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Post by Bee on Oct 7, 2010 6:53:21 GMT
awesome Sophie (: worth the wait haha cant wait for more!!
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Post by sophie on Oct 7, 2010 9:59:55 GMT
Thanks!
"I won't wear a dress!"
"Indy, come in. The dress is purple and you like purple and it's a party."
"It's my party," she said stubbornly, "and I won't wear a dress!"
Bridget tried not to laugh at her sitting stubbornly in her vest and knickers with her arms crossed over her chest.
"The other girls will be wearing dresses."
"I'm not the other girls! Please, Mummy," said India and when Bridget looked at her again she thought she saw herself at the same age, begging and pleading with Steve and Miranda to let her wear leggings and a T-shirt.
"Okay," she said, giving in, and India squeaked happily. "As it's your birthday. What do you want to wear?"
"This," said India, pulling out purple leggings and a blue T-shirt – close to the same thing Bridget had worn on her birthday so many years ago; the only difference being the colours. Bridget's had been pink and orange and clashed horribly.
"All right. Let me brush your hair."
India managed to keep still and put her clothes on and then Bridget took her to the table, where Declan had laid a special breakfast out of strawberries and cornflakes.
India squealed at all the balloons and decorations and ran to her father who swept her into a hug.
"Happy Birthday, special girl!" he said, and gave her a kiss. "I can't believe you're seven!"
"Happy Birthday, darling," said Bridget again and she and Declan gave her a hug and smiled at each other as she ran to her seat.
"Do you want to open your present from us now or later?"
"Now!"
"Now please,"reminded Bridget, but she didn't get too annoyed. Guessing that India would be impatient they had brought her birthday present to the table earlier, and they handed over the card first, which was in the shape of the number 7 and sparkled. India admired it briefly and thanked her parents and then set to ripping open her present, which was a toy keyboard and she shrieked happily and started stabbing at the keys so odd tunes sounded.
"Indy, darling, put that away for a moment, okay?"
"Oh, but –"
"You can play with it after breakfast. Don't you want to open the rest of your cards?"
"Yes," sighed India, but she went pink with happiness to see a card from Ollie, Chloe and Carmella with a message inside telling her that they could hardly wait to see her again.
"How does it feel being seven?" asked Declan, pouring some orange juice.
"Better."
"Better? Better how? Older?"
"I feel more wise," said India, quoting some sort of movie she had seen on TV, and her parents tried not to laugh. "It feels better than being six. Are you excited about your birthday, Daddy?"
"Not really," shrugged Declan and he grimaced a little at Bridget. "It's not a special year like seven is."
India was shocked.
"I will always enjoy my birthday," she announced, and started getting excited again. "Mummy, can I go and play with my keyboard?"
"I suppose," said Bridget, looking at her watch. "It's two hours until everyone starts arriving."
India ran to the sofa and started playing away happily and Bridget and Declan cleared away the breakfast things.
"I'm already wondering if that was such a good choice of present," he said in a low voice and Bridget laughed but couldn't help agreeing.
"Still, she loves it."
"That's the problem – she'll be playing it all the time now!" and as some jagged notes assaulted their ears, he winced and added, "Not in tune, either!"
The next couple of hours went by quickly as India played on her new instrument and allowed her mother to have a go, who, rather embarrassingly, was not much better, and nor was Declan.
"You know, I was in a band once," he said, swaggering. "So was your mum."
"A band?" said India incredulously and added, rather tactlessly, "but you can't play music!"
"I can play the guitar," said Declan irritably and Bridget tried not to laugh.
"No you can't, I've heard you," contradicted India. "Grandpa Steve looked after one for a friend once and you tried and it sounded really bad!"
"India!" admonished Bridget, but she couldn't help laughing a little under Declan's glare.
"You're lucky it's your birthday, Little Miss," he said, trying not to feel too annoyed that his now seven-year-old could understand his lack of musical talent. "Put that away now, the guests'll be coming soon."
The first people to arrive were Katie, Emily and Lydia. Katie's dress was mauve, Emily's was a darker purple and Lydia's was a pale pink, similar to the colour of several things in her bedroom.
"I'm glad there aren't any boys," she said when her mum and brother had left.
"I'm afraid we do have two coming, Lydia," said Bridget, and Lydia looked devastated. "But they're okay. Would you like a drink?"
"Yes please," she said sulkily and Bridget fetched her some lemonade which she sipped daintily, watching India, Emily and Katie play with a balloon.
The next guest was Jamie, who was dropped off by his uncle.
"Hello," he said, when Bridget opened the door. "This is India's house, isn't it?"
"Yes, I'm glad you were able to find it okay."
"The balloons outside helped!"
Emily, Katie and India stopped playing with the balloon and let it drop and whilst Emily, Katie and Lydia hung back and stared at him and whispered to each other, India raced up to greet him.
"They'll be fine," he assured his nephew, winking at Bridget and Declan, who had come to the doorway as well.
"Happy Birthday," Jamie mumbled to India, holding out a brightly-wrapped present.
"Thanks!" beamed India, and she ran to put it on the pile.
Jamie looked a little worried now that India was gone and that the other girls were staring at him and looked to his uncle for reassurance.
"They'll be fine," he assured his nephew, winking at Bridget and Declan.
"They're girls," he hissed and his uncle laughed.
"It's a girl's birthday party, mate, what did you expect? Anyway, Indy's a girl and you two get along great."
"She's different," said Jamie defensively.
"Maybe the other girls will be different too," said Jamie's uncle brightly but Jamie looked as though he didn't believe it.
"Would you like a drink of anything?" offered Bridget. "I'm sorry, what's your name? I'm Bridget, but you can call me Didge."
"Jeremy, sorry, I should have introduced myself before. No, but thanks. I've got to pick some stuff up for my brother– I'm housesitting for them and they're nearly out of milk, and then I have to meet my friend. But thanks. Bye, Jamie," but Jamie looked a little uncertain.
"Jamie, why don't you go and play with the girls?" asked Bridget kindly but he looked worried until India said,
"Come on Jamie, I'll show you my new keyboard," and his face lit up and they raced off together. Jeremy laughed.
"Quite a team, aren't they?"
"That's one way of putting it," said Declan. "They're certainly a team for mischief!"
"Oh, that trolley race," groaned Jeremy. "Sorry about that."
"Don't apologise, it was probably Indy's idea anyway. She's always getting those kind of ideas into her head."
Jeremy laughed.
"Well, I'll come and pick him up at four," he said. "And congratulations, by the way!" to Bridget.
"Thank you," she said, smiling, and placed a hand to her stomach. "It's not long now."
"Congratulations," he said again, and then he drove away.
"He was nice," said Bridget and she smiled at Declan but then the loud sounds emitting from behind them showed that Jamie was trying out the keyboard – or rather, that he had been, as squabbling also filled the air, and,sighing, Bridget and Declan went to sort it out.
"You're giving him a longer go than you gave me!" yelledLydia.
"I'm not!"
"I haven't even had a go!" cried Emily and Katie joined in, and Jamie looked nervously around them, unsure of what to do.
"All right," said Bridget firmly, taking the keyboard. "Lydia and Jamie have both had five minutes –yes, you both had – and Katie, Emily, Ally, Amy and Diana will get five minutes too, and so will Timothy and Jane. But if you keep on arguing no one gets a go, understood?"
This terrible threat worked and the children played meekly for a while. Gradually Amy, Ally and Diana arrived with presents and cards, and joined in, and, as everyone seemed happy, Bridget and Declan retreated to the other side of the room.
"Where are Timothy and Jane?" asked Bridget, shocked. "I can't believe Mrs Smithson is late!"
As though she had heard them the doorbell rang and a harried Mrs Smithson stood on the doorstep with a quiet Timothy and Jane.
"Sorry," she said. "I can't believe I've run late – I've never run late before."
"We all run late," assured Bridget.
"I never do," she said, sounding surprised at herself.
"Well, it doesn't matter," said Bridget kindly. "Don't you two look lovely?"
Honestly though, thought Bridget, that was a matter of opinion. Jane was in a startling white dress with her hair tied in white ribbons whilst her brother wore black trousers and a white shirt, as though they were going to some childish form ofa wedding.
"I'll pick them up at four," said Mrs Smithson, still sounding dazed. "Timothy and Jane, behave."
India ran up to greet her guests and thanked them happily for the gift they handed her, wrapped in silver paper.
"Happy Birthday," said Mrs Smithson politely, though she looked a little startled at India's choice of clothes. "No party dress then?"
"I hate it," she said blithely. "Thanks for the present!"
"You're welcome," said Mrs Smithson, though she raised her eyebrows. "Goodbye then. Timothy! Jane!"
Her children looked up from the balloons they were playing with and absentmindedly said,
"Bye, Mummy!"
She sighed and walked off, looking sad.
"Now then," said Bridget to Timothy and Jane, "do you want to join in with the others?"
Suddenly some yelling disturbed the air. In the time Bridget had greeted the Smithsons the girls had got Jamie and had him up against a wall.
"Girls!" shouted Bridget and she and Declan hurried over. "What are you doing?"
"Making him pretty," said Lydia in a threatening voice, who had some sort of child's makeup crayon in her hand.
"Leave Jamie alone, he doesn't want you to make him pretty,"said Bridget and she held out her hand. Lydia grudgingly handed over her crayon. The girls dispersed and Jamie moved away, looking very angry, with a smear of crayon over his face.
"I hate girls," he muttered.
"Hey!" said India angrily and Declan stepped in before there was any bloodshed.
"Indy, I'm sure Jamie didn't mean you."
"He said he hated girls and I'm a girl!"
"I don't hate you Indy," said Jamie quickly. "And I don't hate other girls," he added sullenly, though he and Lydia glared at each other, and Bridget was sure that he would have added but I hate her if he knew he wouldn't get in trouble for it.
"That's okay then, isn't it Indy?" asked Bridget.
"I spose,"muttered India.
"India," said Bridget in a warning voice.
"Yes," she sighed.
"And Lydia, are you sorry you tried to put makeup on Jamie?"
"It wasn't just me!" she burst out angrily. "And we were only..."
"Lydia, I want you to apologise, and the rest of you too."
"Sorry," they all mumbled.
"Good," said Bridget in relief, hoping to have no more fights. "Let's play some games then!"
But then the doorbell rang and it was Riley and India shrieked and threw herself around her uncle's waist.
"Hey," he said, looking slightly shellshocked at the numberof small people and remaining angry expressions on Lydia and Jamie's faces. "How's the birthday girl?"
"Look at my new keyboard!" exclaimed India, and she took him to the sofa and Riley tried out a tune and looked surprised to see everyone gathered around him and to find Diana sitting beside him in awe. She wouldn't leave his side after that and Riley, too kind to ask her to go away, looked as though he some strange sort of shadow for the rest of the party.
Eventually the games started and after a round of Musical Statues and Musical Chairs, everyone settled down to the birthday lunch, with no more arguing (though Lydia looked for a moment as though she would throw a tantrum when she lost to Emily at Musical Chairs). When everyone had eaten most of the food Bridget and Declan slipped to the back and got out the cake, which held seven candles and read HAPPY BIRTHDAY INDY! in green icing.
"Happy Birthday to you!" sang her parents and uncle, and everyone else joined in. "Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Indy, Happy Birthday to you!"
India looked incredibly happy and smiled from ear to ear and Bridget felt a little emotional as she set down the cake.
"Make a wish darling," she said, kissing the top of her daughter's head, and the flames wavered and danced in front of India's face, lighting her up for a moment in a strange light, and then they were gone in a puff of smoke as India blew them out in one go. Everyone cheered and Declan took a photo.
"What did you wish for?" asked Lydia bossily.
"She can't say," said Emily before India could open her mouth. "That'll stop it coming true!"
Before Lydia could answer and an argument could start the doorbell rang and Bridget went to answer it, feeling relieved. It was Joanna.
"Hello," she said awkwardly.
