook her head. ‘Eddie Appleyard, what am I to do with you? This is hardly the ideal place anyway for the lass to give birth, but with animals a few feet away . . . I
don’t want her getting an infection. So,’ she went on, rolling up her sleeves, ‘get me a bowl of hot water and the first thing we’ll do is wash in disinfectant. Both of us.
Where’s my bag? Ah, there it is.’ As she turned she added, ‘You still here, Tony? Off you go and take those dogs with you.’

Tony cast a wide-eyed glance at his father. ‘I can’t take Buster home. What’ll Mam say?’

‘Put him in with Duke. She never goes in there.’

Tony picked up the puppy. Like his father, he knew that Bertha never went anywhere near the pony unless it was safely harnessed between the shafts of the trap. Buster made little yelping noises
and licked the boy’s face, ecstatic to be fussed.

‘Have I time to take the tractor back and pick up some food? Bertha was packing summat up for me. I – I don’t want her to wonder why I haven’t gone back.’

Pat could only guess at the full story from the brief outline Eddie had given her, but, knowing his wife, she realized the importance of Eddie’s request. ‘Yes, go on, but be as quick
as you can.’

Eddie put his hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘You run on home, son, but not a word to your mam.’

The boy nodded and turned towards the door, but before he left he gave one last glance at the girl on the bed. Then he was out of the door and wading through the snow as fast as he could. As he
went, he heard Anna’s last, despairing cry. ‘I don’t want it. Let me die. Just let me die.’

Nine

The birth itself was straightforward enough. The baby was small, a little early, Pat thought, but it was the girl’s attitude that concerned her. Anna screamed and
writhed, fighting the pain.

‘When you get a contraction, you’ve got to push,’ Pat told her, but irrationally Anna would only shout, ‘I don’t want it. I don’t want it.’

Kindly, but firmly, Pat said, ‘Well, you can’t leave it in there, ducky.’

Eddie kept the fire built up and soon the room was hot and stifling. He fetched and carried to Pat’s commands and, as she brought the child, kicking and screaming, into the world, he was
standing beside her, holding Anna’s hand and mopping the girl’s brow gently.

‘You’ve a lovely baby girl, Anna. She looks a bit premature, but she’s beautiful and what a pair of lungs!’ Pat laughed and held up the wriggling infant. Swiftly, she
wrapped the baby in a piece of flannelette sheeting. ‘I’ll see to you in a minute, my pet,’ she murmured. ‘Here, Eddie, you’ll have to hold her for a moment. I must
get the placenta.’

‘Me?’ Eddie looked startled.

‘Yes, you, Eddie Appleyard. I don’t see anyone else handy.’

Eddie sat down in the battered old armchair he had brought from his barn for Anna and held out his arms. Gently, Pat laid the tiny infant in the crook of his elbow and watched Eddie’s face
soften as he looked down at the baby girl. If Pat Jessop had not known Eddie so well that she believed every word he had told her implicitly, at that moment she could have believed that the child
was indeed his. Watching his tender expression and the gentle way he held the child, as if she were the most precious being on God’s earth, brought a lump to Pat’s throat. There were
going to be plenty of the village gossips who would believe that he was the father once this news got out. But no one would hear it from Nurse Jessop.

‘Now then,’ she said briskly, turning back to the new mother, who was lying quietly with her eyes closed. Anna’s cheeks were red with the effort of giving birth, but it was not
the colour of robust health. The young girl was very thin and Pat wondered if she would have enough milk to feed the child naturally.

‘Now, Anna, you’re lucky you don’t need any stitches, but we’ve got to get the afterbirth away. I’ll have to massage your tummy.’ Drowsily, the girl opened
her eyes and frowned. ‘That hurts.’

‘Sorry, love, but I have to do it.’ When that did not produce the desired effect, Pat said, ‘Can you cough, ducky?’

Anna made a little noise in her throat.

‘Come on, Anna. A real good, deep cough. Right from your boots. That’s it. Good girl,’ Pat exclaimed as the placenta came slithering out. ‘That’s what I wanted. Now
we’ll get you cleaned up and you can rest while I wash the baby. Then you can hold her.’

Pat glanced at the girl, but she had closed her eyes again. She lay passively all the time while Pat washed her and changed the sheets, which the nurse had had the forethought to bring with
her.

‘It’s amazing how many times I have to use me own sheets.’ Pat laughed. ‘And I’ve brought you some baby clothes too. I keep a few spares. Now, you have a little
sleep whilst I wash the baby and then you can hold her.’

To Pat’s dismay the only response Anna made was to turn her face to the wall.

When she had washed and dressed the baby, Pat sighed as she sat in the chair beside the warm fire, holding the child close. She brushed her lips against the tiny infant’s downy hair and
asked softly, ‘What’s going to happen to you, little one?’

The firelight was a soft glow on Pat’s round face and glinted on her blonde curls, which were usually tucked neatly away beneath her district nurse’s severe hat. Her blue eyes were
troubled as she looked up and asked quietly, ‘What’s going on here, Eddie?’

Eddie moved closer to the fire to sit beside Pat. He passed his hand wearily across his forehead. ‘I don’t know, love, any more than you do. All I can tell you is – ’ he
glanced across to the bed in the corner, but Anna was now sleeping – ‘it looks like she’s run away from home. She’s desperate that no one should know she’s here. She
didn’t want me to fetch you, even though she was obviously in pain. She’s terrified someone is going to find her. Her family, I suppose.’

Pat nodded and sighed. ‘Same old story, I expect. She’s got pregnant and her family’s given her a hard time about it. She’s either run away or – ’ her tone
hardened – ‘they’ve thrown her out.’ There was silence between them before Pat added angrily, ‘You’d think, wouldn’t you, after what we’ve all been
through in the war, that folks would have learnt to be a bit more understanding. It breaks my heart to think of all the poor little bairns born in the war that’ll never know their fathers,
even some of ’em born
in
wedlock ne’er mind those that weren’t. And there’s a few of both sorts round here, let me tell you. Ee, what’s the world coming to,
Eddie? What’s the world coming to?’

Eddie was silent, unwilling to admit, even to Pat, that his own wife had shown the same lack of compassion towards Anna.

‘But you’d better be careful, Eddie, letting her stay here. She can only be seventeen or eighteen at the most. Legally, still a minor.’

‘Well, I’m not going to report her, if that’s what you’re suggesting.’

‘I’m not,’ Pat said swiftly, ‘but you ought to talk to her when she’s stronger. Make her see that she should at least get in touch with her family.’

‘She’s never mentioned anything about her family, and when I’ve tried to ask her about herself she clams up.’

Pat glanced across at the bed in the corner. ‘Mm. Something’s not right, Eddie. Have you seen that scar on her fingers?’

Eddie stared at her and then shook his head.

Pat held up her right hand and with her left forefinger, made a slashing movement across the first two fingers on her right hand. ‘She’s got a nasty wound across here. A deep cut,
I’d say. It’s healed now, but it’s not an old scar. I reckon it’s been done about six or seven months ago. About the time,’ she added pointedly, ‘that she would
find out she was pregnant.’

BOOK: Red Sky in the Morning
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