The Ballroom on Magnolia Street (36 page)

Shirley gasped as the nurse expertly tweaked and snipped; and soon, the baby’s watery home was pierced by the outside world. Warm fluid flowed over the table in a rush. Her lovely pyjamas were ruined. And the pink dressing gown, too. For a horrible moment Shirley thought she’d wet herself; she’d never again feel this embarrassed in her
whole life
. She covered her face with her arm and a little sob escaped from her lips. Declan was distraught. Shirley wasn’t even talking to him any more. Or looking at him. She was all alone in her trauma. There was nothing he could do for her. Nothing at all. Kate was right. He
was
a mere schoolboy, just pretending to be a grown-up. The nurse had Shirley dried and covered up and was helping her to her feet. Together they walked to the waiting suite, only recently vacated. Shirley was weeping quietly. All her Celtic power seemed to have deserted her. She thought of her shiny pebbles on the floor of the car. Maybe she should go back outside and fetch them, but the nurse was massaging her back and there didn’t seem to be enough time.

I am strong and in control
, she chanted internally.
I am strong and in control. I am strong and – oh, shit, where are the drugs?

‘I think I’d like some drugs,’ she told the nurse. ‘If that’s okay?’

‘Not to worry, love,’ the nurse said gently. ‘It won’t be long now, and then you’ll forget all about it. I promise you. Come on. Here we go.’ Shirley laid her head on the nurse’s shoulder and surrendered herself to the older woman’s experience. They proceeded along the corridor together. Declan was amazed. The two women had bonded completely and he was left holding the canvas bag of baby clothes. What he had previously thought of as the nurse’s cold indifference was actually sheer professionalism of the highest order. The mothers-to-be did not want to see the staff in a panic. That was
their
job. Declan was worried that Shirley was going to panic. He was worried that
he
was going to panic. He hurried after them and offered to hop up on the table himself and have a swift vasectomy, now that the nurse had her scissors out. But Shirley didn’t even have the energy to laugh. And the nurse was too busy looking at her watch. In agony, Shirley climbed up onto the delivery bed and was covered with the blanket she had been dreaming of. Declan held her hand and said, ‘I love you so much,’ over and over again. She didn’t answer him. She just wanted this night to be over.

Just then, Mr Kelly popped his head into the room.

‘Well, Declan. Shirley. How are you? How’re things?’

‘Coming along well, now.’ The nurse was brisk. ‘Quite a pace, actually.’ Her face communicated a lot of things to the consultant that she didn’t want to say out loud.
Patient not coping very well
…

‘Let’s get this lady some gas and air and a nice little injection, shall we?’ he said, taking off his coat. ‘Can you get us some tea, nurse? Sugar, anyone? That’s the ticket! Any chance of a biscuit or two?’

Shirley lay on the operating table three hours later, fully dilated and ready to push. She was wearing a green paper gown and her bare legs were covered in goosebumps. Soaked in sweat, exhausted by labour pains that hadn’t eased off for one minute, and feeling dizzy with too much oxygen, she was at her wits’ end. She’d had an epidural, but it hadn’t helped. In fact, she now regretted having it at all, as the sensation of the needle sliding into her spinal column had been most unpleasant. She wasn’t sure if it was the needle piercing her bones or Declan’s shoes grinding into the linoleum, but she was sure she had heard a chalky, squeaking noise. And then, when she had endured the labour as bravely as she could, and the midwife was telling her how to push out the baby, she discovered it was all for nothing. A tiny white hand had popped out from between her legs, its perfect fingers opening and closing gently, and the consultant had shouted, ‘Nurse! Hand presentation! Transverse position. Prep patient for emergency section!’

And suddenly the room was full of people and someone was shaving off her pubic hair and Shirley was so tired she didn’t care what they were going to do to her any more. Declan was practically shoved out of the room and told to wait somewhere close by. There was no time to put him in a green surgical gown and mask, but there wasn’t even time to explain
that
to him. He was left, bewildered, in the corridor, as Shirley was wheeled away from him at great speed by a team of nurses and doctors. Someone pulled a cap over Shirley’s hair and someone else was preparing her arms for tubes. He staggered to a payphone and called his parents, who said they’d come right in. He sat with his head in his hands as the minutes ticked agonizingly by.

Shirley was barely conscious as they put a pen in her hand so that she could scribble her name on a consent form.