"Hi," said Bridget trying to smile, their argument suddenly at the front of her mind. She looked down for a moment and then Bridget shook herself.
"Come in," she said cheerfully, and stood aside.
"Thanks," said Joanna, stepping in. "I have a present," she said suddenly, and Bridget noted the package wrapped in mauve paper which she was swapping from hand to hand.
"That's so nice of you," said Bridget, relieving her from it. "I'll put it on the pile."
"Are Josie and Clara here yet?"
"No, but they should be soon. Riley is. The birthday girl's through here."
"Sorry, are you in the middle of eating?"
"No, you're just in time for cake. Indy!" called Bridget, opening the kitchen door, "look who's here!"
India turned round and squealed happily to see Joanna, and raced from the table to give her a hug. Bridget felt glad, in a shamed sort of way, that they no longer had to make awkward conversation, and India led her to the table where the cake still was untouched and several guests looked longingly at it.
"Go on, Indy," said Bridget. "Let's cut the cake!"
With the help of Declan India cut the first slice of the cake and made another wish, which she did not reveal, and the cake was given out with no squabbling. Finally, after half of the cake was gone and everyone had finished their slices they all left the kitchen to open India's presents. She ripped them open to find a yo-yo from Jamie (Bridget groaned silently), a colouring book from Diana, a tiara from Lydia, a set of crayons from Ally, a friendship bracelet from Amy, a book of horse stickers from Emily, a jigsaw from Katie, a set of Alice bands from Timothy and Jane and a book from Joanna about a girl whose wishes came true (often with silly results). India giggled appreciatively and thanked her.
"One of Clara's favourites," Joanna told her, and looked a little sad. As if on cue the doorbell rang again and it was Josie and Clara, with a bag holding their present between them.
"Thanks for letting them come," said Bridget to David, feeling slightly embarrassed. She didn't know how he felt about her but fortunately he gave her a smile, a little weary but friendly all the same.
"That's okay," he said. "Joanna said how much your little girl wanted these two to go and it's her birthday, I wouldn't want to disappoint her. And my own two little girls!"
He gave their hair a ruffle and Josie looked a little embarrassed but smiled. Clara looked annoyed, however, and muttered,
"We're not little girls."
"Do you want to go back in the car? No? Then behave yourself, young lady. I'll see you at four."
David hugged her goodbye anyway, though Clara still looked cross, and Josie as well, and then waved and drove away.
"Come in, you two," said Bridget. "It's cold out. India's just through there and so's your mum and Riley..."
They walked through and Joanna smiled at her daughters, though when her eyes met Clara's Clara looked away and Joanna looked sad and annoyed. Bridget wondered if she should say something when India ran up to greet Josie and Clara and opened their present, looking on top of the world. They had bought her a small set of a paints and India was overjoyed, even more so when she opened Riley's camera. India instantly began snapping photos and had one of a very shocked-looking Bridget after India had suddenly stuck the camera in front ofher face when she wasn't expecting it.
"She will be a prize-winning photographer!" said Riley smugly and then had to explain what that was to India.
"Aren't you lucky, Indy?" said Bridget fondly. "What amazing presents. Now, how does everyone feel about playing some games? Oh, you two aren't too big," she said to Josie and Clara who were looking embarrassed. "It's a party! Riley has to join in too!"
So everyone joined in, even Joanna, but after some rather nauseated expressions Bridget saw when they had finished playing Musical Bumps she hastily decided on Pass the Parcel, and thought that it had been a bad decision after the chocolate cake. The party went on and there were no more arguments and gradually the parents and relatives came to pick up the children. Diana cried when she had to say goodbye to Riley and he looked embarrassed. Jane's beautiful dress had got all smeared with cake and was more brown than white and Mrs Smithson had a murderous expression when she saw her daughter, but for once did not make comment and instead grabbed her children's hands and marched them away.
"Bye," said Indy sadly. "Thanks for coming. Bye."
Eventually it was just Joanna, Riley, Josie and Clara left out of the guests and Bridget went to tidy some things in the kitchen whilst India excitedly showed them all her toy keyboard. She had just begun to wash some plates when Joanna was suddenly at her elbow.
"Need a hand?"
"Oh," said Bridget awkwardly. "It's okay..."
Joanna picked up a plate anyway and helped.
"Poor Riley. He was certainly mobbed a bit."
"I knew he would be," laughed Bridget. "Poor Diana – no, poor Riley, more like!"
They laughed for a moment.
"I'm sorry if I was rude before," said Joanna quickly.
"Oh," said Bridget. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I seemed critical."
"You weren't – I overreacted. I'm just worried about Clara, that's all."
Joanna sighed.
"I do wish you had told me though," she said and before Bridget could open her mouth to defend herself somehow, the doorbell rang again and the conversation was over. Declan opened the door. It was Miranda.
"Oh," she said in surprise, her smile frozen on her face. "You're here."
Bridget suddenly felt terribly guilty to be standing there with her birth mother at her daughter's birthday party.
"Hi Mum," she said awkwardly as India ran to hug her grandmother. "Joanna was able to come for a couple of hours with Josie and Clara – it was a bit of a last minute thing..."
"I see," said Miranda slightly coldly. "That was good then. Well, I thought it would be a nice surprise to come earlier and help out. You're well, Joanna?"
"Yes," said Joanna shortly. "You?"
"Fine."
Bridget looked quickly across at her two mothers who both had their arms folded and looked angry.
"Mum," said Riley nervously, "come and sit down, I'll get you a cup of tea..."
"No thanks, I'm fine," said Miranda, and she sat down with a stony expression.
"We should go," said Joanna quickly. "Thanks for the lovely party, Bridget, and happy birthday again, Indy. Come on girls, I'll drop you off at your dad's."
"But Dad's coming to pick us up!" protested Josie.
"I'll call him. Come on."
They left quickly and Miranda helped clear up where Joanna had left off.
"Are you annoyed?" asked Bridget in a low voice.
"No, of course not," said Miranda, though she sounded it, and they ate a very tense meal with her, Steve, Rebecca and Riley, despite India's happiness over receiving a torch which shone different colours from Rebecca and a magic kit from Miranda and Steve.
"A halfway point," said Steve, "between a witch and fairy outfit!"
Bridget felt a little sad as they left, however and extremely tired when she tucked India in for the night.
"Come on Indy-pants. Time for bed."
"Is my birthday over?" she asked in a small voice.
"Almost," said Bridget, and Declan came in holding a small, wrapped box. "Just one more present."
India opened it excitedly and opened the box to find a locket inside.
"See, there's a picture of me and your daddy," said Bridget, opening it and showing it to her.
"You're holding me as a baby! But that's you and Daddy ages ago,"said India, confused, looking at the second picture.
"That's when we first met and before we had you. Do you like it?" asked Bridget anxiously.
"Thank you," said India, and was quiet for a moment, but when her mother fastened it around her neck she got excited again and jumped out of bed.
"It's been the best birthday ever!"
"Yes, it has. Come on now, back to bed," said Bridget. "That's enough excitement for one day."
Eventually India lay back down but Bridget could resist giving her a quick tickle to make her giggle again, which she did.
"You're silly, Mummy."
"I'm the silliest mummy around," said Bridget, sticking out her tongue and India giggled again. "Happy Birthday, darling," she said, smiling, serious again and India finally calmed down.
"Thanks Mummy. Goodnight."
"Night. Love you, baby."
Declan kissed her goodnight as well and they turned out the light, still watching her. Declan put his arm around her waist and Bridget felt fully contented. Even if there had been minor arguments she felt inclined to agree with India – it had been the best birthday ever.
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Post by Bee on Oct 7, 2010 10:39:09 GMT
great sophie only one thing, in the last paragraph Declan kisses 'her' daughter not 'his' cant wait for more though!!
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Post by sophie on Oct 7, 2010 11:03:21 GMT
No, because when I wrote 'Declan kissed her as well' I meant her being India, if that makes sense!
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Post by Bee on Oct 7, 2010 11:15:42 GMT
oh right i miss read that sorry haha
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Post by sophie on Oct 7, 2010 23:46:07 GMT
Thanks Lia! ;D
On Sunday Bridget, Declan and India went to Miranda and Steve’s, as they usually did, and though they talked a lot about India’s birthday party Joanna did not come up and whenever there was a space in the conversation Miranda would offer more food or move the conversation swiftly on. Bridget looked at her but as she seemed determined not to mention it Bridget let it be, but hugged her mother tighter when she went home and gave her a kiss, as a way to apologise. Miranda smiled and hugged and kissed her back but Bridget still felt she looked sad, and felt guilty when she left though really, she hadn’t done anything wrong, she said to herself. Still, she felt as though she had broken some sort of rule, even if she did not know what it was.
“Night, Didge,” yawned Declan when they got into bed, not knowing anything was wrong.
“Night,” she said quietly, but smiled and kissed him too, and laughed when he kissed her bump, and then tried to put her worry out of her mind and sleep. She hugged a pillow tightly to her – discomfort was normal this far along – but it was definitely due more to worry than pregnancy that night. She heard Declan’s even breathing and occasional snuffle, and India pad to the toilet, and pad back, and just as Bridget was wondering about whether getting up herself would help she fell into a deep sleep.
The day was hot and bright but not uncomfortable. Bridget was happy and the sky was blue and she felt free and she would have run, had she not being holding the woman’s hand, so she sang a little instead and the woman laughed. The woman knew her name! Bridget didn’t know how but she was kind to her, and said she wouldn’t have to go back if she didn’t want to, and Bridget didn’t want to. There was a mean boy there who laughed at her and tried to take her teddy and called her a stupid girl and Riley had hit him and then Muriel, who ran the home, got cross with them and said it was their fault, even though the boy had started it! She had been mean to Riley and then she had been mean to Bridget when she said so and the boy only had to miss dessert. It wasn’t fair and she had shouted and got into more trouble, and Riley said they would run away. Bridget had begun to pack her suitcase only now she didn’t need to run away at all, and Riley would come too, the kind lady had said, so she was contented and ate her icecream. Bridget never, ever, ever got a special icecream at the home –sometimes an icy pole on a day out and if she did get an icecream it was never a big one. The was a big one and she ate it joyfully and then she saw a lion, like in her storybook, and she roared at it, and it roared back, and so did the lady which made Bridget laugh and laugh. And then Bridget was frightened because she wasn’t happy anymore and some people were coming and they looked cross, and Bridget didn’t want her to get in trouble, and the lady cried and she cried and Bridget dropped her icecream. And then the hot, blue sky was gone and it rained and Bridget was going away, in a car, and she saw the kind lady and she didn’t understand, as they pulled away, but she thought of something her brother said and Bridget agreed: adults always lie. But she had thought the kind lady was different, and then she was gone.
Bridget woke up crying. She looked to her side and the bed was empty and she felt dazed and confused.
“Dec? Indy?” she called, managing to get up and walked down to the kitchen, her legs cold and shivering. There was no answer and Bridget felt a horrible fear from her dream linger and she childishly wondered if they had gone forever too, but then she sternly told herself not to be so ridiculous. Suddenly she caught sight of something on the table.
Good morning Sleeping Beauty! I don’t know what you were dreaming about but you wouldn’t wake up this morning. I didn’t want to wake you, you probably needed the sleep and so did the baby so I took Indy to school today and I can pick her up after because there’s some sort of meeting after work which I don’t have to go to. Don’t ask me what kind of meeting it is, I have no clue. All I know is that the boss has to go to it and that I get a free afternoon which is awesome, like you. Yeah, I’m a soppy dag, I know. Hope you had a good sleep and have a fun day but, most importantly, DON’T STUDY TOO HARD. Can’t wait to see you later. Heaps of love, Dec xxx
Bridget smiled and reread the note and looked at the clock and was shocked to see that it was ten. She couldn’t believe that she had slept so long, and though she always thought ruefully that it was such a hassle and stress, she missed her husband, daughter and their busy morning routine and was sorry to have slept in. In a sort of daze she got herself some cornflakes and then washed and dressed and even sat at her desk to study, but she couldn’t shake it. The dream seemed to shout at her and Bridget knew, with almost a sadness, that she couldn’t ignore it any longer. The game was up, the game of pretending that her strongest childhood memories came from Miranda and Steve. She did remember and with a sort of purpose she rose from the desk and shut the book. She hadn’t studied too hard. She hadn’t studied for even five minutes.
Bridget mechanically grabbed her coat, keys and bag and left the house, shutting the door with a loud click. Her footsteps sounded along the pavement and it seemed that she was alone in the world. It was only when she got to Joanna’s house that she thought vaguely that she might be at work, but Bridget decided that she would sit on the doorstep until she got back if she had to. This was too important. Joanna was in, however, when she rang the bell.
“Bridget!” she said, surprised. “What can I do for you?”
Bridget had had a clear picture in her head of what she would do when she got there. She would stride in and simply demand some answers but for some strange reason it didn’t work out that way. Joanna stared at Bridget with her large, rather doe-like eyes and all Bridget could do was shift, look down and shrug. How pathetic, she thought miserably. How utterly pathetic.
“Bridget?” she asked again. “Look, it’s cold out there on the doorstep. Come in and I’ll make us a cup of tea.”
Bridget dimly stepped into the house, her memory wavering, but it seemed a little less strong. She couldn’t believe herself. She’d always had no problem in speaking her mind and now she did. This was her stumbling block it seemed, but she didn’t know where to begin if she could. Joanna was hurrying around the kitchen filling the kettle and Bridget just stood there, dumbly, until Joanna said, “Go and sit down, I’m fine. You should be taking the weight off your feet when you’re eight months pregnant – I’m surprised you had the energy to walk over! You did walk over, didn’t you? I couldn’t see your car.”
“I walked,” said Bridget in a weak voice and Joanna hurried over and sat down in concern.
“Bridget, do you really promise me you’re all right? It’s lovely that you’ve come over but in all seriousness, you know, you must be so careful when you’re so far pregnant. I’m driving you back, you sound tired.”
“I’m okay,” said Bridget, a little more strongly, and she smiled. “I’m fine – sorry, I just felt tired for a moment, but I’m honestly fine. I don’t need to go back.”
“All right,” said Joanna, but she frowned a little. “Let’s have that tea. Why did you come over, anyway?” she asked quizzically, with a half-smile, and handed Bridget her mug. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, you know I am, but it’s a bit out of the blue. Riley’s not coming, is he? The girls won’t be back until later.”
“No. I know. I just felt like coming.”
“Okay then,” said Joanna, but she didn’t seem too convinced. She sipped at her tea however, and so did Bridget and rain started up outside.
“Again!” Joanna sighed. “It’s such a wet winter already.”
“I know. Still, I guess it’s good really. We always struggle for it later on.”
“That’s true,” agreed Joanna and there was a silence.
“Indy’s birthday was lovely, wasn’t it?”
“Mm.”
Joanna looked at her daughter again. “Bridget, is there anything on your mind, if you don’t mind me asking? You seem a bit distant today.”
This was surely the moment but Bridget lost courage once more and she mumbled, “Clara.”
“Clara?” echoed Joanna, puzzled, and Bridget felt like an idiot. But it was troubling her a little too and it seemed like the only thing she could cover with.
“What about her?” asked Joanna.
“Is she okay?” asked Bridget, feeling more confident.
“I haven’t seen her today,” said Joanna and Bridget felt like an idiot again. “Her dad dropped her off at school – I won’t see the girls until they finish.”
“Of course. Sorry, that was dumb of me.”
“It’s fine, Bridget. I guess you’re worried about how she’s behaving. I can’t really tell you as I haven’t seen her since Indy’s birthday but I spoke to her on the phone last night. She was still annoyed.”
Joanna sounded annoyed too.
“Oh?”
“She’s angry with us, but I guess it’s all part and parcel. Clara’s spent most of the year annoyed but at least now I can keep an eye on her.” Joanna’s good mood seemed to be fading a little and Bridget began to wish she had never brought her sister up.
“You must be glad Clara told you though?” Bridget asked hesitantly.
“Would she have if I hadn’t overheard? And if you hadn’t asked her to?”
“Of course she would,” said Bridget defensively, for Clara’s sake and Joanna made a slightly dismissive noise. “She was scared to tell you!”
“Clara doesn’t care what I think,” said Joanna and Bridget heard the hurt in her voice.
“Yes she does, that’s why she didn’t want to tell you at first.”
“She didn’t want to get into trouble. I know Clara’s a good girl really – or I thought I knew. She lied to us for a while. Yes, I know what everyone says – all teenagers lie, it’s part of growing up, it’s pushing the boundaries – but it feels like I don’t know my little girl anymore,” said Joanna, sounding upset. Bridget put an arm round her and she didn’t shake it away. “It feels like the moment I told her about my past like something changed, something switched off and she just didn’t see me the same way anymore. Like she didn’t see me as her mum.”
“Oh Joanna, that’s not true!”
“I know she still loves me,” said Joanna quickly. “But it feels like she doesn’t respect me anymore. It felt like I could get through to her before and knew what was bothering her and now it feels like I know nothing and she didn’t consider coming to me for a moment because she thinks...I don’t even know what she thinks!”
“She was nervous,” said Bridget. “She was nervous that you’d hate her.”
“Hate her?!” cried Joanna angrily. “How could she think that?”
“You were very angry,” said Bridget nervously and Joanna shook her head and her hair hid her face.
“I love her more than anything! Of course I’m angry but I don’t hate her!”
“I know that and she does underneath.”
“But why did she lie to me for so long?” asked Joanna angrily, lifting her head and Bridget saw a tear on her cheek. “Why did she smoke and sneak out and lie to my face?”
“She was just trying to feel grown up...”
“Well, she’s not! She’s not grown up! She’s twelve! She’s a little girl. She’s my little girl,” added Joanna possessively and Bridget felt terribly hurt – had she not been Joanna’s little girl once upon a time? It had been different, she knew, but there was a snap to her voice when she said, “Clara felt like she was being babied. She’s nearly thirteen, that’s old to her. You know what it’s like to want to feel grown up. Mature.”
“But she’s not!” cried Joanna. “You’re a mother, you know how I feel!”
“I know I wouldn’t have wanted someone I trusted to tell my mother my secret when I wasn’t ready. Didn’t you feel the same when you found out you were pregnant?”
Joanna looked stunned for a moment.
“That’s different,” she said weakly.
“It’s worse but it still involved trust, didn’t it?”
“I couldn’t trust anyone,” said Joanna shortly. “Or it felt that way, at least. I couldn’t tell anyone and I knew what my mother’s reaction would be, so I waited until I had the courage.”
“Maybe Clara wanted the courage too.”
“But I am NOT my mother!” cried Joanna. “Yes, I’m angry, but I still love her and I comforted her when she told me about the boy – I tried to, anyway, before she pushed me away. I would have done even if you had told me – she knows that, doesn’t she?”
“She was scared. She didn’t want to disappoint you and David.”
“Disappoint us?” echoed Joanna. “I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry! I’m angry that I let it happen and I’m scared! I’m scared because I see myself in Clara and we know what happened to me! I can’t let it happen to her, and if she’s doing all this now, what will she do when she’s older? What if I handed it down?”
Bridget looked down at her pregnant stomach and felt like she was looking at Tadpole again and felt young, for a moment, but she knew what Joanna meant, because, in passing moments, she had felt that fear too, when she wondered about India as a teenager, and thought the same thought – that it was a Hale trait. Not specifically young pregnancy but more impulsiveness, stubbornness and Bridget had seen it in her girl already and felt that sense of half-pride, half-terror.
“You didn’t let it happen,” she said but Joanna didn’t seem to be listening.
“I’d look after her though. I’m not my mother. I’m her mother,” she said again. “She’s my daughter. I’ll always love her, no matter what, and Josie, too.”
“Did you love me like a daughter when you took me to the zoo?” blurted out Bridget, hearing herself say it as though she was listening to a stranger.
There was a sudden, shocked silence.
“How...how do you remember that?” asked Joanna hoarsely.
“I was four. I wasn’t a baby. Well, I suppose I was, in a way.”
Joanna put her cup down, looking weak. Bridget put hers down too.
“I was at my worst – a low peak,” she told her. “Well, no, that’s not true. I’d been a lot worse before, totally out of it. I was at a more lucid point. I thought of you and Riley a lot. The Home corresponded to me every three months to ‘keep me informed’ so I knew you hadn’t been adopted yet – I knew your foster placements hadn’t worked out. And I was at a better point. I had a job, finally, and my own flat. I looked around and thought, I’m not such a bad person. And it hit me then what I had done. It had before but now it hit harder; I had less drugs so felt more pain. I cried myself to sleep every night holding your photo – my gorgeous son and beautiful daughter. I knew you were beautiful, the Home sent me photos. And I knew you still needed a home. I did try the proper way but was shot down instantly – a single woman still on medication with such low income? Blood ties meant nothing. I was desperate. One day I went to the Home. It was a Friday afternoon and the other children were at school. I’d seen you before; I knew you played in the yard.”
“What about Riley?” cut in Bridget in a shocked voice. “Didn’t you want your son back too?”
“Of course I did, but he was ten. Even I knew that he wouldn’t come skipping up if I called his name at the gate. My reasoning was that if I had you they’d be forced to hand over Riley.”
Bridget was stunned and Joanna gave a short, bitter laugh.
“I said I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“So you came to the Home...” said Bridget in a low voice.
“Yes, I did, half-praying to Thomas, and it seemed to have worked as you were playing by yourself with a ball, like I’d hoped. Alone, I mean. And I called your name and you came running up, so eager, and asked, How do you know my name? And I said that I used to know you and could you open the gate? And you did. And I took hold of you and we walked hand in hand to the zoo.”
“The zoo?” echoed Bridget, though she had known, really.
“Yes. I wanted you to like me. And it was just so lovely and normal, you laughed at the penguins and the roos and said that you wanted one, and you roared like the lions and I did too, to make you laugh. And people smiled and said how lovely it was to see a mother and daughter out together on a day like this. They smiled at me after all those years of being frowned at. You held my hand the whole time and I bought you an icecream.”
Bridget remembered it. And she remembered what came next and she didn’t want to hear it.
“But then...then someone didn’t smile at us,” said Joanna in a choked voice. “They frowned and pointed and there were murmers. I started to realise what had happened and I was going to run away with you – but it was too late. I heard the sirens.”
“You screamed,” muttered Bridget.
“We couldn’t have run away. The zoo was closed off and some policemen and women came and you dropped your icecream. They pulled you out of my arms,” said Joanna with a sob.
“They took you away from me.”
Another memory leapt up, one she did not want – the back of a police car, Joanna screaming, “You can’t take her! She’s my daughter! My little girl! My little Bridget!”
She stared at the table and tears fell down.
“It never went to court,” Joanna finished. “I didn’t even get in that much trouble with the police. They said I was ‘severely traumatised’. Yes, I said, you've taken my children, but they just booked me counselling sessions for the next three months. And I didn’t dare go near the Home again.”
Bridget had to leave. She feared that if she met Joanna’s eyes she would begin to cry and never stop. What words could she offer? And when, when, when could she not cry?
“I’ve got to go,” she mumbled, still staring down. “I need to go.”
“Oh, Bridget –“
“For a while. I don’t know if I can see you again.”
“Bridget!” exclaimed Joanna and she grasped her hands. “We’ve just found each other again, I can’t lose you, not like this! Oh, don’t leave me!” and she sounded so young.
“You should...should concentrate on Clara,” said Bridget in a voice that didn’t sound like it belonged to her. “She’s your little girl. And Josie.”
“Oh, Bridget!”
Bridget roughly got up, shaking Joanna’s hands away, and made it to the door but did not look back.