‘This form is just to absolve the hospital…’

‘Please,’ she whispered into Mr Kelly’s smiling face, ‘just get it over with.’ And she thought, Please, God, I’m sorry I wasn’t married before we made this baby. I’m sorry I said I loved sex, at the good dining table, and scandalized my poor mother. Help me now, and I’ll be a good parent. I promise.

Then she felt the nip of the injection in the back of her hand and she was slipping away into peaceful oblivion, and Mr Kelly had become God, and Shirley adored him. Before Marion and Eddy were even in their car, Mavourna Moon was lifted out of her mother, and laid in a clean cloth on the weighing scales. ‘Nine pounds and as healthy as a trout!’ declared the silver-haired consultant. Declan was able to give them the good news as they rushed into the maternity building twenty minutes later. Marion and Eddy hugged Declan and then each other. Meanwhile, all the drama in the theatre was winding down.

‘Very good,’ said Mr Kelly calmly. ‘Well done, everyone. Now! Let’s get the placenta out of the way and we can stitch this young lady up!’ He calmly carried out his work, with a happy smile on his tanned and handsome face. All the female staff in the hospital were totally in love with him, and honestly, he couldn’t blame them one bit!

Declan was presented with his new daughter in one of the recovery rooms and he was amazed when he saw her perfect heart-shaped face. He cradled her gently, and touched her fat little cheeks with his thumb. A huge rush of love flowed through his veins and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. He kissed her forehead softly. She was a lovely golden colour, but the nurse explained that was due to a touch of jaundice. Very normal in new babies. Her little wrists were fat and cracked. They’d have to rub lotion into the cracks, she told them. Marion and Eddy took turns nursing their first grandchild. Nobody thought to call Shirley’s parents. Or Kate. It was as if the Greenwoods wanted to enjoy this little miracle in complete peace for a short while, before the other half of the family turned up and began to fuss and fret.

‘How is Shirley?’ Declan asked the midwife.

‘Your wife is going to be fine,’ said the nurse. ‘The baby turned at the last minute. It happens sometimes. No harm done.’ Although you’re lucky Mr Kelly was here, she thought. We might have had to deliver her the hard way, otherwise, with
forceps
. ‘Tell me when Shirley wakes up,’ she said, as Shirley was wheeled into the room and made comfortable. Then she went away, and Declan and his parents were left alone to admire the new baby.

When Shirley woke up thirty minutes later, she felt glorious. There was no pain anywhere. Not even a little bit. She felt like she was floating in warm water. Floating underwater in a warm lagoon. All sounds were muffled. It was a lovely happy feeling. She was afraid to open her eyes in case she was dead. If she was dead, she thought, it wasn’t so bad. Then, she heard Declan say, ‘She’s beautiful, Mum. Isn’t she just beautiful?’ And Shirley knew that she was still in the land of the living. Dear Declan. He was so sweet. Unfortunately, Declan wasn’t talking about his wife. Shirley’s face and neck had broken out in a horrible rash of stress-induced acne and her hair was plastered to her face with stale sweat. She opened her bloodshot eyes.

‘Thank you. I feel great,’ she croaked through dry lips.

‘Shirley! You’re awake.’ Declan came over and kissed her, and tried not to breathe in the aroma of several hours of profuse perspiration.

‘I feel great. Oh,
wow
! I’m floating. Is this a post-birth euphoria?’ Shirley asked, delighted that something had worked out right for her.

‘You’re on morphine, my darling,’ Declan explained.

‘What?’

‘In your hand. In the back of your hand. There’s morphine going in, on a drip.’

‘Isn’t morphine heroin?’ Shirley was alarmed at the thought of becoming an addict. ‘Quick, stop it! Get the nurse to stop it!’

‘No, it’s
morphine
, sweetheart, you’ll be fine on that for a few days.’

‘Are you sure? Will it make me look awful?’

‘Of course it won’t. Relax, sweetheart,’ Declan said. Thank God there were no mirrors in the room. Shirley would scream if she saw how wretched she did look. But when she had gained some weight, she would be back to her usual (gorgeous) self.

‘I’ll go,’ said Marion. ‘Well done, Shirley. You have a beautiful daughter. Well done!’ She kissed Shirley on the forehead. ‘You take it easy, now. Do you hear me? You have nothing to do but rest and get strong again.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ said Eddy. ‘I’m sure you two want to be on your own for a while. We’ll be outside in the corridor if you want us.’