“I love you!” she heard Joanna cry but on she walked, feeling like a little girl too.
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Post by sophie on Oct 8, 2010 15:43:40 GMT
Bridget stumbled along for a while feeling blind to everything, and wondered briefly if Joanna would follow her, but she didn't. It rained but Bridget didn't care and when she got back she numbly changed and dried her hair and then sat down on the sofa, feeling as though she had been hit, and then, she thought back to it and the tears came again. She felt hunger and got up and fetched an apple, but after she had eaten it, her tears began again. She sat there, alone, not noticing time passing and then suddenly the door opened and she heard her husband and daughter laughing.
"Hey Didge!" said Declan happily, still laughing, and opening the door. "How long did you sleep for?"
Suddenly he caught sight of Bridget's face and hurried over to her.
"Didge?"
"Mummy?" asked India, upset. "What's wrong?"
"Indy, go upstairs, okay?"
"I want to stay downstairs with Mummy!"
"India!" said Declan in a tone that he did not normally use with his daughter, and she too looked upset and ran upstairs.
"What is it?" he asked softly, sitting by her. "What's happened?"
Bridget gave a loud sniff but couldn't talk.
"Didge, what is it?" he asked anxiously. "Are you okay? Is it something to do with the baby?"
"No," whispered Bridget, rubbing at her face. "It's not that."
She sniffed again and tried to talk but found that she couldn't and instead lay gratefully against Declan and squeezed his hand. Anxiously he squeezed it back and they simply sat together in silence, until Bridget was able to talk again.
"I went to Joanna's house," she said in a wobbly voice. "Because I had...I have this memory. I've been thinking about it for a while, I've been dreaming about it for months."
"For months?" echoed Declan incredulously. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"It felt less real in the daytime," said Bridget, frowning. "And it felt like saying it would make it come true...like I couldn't pretend to myself that it was just a dream."
"What happened?" asked Declan quietly.
"When I was four Joanna came to the Home I was in. I was playing outside by myself and she asked me to open the gate, so I did, and we went to the zoo, but then the police came and took me back. I had to go to a psychiatrist and they said that a madwoman had taken me, but she wasn't," said Bridget, sobbing again. "She was trying to get me back. And no one ever told me again, not even Riley. They all pretended that it hadn't happened. I was just supposed to forget about it."
Declan felt rather stunned and didn't know what to say.
"Didge...God. Were you frightened?"
"No," she cried. "I was happy. I didn't know she was my mum, but I knew she loved me or at least liked me a lot. And then I was taken away from her and they just said she was mad, but she wasn't. I wasn't frightened, I was confused."
"So you went over and confronted her?"
"That was my plan," said Bridget, looking down at their hands. "I was going to go over and demand an explanation but I couldn't. I thought I could but I couldn't. So instead we talked about Clara and then, out of the blue, I asked her without meaning to. And she told me what happened and how she never tried to go back to the Home again and I just fell apart, Dec. I said I couldn't see her again."
"What?" exclaimed Declan, reeling. "But Didge, you have a relationship with her now."
"You said the first time that it might be too emotional," shot back Bridget, taking her hands away from his. "You said. And you were right. It was naive of me to think we could all be one big, happy family. I wish we could but life's not like that."
"Not if you give up!"
"I am not giving up," said Bridget, her eyes flashing. "Maybe I will see her again, but not for a while. I don't know. I just feel like I've been hit. I've been walking around all day in a daze."
"You walked there and back?" echoed Declan, and then like Joanna, "is that safe?"
"Of course it's safe!" snapped Bridget. "I know what I'm doing! And I wish everyone would stop dictating my life – go to a Home Bridget, go to this foster house, go to this foster house, go to the zoo with me, no, you have to go back, and now you can't do X Y Z because you're having a baby!"
Bridget felt some more tears spurt out from her eyes and she didn't try to hide them.
"Didge, calm down," said Declan, worried. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you've got to calm down. It's not safe, it can affect the baby, it'll know when you're stressed. What if you go into an early labour?"
Bridget sat back, a little shocked.
"I wouldn't go into an early labour," she said weakly. "I'm fine. The baby's fine. We're both fine."
"I know you are, but if you stayed stressed it's a risk."
"I'm sorry," said Bridget, feeling deflated. "You're right. And I know you're not trying to boss me around – I didn't mean you. I just meant everyone in general. I'm sorry. But it's hard to calm down when I've been told this."
"I know," said Declan, kissing her wet cheek. "And I think you're amazing, but I don't think you should burn bridges with Joanna."
"I'm not saying for always," sighed Bridget. "And I still want to see Josie and Clara. I just can't see her for now. It's too hard."
"Okay," sighed Declan, and he held her close and couldn't help but feel an old anger towards Joanna return – her and her family, always the cause of distress it seemed.
The next few days were terrible. Declan tried to understand and wait for her to calm down, as Didge usually eventually did, but most surprisingly it was Riley who wouldn't and made her talk about it.
"Didge, it was so many years ago. You know she was in a bad place."
"No one told me," she said doggedly. "No one. Not even you!"
"They told me not to!" he exclaimed. "I was ten! I didn't really understand what had happened anyway – all I knew was that my baby sister had been abducted! It just made me hate her more and not want to remember her!"
"You were angry then," said Bridget childishly. "Why aren't you angry now?"
"Because, Didge, she did it because she loved us. She was ill."
Riley sounded like Bridget had when they had first gone back to see Joanna and it was though they were playing some sort of strange role reversal.
"Can't you understand?" he asked, like she had done so many times and, like he, she said, "No. I can't understand her never talking about it again, no one ever talking about it again."
"Maybe she would have if you hadn't stormed off! Didge, you didn't mean it when you said you'd never see her again, did you?"
"I didn't say never," she contradicted. "I said not for a while. I'm not going to dinner on Wednesday night."
"What?" Riley exclaimed. "What about Josie and Clara? You always go."
"I still want to see them," she said, hurt. "Just not on Wednesday night."
"They'll be upset," he warned. "I think you should go. I'm going back next week and we should go together."
"I can't," said Bridget stubbornly and Riley sighed, but gave her a hug.
Bridget ignored her calls from Joanna but when she called Josie on Thursday she got a tearful outburst.
"You said you didn't hate Mum!" she cried.
"I don't," promised Bridget. "I don't hate her."
"Then why won't you see her?" cried Josie. "Why won't you see us? Why didn't you come over on Wednesday?"
"It's hard for me, Josie. It doesn't mean I don't want to see you and Clara though."
"You always come," she cried. "Riley's going back to Sydney soon and then it'll just be me and Clara and Mum all over again – you promised and you lied!"
"I didn't lie," she said, feeling very upset. "I'm still going to keep in touch with you. We can still meet up. I can see you tomorrow if you want."
"Forget it!" snapped Josie, and she hung up.
Bridget felt as though she had been slapped. Josie had never been angry with her before and it felt terrible. She tried to call her back but this time Josie was the one to ignore her calls and when she tried Clara she didn't even have her phone turned on. On Friday Bridget instead met up with Donna, Zeke and Theo but they didn't cheer her up and instead looked as though someone had died.
"Please, guys," groaned Bridget. "I don't want to talk about it."
"It might help," offered Donna but she simply shook her head and Donna looked at Zeke, as though to say, I did my best. But Bridget wouldn't budge and so their talk turned to Rachel, and how Simon had moved into her flat and when she would next come back.
"And spoil you," said Bridget, cuddling Theo who gurgled in her arms, but all she felt when she left the cafe was a strong, aching sadness. She missed her best friend and easy laughter and her family, though the thought of going back made her feel more than uneasy. How could she go back? Bridget missed Rachel more than anything, though she didn't see how she would feel any different if she was there all the same. The truth was, she missed her birth mother, but Bridget pushed it away and concentrated on her study. Declan sighed when he saw her, but let her be. On Sunday they went over for a rather quiet dinner at Miranda and Steve's and when Riley was teaching India a yo-yo trick and Declan and Steve were in the kitchen, Miranda caught Bridget and sat her down on the sofa.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," sniffled Bridget. "I don't. And shouldn't you be happy? You paid her to stay away!"
Miranda was quiet for a moment.
"That was a mistake," she said finally. "I did out of some foolish fear...fear that she would take you away, that you wouldn't want me as a mother anymore."
"As if that could ever happen," said Bridget quietly. "You're my mum if we're blood-related or not."
"I know," said Miranda with a sad smile. "I told you I was foolish. And it probably will always be tense between Joanna and I...for both our mistakes, but more mine. Because you know, Bridget, she was in such a hard place."
"I know," cried Bridget. "I know, I know, I know! And that is what I have always said – I understand why she did what she did, I can forgive it because she was ill, but it's not about forgiving and understanding!"
"Isn't it?" asked Miranda quietly.
"No!" cried Bridget, floundering under her mother's gaze. "It's about no one ever telling me the full story! Everyone expecting me to forget about it!"
"But how could she tell you when you were little?"
"She could have told me now," said Bridget stubbornly. "I deserved the truth."
Miranda sighed.
"It's too hard to see her, Mum," said Bridget, gazing up with tear-streaked eyes. "It just is. Maybe not forever, but for now."
"All right," said Miranda, stroking her hair. "See how you feel until the baby's born. If it is making you stressed..."
"Please," said Bridget in a fresh set of tears, "don't say it's for the best."
Miranda soothed her and though Bridget managed to calm down she felt terribly sad when she left their house. She couldn't sleep that night and on Monday morning she felt horrific, with an aching back, but daughters had to be taken to school and mothers had to get dressed, the day had to go on, and so Bridget got India up and dressed and kissed Declan goodbye and then sat down on the sofa for a moment with a sigh, taking a break during the morning rush.
"You look like you're going to explode, Mummy," remarked India with interest.
"I'm not going to explode, India," said Bridget, wishing that India hadn't put that image into her mind. "That's not how babies are born."
"I know how babies are born."
"Oh, do you?"
"Yeah, the mummy pushes her belly button and the baby shoots out!"
Bridget had to laugh at that and India looked put out.
"I wish it was that easy. You have to push."
"Push?" echoed India, looking shocked.
"Yes. Come on, we'd better get you to school."
Bridget drove them there, kissed her goodbye and saw her through the gate. Mrs Smithson was there, having just dropped off Timothy and Jane and she looked at Bridget and honestly remarked, "You look terrible," though she did not say it in her normal, cutting way, but more in one of curiosity. Bridget flared up, however, and snapped, "Mind you own business for once," and drove back, feeling heartily sick of everyone. Everyone was acting like it was her fault that this had happened; this row, and it wasn't, she thought stubbornly. Was it so much to ask for some understanding? Angrily Bridget tidied some things away and then, down a sofa cushion, Bridget saw something blue. She tugged it up and saw it was a cardigan which belonged to a child but it was too big for India or any other of the children her age. It had to belong to Josie and she clearly remembered her sister wearing it, now she thought back. She bit her lip and looked at it, sitting down for a moment to ease her back. Bridget was beyond sick of being pregnant.
"Why don't you hurry up?" she mumbled to her stomach. "I can't take much more of this."
She looked back down at the cardigan. She didn't know when Josie would want to see her again but it seemed silly to keep it and Bridget wondered what to do. She decided in the end to drop it off at Joanna's – she could just slip it through the letterbox, or leave it by the door with a note. It was an oppressive, heavy day and Bridget couldn't face the idea of a day spent inside – she had nothing to do and couldn't even bear the thought of study. She needed a walk and so took the cardigan and her keys and walked slowly to Joanna's house, whilst the baby kicked a little and Bridget gritted her teeth. The baby had dropped which made things both slower and heavier and it took a while to reach her birth mother's house. No one seemed to be in and the car wasn't there and Bridget made to slip the cardigan into the letterbox but something made her hesitate, and her hand wandered over the doorbell when suddenly the door swung open and there stood Joanna, white-faced.
"You've come back," she whispered.
"I didn't think anyone was in," said Bridget, caught off-guard.
"I'm on my break."
"I've got Josie's cardigan," said Bridget in a numb voice. "She left it behind after Indy's birthday party."
"Oh, yes – we were hunting for that high and low."
"Here," said Bridget awkwardly, holding it out, but instead Joanna took her hands.
"Bridget."
"I've got to go," she said, and started to pull away but Joanna tugged at her.
"Oh Bridget, please come in. I know it was a shock and I know why you never want to see me again but please talk to me."
Bridget had an excuse ready but found herself stepping into Joanna's house. It felt as though she had been away for longer than just a week and they looked nervously at each other.
"Come and sit down," said Joanna and Bridget went to a sofa.
"I don't blame you for being angry," she said a pleading voice.
"Why did you never tell me?" cried Bridget.
"Bridget, it was all so long ago now," said Joanna desperately, pushing some hair back. "It was twenty years ago, almost twenty-one. I didn't see why I should drag up the past. I didn't even know you could remember it."
"Drag up the past?" echoed Bridget, getting up. "But Joanna, you can't just bury stuff like that! It happened to me – it happened to us!"
Suddenly Bridget thought she had some glimmer of how Clara must have felt when her mother had told her the truth about her life, only that must have felt fifty times worse.
"It was an awful time in my life..."
"It was awful no one ever telling me again," said Bridget stubbornly.
"I know," cried Joanna, getting up too. "But I didn't know how to begin reminding you of that and you didn't show any signs of remembering it – I thought that the past should stay in the past. With that, anyway."
"But I do remember it," said Bridget stubbornly. "I dreamt about it. And no one ever talked to me about it," she said, tears sparking in her eyes. "They told me it was something nasty that I didn't need to remember."
Joanna was quiet.
"They should have talked to you," she said. "I suppose they thought you were so little that you would forget."
"They called you a madwoman," sobbed Bridget. "You weren't."
"Well," said Joanna wryly, "I don't know."
"You weren't. I knew that then."
They were quiet for a moment.
"It wasn't fair," sobbed Bridget. "That they never let you see me, and that they called you those things. I missed you," she said angrily. "I only knew you that day and I missed you. Of course I could remember."
"Oh, Bridget."
Joanna went to hug her when she suddenly noticed the change in Bridget's expression.
"Oh God."
"What? What is it?" asked Joanna, looking frightened.
"My water just broke."
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Post by sophie on Oct 9, 2010 23:20:15 GMT
"Your waters have broken?!" echoed Joanna in shock.
"But they can't have..." said Bridget faintly. "It's too soon!"
"We have to call Declan!"
"It's too soon!" cried Bridget and fear began to hit her. "It can't be happening!"
"It is," said Joanna, remaining alarmingly calm. "It's like its mum and sister – it's tired of waiting. Think of that, Bridget, you can stop calling the baby it, you'll find out if you have a daughter or a son!"
"Joanna," whimpered Bridget, "I'm scared."
Joanna's face softened.
"I know, darling. But you can do it. You can breathe through the pain, you know it's worth it."
"My baby," agreed Bridget, and she managed to smile. "Oh, Declan!" she cried suddenly, as a contraction hit.
"Where's your phone? I'll call him now."
"In my bag," Bridget gasped, holding her stomach and Joanna ran to it and fished the phone out.
"Bridget, it's not working."
"What?!"
"The battery's dead. What's the number?"
"It's...it's....oh my God, I don't know. I don't know," she said hysterically. "I've dialled that number so many times and I can't remember it! How could I forget to charge my phone?"
"Bridget, Bridget, it's all right. Don't panic. We can do it the old fashioned way," she said, going to a shelf and getting the Yellow Pages. "What's the name of the company?"
"Hill Publishing," said Bridget, rubbing her back.
"All right." Joanna looked up the number and grabbed the phone.
Declan lay back in his office chair lazily twiddling a pen back and forth between his fingers. He was enjoying the slow-moving morning when suddenly the phone rang. Declan groaned and left it for a moment before picking it up.
"Hill Publishing."
"Declan, is that you?"
Declan frowned, recognising the voice.
"Joanna?" he asked incredulously, not understanding why on earth she would be calling.
"Yes."
"Why are you calling? What's going on?"
"Declan, stay calm. It's Bridget, she's gone into labour, her waters have broken."
"WHAT?!" he shouted and leapt up.
"It's all right, it's all right."
"How far apart are her contractions?" he demanded.
"It's okay, they're not two minutes apart yet. Here, talk to Bridget," and she handed the phone over to her.
"Dec?" came a sob.
"Didge, are you okay? It's going to be fine."
"I know," she sniffled. "That's what Joanna said."
"How far apart are your contractions?"
"I've only had one," she cried. "Five minutes ago, I haven't had another one yet..."
"That's fine," he said encouragingly. "I'm coming over now."
"Dec, hurry, please!"
"I am. I love you."
"I love you too."
Declan threw the phone down, snatched his keys and hurtled out of his office and down the corridor, his heart pounding in his chest.
"He's on his way?" asked Bridget, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Joanna nodded.
"See, I told you he would," she said encouragingly. "It's all going to be fine, darling," she soothed.
"Oh," whimpered Bridget as another pain came, "I want my mum!"
Joanna felt distraught.
"Should I call her?"
"She's away," whispered Bridget. "On some business trip with Dad."
"I can call her anyway," said Joanna, and she took the phone again but no one answered, so Joanna left a message.
"It is going to be okay," she promised again. "Sweetheart, sit down," but Bridget shook her head anxiously.
"I don't think I can move!"
"Yes, you can," said Joanna gently and led her down to the sofa. "Do you want anything?"
"Maybe...maybe some water," mumbled Bridget and Joanna nodded in relief, feeling less useless.
"Water," she said and headed to the kitchen.
"I didn't mean it," said Bridget frantically, looking down at her stomach. "I didn't mean that I wanted you to come now. Stop, please stop, I'm not ready for you yet..." and Bridget cried a little more, as honestly she didn't think she ever would be.
"Hey," said Joanna softly, hurrying back with two glasses of water and putting an arm around Bridget.
"I can't do it!" cried Bridget.
"Yes you can, of course you can. I know you can."
"I'm not ready! I never will be!"
"Were you ready last time? With India?"
Bridget shook her head.
"You did it then and you couldn't even have anything to help with the pain. If you could do it then I know you can now. I wasn't ready when I had you and Riley – I was just a girl, really. But I did. And I know you can again. You're strong, Bridget."
"I don't feel very strong," whimpered Bridget and Joanna kissed her cheek.
"You're one of the strongest people I know."
"So're you," said Bridget, and she and Joanna smiled at each other, rather tearfully, and then a screech of tyres outside showed that Declan had arrived. He raced to the front door and Joanna had it open and he ran to Bridget.
"Didge? Oh Didge, you're okay."
"I'm not, the baby's coming," she sobbed.
"It's okay, we can go to the hospital right now," he said, panting. "You're okay. How are your contractions?"
"I've had one more."
"Okay, let's go," said Declan, and he pulled her up but Bridget stopped him for a moment.
"Hold on. Thank you," she said to Joanna, and she gave a shy smile.
"No, thank you, darling," said Joanna, squeezing her hand, and they smiled at each other again and then Bridget began to the door. Declan looked quickly back.
"Thank you," he said quietly, and then helped Bridget to the car.
"You're welcome," said Joanna softly, but they were too far away to hear. She stood at the doorway and watched them drive away and stayed until they were out of sight, feeling a mother's anxiety.
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Post by Bee on Oct 10, 2010 9:10:43 GMT
oooh exciting Sophie!!
it must be weird for Joanna to hear Bridget refer to someone else as "mum"
cant wait for the next few updates to find out if its a boy or a girl!!
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Post by sophie on Oct 10, 2010 10:23:02 GMT
Thanks! I know!
“Push!” said the midwife and the doctors and the nurses. “Push, Bridget!”
“I’m trying!” cried Bridget, and some tears forced their way out of her eyes. “Nothing’s happening!”
She’d been at this for hours. They had driven to the hospital at top speed in a panic and everything had happened very quickly. A midwife had ran up, Bridget had been taken to a room and examined by her and though her waters had broken early her labour had not progressed enough to go into delivery.
“You’re only five centimetres dilated,” she had told her, taking her gloves off. “Sorry, Bridget, you’re going to have to wait for now.”
“Can you stop it then?” she’d asked frantically. “If I’m only five centimetres dilated? I’m not due for another three weeks!”
But the midwife had shook her head.
“Afraid not. It’s started now and there’s nothing we can do for a while but wait.”
So Bridget had been handed a hospital gown and given a room and after she had got into the bed Declan had kissed her and gone to make the calls to Donna, Zeke, Rachel and Rebecca.
“I can’t believe you,” she’d said to her bump. “You’ve come early but now you've decided to take your time? You’re just like your sister, do you know that? Only she came all at once. Maybe that means you’ll be easier than her...or not,” she grimaced, as a new contraction hit, and tried to keep calm. “Let her rip, take a tip, for we’ll win the premiership, we are the boys from Erinsborough...” and then she had realised what she was doing. “Tell anyone I sang that whilst I was in labour and you’re toast,” she'd said firmly. “Indy knows that too.”
Declan had come back into the room then with a wide smile on his face.
“I’ve just called Mum,” he’d said. “She’s ecstatic and don’t worry, it’s all under control. She’s going to pick up Indy and look after her until we can go home. Miranda and Steve got the message and they’ve called Riley, they’re all heading over now. So’re Donna and Zeke.”
“Great,” said Bridget and she’d tried to smile.
“What?” asked Declan, a crease in his brow. “Are you comfortable? Is it another contraction?”
“No, I’m fine, but I had one a minute ago. I don’t know what it is. It’s all so crazy. I hope this baby won’t take ages...but part of me hopes that it does. The waiting part before birth, I mean. I’m crazy.”
“You’re not,” said Declan, squeezing her hand. “Hey, imagine if I’d had to deliver it at the side of the road?”
“That would be worse,” agreed Bridget, and she had managed to laugh. A little while later her parents and Riley had burst into the room and hugged her.
“I can’t believe it’s happening now,” said Miranda, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, darling.”
“I’m so glad you’re here, Mum!” said Bridget in a muffled voice, hugging her.
“Oh, me too.”
Nothing happened for a while. Donna and Zeke arrived and sat with her, and they remembered India’s birth, and Theo’s and Bridget remembered something Jessica had said – it felt like it would never end and now it feels like yesterday I found out I was pregnant. How true it was, she thought ruefully. Suddenly it all felt like yesterday that she had been looking down at that test. Where had all that time gone?
When everyone had gone to get some coffee and Declan was in the toilet she had rung Rachel, staying true to her promise.
“I can’t believe it’s happening now!” Rachel had squeaked in a rather tired voice.
“I know, I’m sorry. What time is it your end?”
“Four AM,” came a yawn.
“Sorry,” winced Bridget.
“Don’t be stupid, Didge, I told you to call me the minute anything happened. How long have you been in labour for?”
“Nothing’s really happened, but my water broke about two hours ago.”
“Two hours ago?!” echoed Rachel incredulously. “You said you’d call me the minute anything happened!”
“I had to get to the hospital!” Bridget had protested, holding her stomach. “I had to check in and get checked and get a room...it all took ages. I’m sorry.”
“You know I’m only teasing. I wish I was there with you.”
“I know. I do too.”
There was a pause and all the oceans and countries and miles stretched out between them, the whole world, feeling further than ever.
“I’m coming back as soon as I can though,” said Rachel in a more cheerful voice. “Trust you Didge, to go into labour early!”
“They chose it, not me,” said Bridget defensively. “If I had my way he or she would be staying there for another month!”
“I know, I know,” said Rachel quickly. “You’re going to do great, Didge. Call me again as soon as you can, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Love you.”
“I love you too.”