‘Thanks, Mum and Dad,’ said Declan.

When they had gone, Declan brought the new baby over to Shirley. He could barely bring himself to let her go, but he laid her on the bed beside her mother. The baby looked up at Shirley with dark blue eyes. Shirley began to cry. A huge wave of love for her little daughter swept over her and left a lump in her throat. The drama of the birth was forgotten, just as the midwife told her it would be. Shirley knew that newborn babies couldn’t focus properly for a few days, but the baby seemed to be gazing right into her soul. She knows me, thought Shirley, with a shock.

‘Is she really mine?’ she whispered.

‘Yes,’ said Declan.

‘Are you sure there wasn’t a mix-up in the theatre?’

‘No. Look, there’s her name on a little bracelet. Mavourna Moon Greenwood. Just like we agreed.’

‘She’s far too pretty to be my daughter.’

‘Rubbish. You’re beautiful.’ (A whopping lie just now, but what could he do?)

‘She’s enormous.’

‘So was your bump. Go figure.’

‘Is that why she was in the wrong position? Was she quite heavy?’

‘Maybe. She must have moved at the very last minute. Her shoulder was where her head should have been. They might have broken her arm to get her out, the normal way.’ Shirley’s face was a study in horror. Declan could have kicked himself. ‘Maybe not. I don’t really know,’ he faltered. ‘Anyway, it’s all over now. And we’ll all look after you until you’re better. You won’t have to lift a finger.’

‘She knew, Declan. Mavourna knew I couldn’t face the delivery and she moved, so I’d have to have a section. She knew I was too tired for any more.’

‘Whatever you say, pet. Just rest for now.’ The consultant had told him that Shirley’s weight-loss may have contributed slightly to her being overwhelmed by the labour pains, but that it wasn’t the main reason. These things just happened occasionally, he said, and that was why he wasn’t a big fan of home births or natural births. (He was a man of science, through and through.)

‘The Moon Goddess helped me,’ Shirley smiled. ‘And our holy statue. We must bring it into the sitting room.’ And then she fell asleep again.

Declan laid his daughter in her plastic crib and called his parents back into the room. The three of them sat by the window, sipping sugary tea and watching the cars come and go in the car park.

‘The nurses were terrific,’ said Declan. ‘And Mr Kelly. He was so calm, you’d think he was going into that theatre to make a sandwich, not deliver a baby in emergency conditions. He was amazing.’

‘Ah, yes. Our medical heroes. Where would we be without them?’ said Eddy. Marion pulled a face. She knew what he was up to. So did Declan.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I can see how something like this makes music pale into insignificance. What Shirley went through tonight, I’ll never forget it. She was so brave. And Mr Kelly was brilliant. I can’t believe I even considered giving up on medicine to run a stupid nightclub. There’s far more to life than easy money.’

Marion and Eddy exchanged glances.

‘Does this mean what we think it means?’ said Eddy.

‘Yeah. I’m going to stay on at college and sell the ballroom to buy a new house for Shirley and me. And the baby. I only hope I can live up to the likes of what I saw here tonight. I hope I have it in me. I don’t think I have, Dad.’

‘You have, son,’ Eddy said.

Then, they watched the sun come up. It was only when the ward began to fill up with day staff and cleaners and early morning visitors that Declan thought of phoning Mr and Mrs Winters to tell them about their first grandchild. They came crashing into the room half an hour later, trailing Kate and Kevin with them, and brandishing several bunches of flowers and a huge floating balloon. Mrs Winters called out to all the cleaning staff to come and see the new baby, and soon the tiny room was packed to the doors. A nurse came and ushered them all out again.

‘Why didn’t you call me? I would have been right by your side the whole time,’ Mrs Winters began, and then she saw Marion looking a little bit superior. ‘I wouldn’t have been in the way,’ she finished lamely.

‘There wasn’t any time,’ said Eddy, diplomatically. ‘It was all over when we arrived. Things have just begun to settle down.’

‘Still, it would have been nice to be here on the night shift. It’s very exciting to be in a hospital at night,’ sulked Mrs Winters.

‘It’s one night I’ll never forget,’ said Declan quietly. ‘That’s for sure.’ They all looked at him, and felt sorry for him. He was very young to have witnessed such trauma. And then they looked at Shirley, lying deathly pale on the hospital pillows, and felt sorry for her too.