Bridget had hung up with a click, feeling defeated, and a nurse came to check her again. She was two more centimetres dilated but nothing could happen yet and Bridget groaned. The day wore on into evening and it got late and everyone said they would sleep out in the waiting room, ignoring Bridget’s protests that they ought to go home to bed if the labour lasted until night.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Donna firmly. “As if we’d leave you!”
At six o'clock Bridget rang Rebecca.
"I'm fine," she assured her. "I am. How's Indy?"
"She's okay, she's right here. She's a bit frightened."
"Mummy?" came a scared voice.
"Hey, sweetheart," said Bridget reassuringly. "It's all going to be fine, your brother or sister's just decided to come early."
"I want you to come home!"
"I do too, darling, but it's just for a little while. I'll see you tomorrow. Can you be a brave girl for now?"
"Yuss," India had sobbed and Bridget had soothed her a little more and then passed the phone to Declan, missing her daughter, and felt that she had sounded a lot braver than she really felt.
Then, at long, long last Bridget’s contractions began to come closer together and she’d clutched at Declan. “Get the midwife,” she had whimpered, feeling scared again, and the midwife checked her over and gave a smile and a nod.
“It’s happening now, Bridget. You’re ten centimetres dilated. You’re ready to go into delivery.”
“Oh, Mum,” whimpered Bridget as the nurses helped her onto a trolley, and she felt herself cry.
“You’ll be fine, sweetheart,” promised Miranda, fighting tears herself. “Your dad and I are right outside.”
Zeke and Donna had woken up too and hurried over. They hugged Bridget but when Donna began to pull away Bridget held her another moment.
“You won’t go, will you?” she whispered tearfully.
“Oh Didge, as if we’d leave you,” said Donna, and she wiped some tears away from Bridget’s face.
“Am I going to be okay?” she’d asked tearfully, feeling like she had all those years before.
“You know you are.”
“Donna,” said Bridget, looking up at her. “I love you.”
“We really have to move,” the nurse had said, firmly but kindly, and Bridget and Declan had gone into delivery and there they had been for the past three hours. Bridget didn’t know what to do. They were telling her to push and she was, it was all she had been doing since they had told her the head was crowning and before that she’d had to hold off and gasp and clutch Declan’s hand as the contractions had waved through her body.
“You can do it!” said the midwife in an encouraging voice. “Push, Bridget! Push!”
Bridget pushed, gasped, and clenched Delan’s hand, her eyes squeezed shut. How could she have forgotten this? she asked silently. How could she have forgotten that it felt as though she was being ripped apart, how could she have forgotten the worst pain in the world?
“Please can I have something,” she gasped, letting go of her breath but the nurse shook his head.
“You’re too far along in the delivery.”
“What?” echoed Declan angrily, still holding Bridget’s hand. “She needs pain relief! She’s in agony!”
“I can’t give pain relief now,” he had said obstinately. “I could have done before but she’s in the final stage of labour.”
“She has a name!” said Bridget angrily, trying to sit up a little, but failed. “And it wasn’t so bad before. Please, it feels like I’m being torn apart!”
“I’m sorry,” said the nurse but before Bridget could ask, beg, again, a new contraction came and she gasped and clutched Declan’s hand and pushed with all her might, groaning.
“Bridget, you’re doing really well,” said the midwife encouragingly. “I need another big push to get the head out.”
“What?” gasped Bridget. “I can’t push anymore, I can’t!”
“Yes you can, of course you can,” said the midwife and Declan kissed her and brushed some of the hair away from her face.
“I can’t do this, Declan,” she said miserably, her body heaving. “I can’t! Nothing’s happening!”
“You’re nearly there,” he promised her. “Come on, one more big push!”
“Okay,” agreed Bridget and as she clenched his fingers he whispered, “Didge, you’re breaking my hand!”
“I’ll break something else in a minute!” she shouted but then another contraction came.
“Oh God!” she shouted and with one final, superhuman effort she heaved and pushed and finally, after what felt like more than forever she felt something give and groaned happily.
“That’s it, Bridget!” shouted the midwife. “The head’s out!”
“I know,” sighed Bridget, and she gave Declan a quick smile and he squeezed her hand. More contractions came but now it was easier and Bridget, gasped, pushed, squeezed Declan’s hand until –
“Here it comes!” called the midwife and with one long, final push Bridget felt it arrive and lay back in total exhaustion.
“Here it is!” cried the midwife, catching the baby. “It’s here! It’s a girl!”
“A girl?” echoed Bridget, sitting up, and there was silence and then the baby cried and it was music to Bridget’s ears.
“A girl,” she sobbed and Declan kissed her and she held out her arms. “Is she okay?” she asked desperately, as they wrapped her up and placed her in Bridget’s arms, still howling. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” said the midwife, beaming. “She’s absolutely perfect. She’s a beautiful little girl.”
“Oh, hello,” sobbed Bridget, looking down at her new daughter, who had a streak of blood on her head and was still crying. “I know. I know.”
“Didge, you did it,” said Declan in a tight voice. “She’s here.”
“She did it,” said Bridget, looking down fondly and wiping her face. “Not me.”
“No, it was all you. It was all you.”
They sat in silence for a while, completely oblivious to everything around them.
“It’s a girl,” echoed Declan, sounding shellshocked. “We’ve got another girl. I was sure it was a boy.”
“Here, hold her,” said Bridget softly, holding out the baby. “Hold your little girl.”
“She’s our little girl,” corrected Declan, taking her, but when she was in his arms he looked down with a soft smile and his whole composure seemed to change. The baby had stopped crying and Declan sat down the bed, still holding her, without really seeming aware of what he was doing.
“Do you know what this means?” asked Bridget a little while later.
“No, what?”
“It means,” said Bridget, “that I am always right!”
And she gave him a tired smile and stuck her tongue out and Declan laughed.
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Post by Bee on Oct 10, 2010 10:38:16 GMT
i knew it would be a girl!!!
awh that was amazing Sophie!!
cant wait for more!!
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Post by sophie on Oct 10, 2010 18:20:48 GMT
Thanks - well done!
India Napier woke up in the night. She sleepily opened her eyes and heard her grandmother on the phone, sounding very happy.
“Oh, fantastic! Oh, well done, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you. Indy’s going to be over the moon.” There was a pause and then Rebecca said, “I think she’s asleep – she should be! But I’ll go and see, I’m dying to tell her. Oh, I’m so happy! Give my love to Bridget and look after her.”
Another pause and she heard Rebecca click her tongue.
“I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t! I have to say it anyway – oh, it doesn’t matter. I’ll see you tomorrow and I absolutely can’t wait. Okay, I love you. Bye.”
She heard Rebecca hang up the phone and suddenly knew that news she didn’t want to hear had come and she rolled to face the wall, knowing that everything had changed forever. She had known that her mother would have the baby soon but they had promised that it wasn’t until the end of the month, which felt like an eon to India, and then her grandmother was picking her up from school with a wide smile saying that the baby had come early, and India was frightened. She wanted her mother and she didn’t want the new baby yet. She had never imagined it actually happening.
“Indy?” said Rebecca softly, coming and sitting by the bed. “Sweetheart, are you awake?”
“Mm.”
“Indy, the baby’s come!” said Rebecca, barely able to contain her excitement. “And you’ve got a brand new baby sister!”
“Sister?!” echoed India, and sat up for a moment in shock. She had not expected it to be a girl.
“Yes, it was a girl,” said Rebecca fondly and India lay back down, feeling stunned. She didn’t know what to say and rolled over again.
“Well, aren’t you happy?” asked Rebecca anxiously. “It’s a little girl – better than a smelly boy,” she added, trying to make India laugh but she didn't.
“I wanted a boy.”
“Oh?” asked Rebecca in surprise.
“I wanted a brother. I’m the girl!”
“Oh Indy, you can have more than one girl in a family. I’ve always wanted a sister – my brother drove me mad. You two are going to have such fun,” she said, patting her knee.
“She’s a baby.” India didn’t know what to say.
“When she’s a bit older then.”
“Can I see Mummy?” demanded India.
“You can tomorrow, after school.”
“I want to see Mummy now!” said India, feeling upset.
“Sweetie, she’s fine. She just needs some rest and so do you, you have school in the morning and it’s eleven o’clock now.”
“Do I have to go to school?” asked India miserably. “I don’t want to. I want to see Mummy.”
“She’ll be very happy that you missed her so much,” said Rebecca, giving her a kiss. “You do have to go to school but I promise to take you there straight afterwards. Now it’s time to get some sleep.”
“Is Mummy okay?” asked India tearfully.
“She’s fine, I’d tell you if she wasn’t. It’s late now, Indy. Get some sleep, big sister!” and Rebecca smiled, kissed her and tucked her back in. India lay staring up at the ceiling, not knowing how she felt, and suddenly she was asleep and dreaming of her mother holding the new baby but not looking at her.
“Mummy,” India said, pulling at her. “Mummy!”
But Bridget didn’t seem to hear her.
“Mummy!” exclaimed India but Bridget turned further away and then Declan was there.
“Daddy,” cried India. “Mummy can’t see me and I’m her little girl!”
“This is our little girl,” said Declan, frowning. “We don’t need you anymore,” and he turned away too, and India woke up shouting with sunlight streaming through the curtains.
India ran out in her pyjamas to see breakfast with strawberries laid out on the table.
“Good morning, big sister,” said Rebecca, smiling, and then she saw her granddaughter’s face. “What is it?”
“I had a bad dream,” mumbled India, wishing that her grandmother had not called her a big sister.
“Oh, darling,” said Rebecca, and she gave India a cuddle. “What was it about?”
“Mummy,” said India, but did not elaborate.
“Oh Indy, she’s okay. Have some breakfast and get dressed and you can see her after school. And your new sister!”
India climbed onto a chair, feeling melancholy, and poured some cornflakes into her bowl.
“Have some strawberries. Oh, was it a really horrible dream?” and India nodded.
“It wasn’t real,” said Rebecca, chucking her under the chin. “Hey? It’s all okay and so’s your mum.”
India gave a small smile.
“She is. Hey, your baby sister doesn’t even have a name yet!”
India concentrated on her cereal and Rebecca worried, but decided it must have been her nightmare and carried on cheerfully.
“Imagine not having a name! What kind of names do you like?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, you must like some names.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you can think about that today,” said Rebecca encouragingly. “Whilst you’re waiting to go to the hospital! Isn’t it exciting?”
India managed another smile and some breakfast and then went to get dressed, feeling as though she was in a daze. It had been the oddest day ever. She had finished school and run out, expecting to see her mother, but instead her grandmother was there, with a wide, anxious smile and when India had run up to see her she had hugged her and said, “Guess what, Indy? Your mummy’s in hospital having the baby!”
“What?” echoed India in disbelief. “Mummy said it wasn’t coming until the end of July and that’s ages away...she said...”
“It’s decided to come early, like you did,” said Rebecca. “Sometimes things don’t always go to plan but it’s all okay – your mummy’s at the hospital with your daddy and it’s all going to be okay. You’re going to stay with me!”
India felt confused and upset. She loved spending time with her grandmother but she wanted Bridget, wanted her mother to be the one to tell her it was all going to be okay. They went home and India stayed in her school dress as Rebecca had forgotten to pick up a change of clothes, and she practised her spelling and maths, watched television and ate a dinner of spaghetti bolognese, pushing it around her plate and feeling quiet and was unable to even eat her treat of icecream afterwards.
“What is it?” asked Rebecca softly. “Are you worried?”
“I want Mummy,” sobbed India and Rebecca hugged her and then, as she had heard her, the phone rang and it was her mother.
“Mummy,” India had sobbed and was glad to hear her mother’s voice, and though Bridget reassured and promised that everything was okay and that she would see her the next day, as did her father, India got a tight, cold, clenching feeling in her stomach and didn’t even feel comfortable at bedtime when she was tucked up in bed wearing her rabbit pyjamas with Teddy, and had had a mug of hot chocolate as a special treat.
“You might have a new brother or sister in the morning!” exclaimed Rebecca, kissing her. “Aren’t you excited?”
“I think I’m going to have a brother,” said India, and Rebecca had smiled.
“Maybe. If you’re right, I’ll buy you a sundae!”
“I’ll have a caramel one, please,” said India politely and Rebecca had laughed.
“You’re very sure.”
“I am,” said India confidently.
“If it’s a girl I get a strawberry sundae,” said Rebecca, tickling her.
“Do you think it is?”
“I don’t know, but it’s more fun this way. It doesn’t really matter to me. Goodnight, darling. I promise to wake you up if there’s any news.”
“Goodnight, Grandma,” India had said, and kissed her, and her grandmother had turned off the light. It took a long time for her to drop off, and she'd stared out into the dark room for a while, and then suddenly she had woken blearily to the phone call and got the news. India didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have any money for a sundae and wondered if her grandmother would be angry.
Rebecca drove her to school.
“I promise to pick some clothes up for you this time,” she said, kissing her at the gates, and then she saw India’s teacher and hurried over to say something to her, and the teacher looked over and smiled at India, but India looked away.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Lydia bossily, seeing her friend waiting for her grandmother.
“Nothing,” said India, not wanting to tell her for some reason.
“Why’s your grandmother dropping you off?”
“Because she is!”
“Where’s your mummy?”
“She had the baby,” said India crossly.
“It’s going to get sucky then,” said Lydia honestly. “Sorry. What was it?”
“A girl,” said India shortly and then Rebecca came back over, smiling.
“Have a good day, sweetheart.”
“What did you say to Mrs Mackenzie?”
“I just let her know what was going on,” Rebecca assured her. “You don’t need to worry about it. I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”
“Okay,” India said, and Rebecca kissed her again, and India watched her go away and disappear to her car and then all the children had to go into school. At least she wouldn’t have to talk about babies there, she thought, but as soon as everyone was sat down Mrs Mackenzie smiled and said, “India has a very special announcement to make today. India, why don’t you stand up and tell everyone your news?”
Several expectant young faces turned towards her and India scraped her chair back and stood up to look at everyone.
“My mummy had a baby,” she mumbled.
“Oh, how lovely!” beamed Mrs Mackenzie, whilst the other children just stared at her and a boy picked his nose. “Do you have a brother or a sister?”
“A sister,” said India and she gave Mrs Mackenzie a quick smile, guessing that that was what she expected. Mrs Mackenzie beamed some more and said, “How wonderful. Does she have a name?”
“No,” said India shortly and Mrs Mackenzie hesitated, as India didn’t seem willing to say much else.
“Let’s give India a big clap as she’s a big sister now! And for our Art lesson we’re going to make cards for India to give to her new baby sister!”
India sat down, furious. The baby had even taken her painting time away and she angrily made a card saying YOUR HEER in brown crayon, her least favourite colour, and a quick sketch of a baby crying.
“That’s nice, India,” said Mrs Mackenzie, in a worried voice. “Is that your baby sister?”
“Mm,” said India, colouring it in roughly and Mrs Mackenzie took her hand.
“Sweetheart, be more gentle, you’ll go through the paper.”
India stopped colouring but left her card, so the picture was half-coloured, and was in a bad mood by lunchtime.
“Your mummy’s had the baby,” announced Lydia rather uselessly. “It’s going to suck!”
“Maybe it won’t,” said India, feeling unsure.
“She won’t play with you anymore,” said Lydia confidently. “She’ll only care about the baby. I wish my mummy had had a girl though.”
“Go away, Lydia,” said India crossly, feeling fed up with everyone and Lydia got up and flounced away, her hair bouncing behind her. India saw Emily and went to talk to her instead, feeling miserable.
“Can I see the baby?” asked Emily eagerly when India came and sat down.
“It’s in the hospital.”
“Can I see it soon? Can I come round to play next week?”
“I’m busy,” said India irritably, and got up and stalked off to the other side of the playground. Emily looked hurt but then the bell rang and they all had to go back in. The rest of the day went slowly by, and all the teachers congratulated India and when Rebecca came to pick her up India ran up to her and gave her a big hug.
“Hello, sweetheart,” said Rebecca. “What’s that?” she asked, noticing the bag swinging in India’s hand.
“Baby cards.”
“Oh, how lovely!” said Rebecca. “We’ll take them to the hospital.”
“Can we go now?” begged India.
“You don’t want to get changed and have a snack?”
“No, I want to see Mummy,” said India so they drove straight there.
India felt a little nervous walking into the hospital and she held Rebecca’s hand tightly, knowing that it was a place for ill people.
“It’s all right,” soothed Rebecca, guessing how she was feeling. “Let’s go and see your mum and sister.”
They had to sign in at the desk and sit for a moment, and India felt annoyed – they were at the hospital and still she had to wait! But then a nurse came over, smiling, and led them to the maternity ward after giving them badges to wear around their neck saying VISITOR.
“They need to make big sister ones,” said the nurse cheerfully to India. “I keep telling them!”
All India could think about, however, was her mother, and Rebecca hung back for moment and let her granddaughter run over to Bridget, who was sitting in bed with the baby in a cot beside her.
“Mummy!” she cried and stumbled towards her and into her mother’s arms, and Bridget caught her and cuddled her, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.
“Oh, Indy. I missed you so much.”
“Really?” sobbed India into her mother’s hospital gown, which felt all scratchy.
“Of course I did. I missed you very much. How’s my special big girl? What are those tears for, hey?”
India removed her face from her mother’s front and looked up at Bridget, who had an anxious smile and wiped some of her tears away.
“I was scared,” mumbled India. “I wanted you.”
“I wanted you too,” said Bridget, giving her another cuddle. “I couldn’t wait to see my big girl again! Indy, you’re a big sister now. Meet your little sister!” and Bridget reached over and gently lifted her youngest daughter out from the cot, who snuffled a little but settled down in Bridget’s arms. India peered over and saw a rather red face with a couple of odd, brown curls on the top of her head.
“What do you think?” asked Bridget gently. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She’s got curls,” said India, who didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t look very beautiful to her.
“Yes, she does. She’s probably going to look like you. Indy, she looks just like you when you were born!”
“Oh,” said India and she absentmindedly touched her own hair.
“Why don’t you have a cuddle?” asked Bridget, smiling at Rebecca who was still standing in the doorway. “Come and sit on the bed with me.”
“Okay,” said India, feeling unsure, but she clambered up and Bridget placed her in her arms. She was a little heavier than India expected and she looked down at her, feeling strange. She didn’t feel like her sister yet and India could not imagine ever having looked like that.
“Look at all my girls!” said Declan, who came back carrying a cup of coffee and was grinning broadly. “I have to have a picture!”
“Oh Declan, you’ll wear that camera out,” groaned Bridget, laughing. “You’ve already used it so much today!”
“Yeah, well I need lots of photos and I definitely need one of all my girls! Indy, look up. Say cheese!” and her father snapped a photo and India’s eyes felt odd after the flash of light.
“Let me take one of all of you,” said Rebecca, coming into the room properly. “Indy, you sit between your mum and dad so the baby’s in the middle – that’s it. Okay, everyone smile. Oh, that’s a lovely one,” she said, putting the camera down and smiling.
“Come over and meet your granddaughter,” said Bridget, and she took the baby out of India’s arms and into Rebecca’s.
“Oh, you’re so precious,” whispered Rebecca, blinking back some tears. “Honestly you two, you have no idea how long work seemed to be today. It was killing me not being able to come over sooner – and Indy. She’s been begging to see you ever since I told her.”
“Excited to see her sister!” said Declan proudly but India looked down and said, “I wanted to see Mummy!”
“I wanted to see you too,” said Bridget, kissing her again. “Oh, isn’t she beautiful?” but she was talking about the baby again. “We still haven’t found a name.”
“She’s so gorgeous it’s hard to find the right one,” said Rebecca, looking back down. “So everyone came over? Oh Bridget, I’m sorry you had such a long labour.”
“Yes, they did. Thanks. It was twelve hours in the end, nearly.”
“Oh, my...”
Their talk turned to things India only vaguely understood – contractions, delivery and dilation and she looked up at her father too, who was holding the baby now, but he didn’t notice.
“What’re those?” asked Bridget, noticing the bag in Rebecca’s hand.
“They made baby cards,” said Rebecca, answering for India who was looking sullen.
“Oh, how kind – I’ll have to thank Mrs Mackenzie. Indy, is this yours?” asked Bridget, frowning, picking out the half-coloured card.
“Yes,” said India and Bridget raised her eyebrows in a Mrs Smithson-type manner and began to fear that something was up, but let it be, and instead admired the rest of the cards.
“Come on then,” said Rebecca eventually. “This one needs her dinner.”
“Can’t Daddy come too?” asked India.
“I was going to stay with your mum and sister,” said Declan awkwardly but Bridget said, “Oh Dec, you know I’m fine. You should go home tonight.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” said Declan and then Bridget thought of something.
“Tell you what - how about you take Indy out for dinner as it’s such a special day?”
“Are you okay by yourself?” asked Declan anxiously and Bridget scoffed, but not unkindly.
“We’re fine!”
“I can stay with Bridget,” offered Rebecca. “And we can have a girly catch-up – oh Dec, it’s fine, I can eat something when I get back. Enjoy some Daddy-daughter time.”
“Okay,” said Declan anxiously. “If you’re sure...”
“Go!” said Bridget, laughing, and he kissed the baby again and handed her back to Bridget. India took hold of his hand and they walked out of the hospital and to a small, local restaurant.
“Order whatever you want,” said Declan, too exhausted to remember any rules they had for eating out.
“Really?” asked India in disbelief, but she chose the same thing she had normally all the same, as it was her favourite. Declan ordered a plate of nachos and ate them absentmindedly and India frowned at him, barely eating her chicken and fries.
“Did you miss me, Daddy?”
“What? Yes, of course I did,” he said, but didn’t sound very enthusiastic. “I missed you very much.”
“School sucked,” said India but Declan was falling asleep.
“That’s good, India,” he said and India scowled. “Isn’t your sister beautiful?” he asked suddenly, a smile breaking out over his tired face.
“I guess.”
“Two little girls,” said Declan and he put his arm around her. “You’ve got a little sister!”
“Yeah,” said India, biting a fry and Declan mistook her silence for worry about her mother.
“Mummy’s fine now and she’s coming home in a few days. Eat up, Indy, we should get back soon. I miss your sister already!”
India felt thoroughly annoyed by the time they returned to the hospital and began to believe what Lydia had said before, even though Declan reluctantly promised to come home that night, and she sadly kissed her mother goodbye.
“I miss you already,” said Bridget, stroking her hair. “But I’ll see you tomorrow. Say goodbye to your sister!”
“Bye,” said India dispassionately to her and the adults laughed, which made her cross, and she still felt cross when Rebecca treated her to a sundae.
“Why do I get a sundae?” asked India, as her grandmother ordered her a caramel one.
“It’s celebrating you being a big sister!”
“But I guessed wrong! I don’t have any money,” fretted India. “I can’t buy your one!”
To her surprise Rebecca laughed.
“Poor Indy, did you believe that I wouldn’t get you a sundae because you guessed wrong? I can buy myself one, it was only a game,” and though India had her caramel sundae she couldn’t enjoy it and though she heard her father come home late that night she did not feel happy and thought, as she stared up at the ceiling in the unfamiliar bedroom, that she was tired of her little sister already.
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Post by Bee on Oct 10, 2010 21:12:35 GMT
poor Indy!!
I cant wait for more Sophie!!
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Post by smilelino on Oct 11, 2010 6:59:37 GMT
Lovely 2 last updates. Very well written the birth. Poor Indy, i do understand how hard it is for her. love reading this fic.
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Post by sophie on Oct 14, 2010 1:20:58 GMT
Thanks! I'm glad the birth seemed realistic, I obviously have no experience of that myself and based it off things that I have read and seen.
Bridget lay exhausted in the bed, holding her new daughter. The baby had been weighed and cleaned up and now she lay in a blanket in Bridget’s arms. Declan had held her for a while and they had simply sat in silence, not needing to say anything, but finally he had smiled and handed her back to Bridget. The baby snuffled and settled against Bridget’s chest, her eyes shut.
“I guess you should give everyone the news." said Bridget finally. "They must be dying to know.”
“Yeah,” said Declan, smiling, and he kissed the baby and went out to find that dying to know was a serious understatement.
“Is Bridget okay?” demanded Miranda, leaping to her feet. “What is it? What do we have?”
“Didge is fine,” said Declan with a grin. “It’s a girl!”
Everyone shrieked and Miranda threw her arms around Steve who looked like he would burst with happiness.
“It’s a girl!” she squealed. “It’s a girl!”
“Can we go in and see her?” asked Steve anxiously and Declan looked to the nurse, uncertain, but she gave a smile and nod. Steve, Riley and Miranda hurried in whilst the others hung back, knowing that Bridget would want to be with her family alone.
“Hey darling,” said Miranda softly, coming in.
“Hey Mum,” said Bridget with an exhausted smile.
“Meet your new granddaughter.”
“Hello,” said Miranda, letting a few tears fall down her cheeks. “Oh, you’re so beautiful. Well done, Bridget. I’m so proud of you.”
“I think she did it more than me.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” said Miranda. “You did everything, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay?”
“Just tired. The doctor gave me some painkillers.”
“Does she have a name?” asked Steve, who had his arm around Bridget.
“No, not yet,” confessed Bridget. “We didn’t even discuss names, really. Nothing’s come to mind and we had enough trouble finding India’s.”
“You’ll need to bring out the name board again,” teased Steve and Bridget gave him a weak shove and rolled her eyes.
“I can’t believe how tiny she is,” whispered Miranda, tracing her finger over the baby’s tiny hand.
“She was six pounds seven ounces,” Declan told her proudly. “A bit bigger than India was.”
“And believe me, you could tell,” winced Bridget. “I’m surprised it wasn’t more! I can’t believe how small she is.”
“She’s gorgeous,” said Miranda, and she handed her to Steve, who gave the baby a gruff smile and Bridget smiled, knowing that look. It was the look he had when he was trying not to cry and felt emotional.
“What do you think of her, Dad?”
“She’s perfect,” he said roughly, giving a sniff. “Didge, she’s just so beautiful. Well done.”
“Good going, sis,” said Riley gently, and he smiled at his little sister, hardly believing that she was old enough to have had another baby.
“Thanks Ri,” said Bridget, smiling at her big brother, and Steve let him hold her. “Say hello to your niece!”
“She’s amazing,” he said, holding her awkwardly. “She’s just amazing.”
Miranda, Steve and Riley stayed a little longer and finally agreed to go home to bed.
“We’ll come back tomorrow,” they promised, gave the baby a kiss and Bridget one too and left, Miranda looking longingly back over her shoulder as they went through the door.
“Just wait,” said Miranda to Donna, as they went back to the waiting room. “She’s the most beautiful baby in the world!”
“Does that mean we can go and see her?” asked Donna eagerly, and the nurse nodded, and though Donna walked normally to the door, she ran through when the nurse wasn’t looking.
“Donna!” hissed Zeke. “You’re not meant to run!” but she simply stuck her tongue out at him and hurried through.
“Hey, babe!” she cried when she saw Bridget, and looked down and said softly, “and hey, baby. Baby girl! Oh Didge, she’s so gorgeous! You can just tell she’s going to be a stunner.”
“Really?” asked Bridget, smiling.
“Of course. She’ll be a heartbreaker one day!”
“I don’t want to think about my baby with boyfriends,” Declan said firmly. “Either of my babies!”
“Oh, relax, Dec,” said Donna, coming and perching on the edge of the bed and giving Bridget a kiss. “Well done, Didge.”
“Have a hold,” said Bridget, and she gently passed the baby over to Donna, who held her awkwardly for a moment and then relaxed and smiled.
“She’s so perfect.”
“I know.”
Donna cuddled her for a little while and then handed the baby to Zeke, with a smile.
“She’s gorgeous, Didge. Well done, guys.”
“Congratulate Didge, she’s the one who did all!” said Declan and Bridget grinned and added, “Don’t worry, you can pay it back by changing her nappies!”
Everyone laughed but didn’t stay for much longer as they could tell how tired Bridget and Declan were, Bridget in particular, and it was late. Zeke gave the baby back to Bridget who took her gratefully.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” they promised, and left them alone. Bridget waved sadly to them and then smiled at Declan.
“It feels so crazy,” he said honestly.
“I know.”
“Are you okay?” he asked anxiously.
“The pain’s worn away a bit, I’m just so tired, but I’m wired at the same time, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” he said, and gave her a kiss. “Well, you must be going back to your room soon.”
“I am. The nurse told me when you went out to tell everyone that I’m moving back as soon as they think it's okay. Oh,” as the nurse came over, “it might be now.”
It was and Bridget was wheeled back, still holding the baby, and eased into her own bed.
“I can’t believe that when I was last in here she wasn’t,” she said, looking down.
“Me neither,” said Declan, smiling. “I still can’t quite believe she is here.”
“No, me neither. Have you rung Rebecca?”
“No, not yet. I should, I guess.”
“Of course you should. Oh Dec, I can’t wait to tell Indy,” said Bridget with a grin. “I mean, I know I won’t be the one to tell her she has a sister but I can’t wait to introduce them.”
“Me neither,” said Declan, grinning. “She’s going to be so happy.”
He went out to make the call and Bridget rocked her daughter a little, who was beginning to squeak again, and Bridget felt worried. She didn’t know what to do if the baby started crying but to her utter relief the baby settled against her chest and slept again, still curled up in her pre-birth position.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” whispered Bridget, and she allowed herself to relax a little, and then she realised how tired she was.
"How was Rebecca?” Bridget asked as Declan came back in.
His face split into a grin.
"Over the moon, of course. Indy's in bed but she told me couldn't wait to tell her. We'll see her tomorrow."
"Oh, good," said Bridget happily, but Declan heard the exhaustion in her voice.
“Didge, you look exhausted,” said Declan, frowning. “Do you want to get some sleep?”
“I am pretty tired,” admitted Bridget. “But I can’t imagine sleeping.
“I can stay with you.”
“Where?” asked Bridget, frowning. “This is a single bed.”
“I’ll sleep out in the waiting room.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” said Bridget anxiously. “You should go home – you must be exhausted too.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” said Declan.
“But I’m okay.”
“No, I don’t want to go.”
“Could you sleep on the bed with me?” suggested Bridget, but there wasn’t room.
“I’ll be out in the waiting room,” insisted Declan. “I’ve got a blanket, it’s fine,” and he kissed her and left her and the baby alone.
“Well,” said Bridget fondly to her. “It’s just you and me but your daddy’s outside.”
The baby stretched out an arm and Bridget felt some tears come, and she wondered, as she had with India, how she and Declan had managed to make something so pure and beautiful. Her eyes were clamped shut but for a moment they opened, allowing Bridget to see some startling blue, and then her daughter shut them again. “Your eyes are like mine,” whispered Bridget, letting some tears fall. They fell onto her face and Bridget gently brushed them away, marvelling at how soft her daughter’s skin was, and then she gently put the baby into her cot that was next to her bed and tried to sleep. For a while she couldn’t, feeling too anxious, and she kept peering into the cot to ensure that her little girl was okay, but then she suddenly fell into a deep, dark sleep without dreams, which was punctured suddenly by a strange noise, and Bridget opened her eyes to the dark room and realised that it was her baby crying.
“Shh,” she whispered, switching the light on and lifting her wailing daughter out of the cot. “Shh. What is it? Are you hungry?” and she unsurely undid her gown, feeling a little worried. The nurse had quickly refreshed her on what to do, and Bridget knew that she could call her if she had trouble, but she didn’t want to and lifted her daughter to her breast, with some old, buried remembrance emerging and her daughter cried a little more and then started to suckle and Bridget felt exhausted but more relieved than anything. It felt strange to be breastfeeding again. She sat, half asleep, until she had stopped and then winded her. Bridget held her a little longer and then placed her back in her cot and turned the light off but suddenly she started crying again and Bridget began to panic.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered, feeling frightened. “I’ve just fed you and you’re still dry. What is it?” and she got up and walked around the room with her, singing under her breath, but she still cried and Bridget finally went into the waiting room, not knowing what else to do. Declan was fast asleep but he woke up when he heard her cries.
“What? What’s up?” he asked blearily.
“She’s crying and I don’t know why!” exclaimed Bridget tearfully and Declan took her and rubbed her back and then, out of nowhere her cries ceased.
“She just wanted her daddy,” he said fondly.
“Maybe,” said Bridget, feeling lost, and she sat with him for a little longer and then took her daughter back to her room, and could not help worrying about what she would do if Declan wasn’t there. Thankfully she slept for the rest of the night and only cried once in the morning but it was only for a feed and nappy change.
“Didge, we’ve really got to find her a name,” said Declan, holding his daughter.
“I know,” sighed Bridget. “And it was hard enough finding Indy’s.”
“How about Asia?” Declan asked, half-joking.
“If we call her Asia, people will think we’re trying to be funny,” said Bridget. “Like we’re trying to make some sort of pattern – they’ll probably ask us when we’re going to have China for something. India’s name is special and it wouldn’t be as special if we called her sister Asia.”
“Okay, you’re right,” agreed Declan. “I wasn’t really being serious anyway. There’s heaps of other girls’ names. How about Rose? Or Lily?”
Bridget made a face.
“They’re pretty, but I just don’t like flower names,” she said apologetically. “They’re so girly. They make me think of Mum trying to make me into a girly girl when I was little.”
“Okay, forget flower names. Hey, how about your mum?” and when Bridget looked at him questioningly he said, “We could name her after someone in the family. It doesn’t have to be Miranda or Rebecca. How about Olivia? Riley’s unisex, I guess. Stephanie?” he teased and when Bridget looked dismissive he said, “The last one was a joke!”
“I don’t want to give her a family name,” said Bridget in frustration, looking down. “I’m sorry. I just want her to have her own name, something she can really call her own that belongs to her, like India’s does. I want it to have meaning, though. I’m sorry, I know I’m making it difficult.”
“No,” said Declan heavily, coming and sitting down on the bed. “I don’t really like those names either. Oh, why did she have to be a girl?” he joked. “We’ve already found the only girl’s name we could use!”
“Declan!”
“It was a joke!” he exclaimed as his wife looked murderous. “It was a joke! Don’t hurt me Didge, I’m holding the baby!” and Bridget laughed, but then there was a soft knock at the door and it was Zeke and Donna. “Hey guys,” said Didge fondly and Declan handed the baby to Donna, who looked over the moon.
“Oh, I just don’t want to give her back!” exclaimed Donna, holding her, and after their looks, she added, “Oh come on, you know that was just a joke!”
“I’m going to get some coffee,” Declan said and Zeke added, “I’ll come too,” and they left the women alone. Bridget and Donna were silent for a moment and then Donna suddenly asked, “Was it awful?” in a low voice. “Giving birth?”
“Never again!” winced Bridget. “I know that’s what everyone says, but I mean it, never, ever again. It’s worth it – it’s so worth it – but never again!”
“I don’t know if I could ever do it.”
“If I did it, you can.”
“I don’t know,” said Donna, looking down.
“Do you know what Declan said?” asked Bridget, rolling her eyes.
“What?”
“He said I was breaking his hand!” exclaimed Bridget and Donna burst into laughter.
“I’d have threatened to break his face!”
“I practically said the same thing,” giggled Bridget. “I didn’t find it very funny at the time though. God Donna, it’s the worst pain the world. Oh, shh,” as the laughter seemed to have disturbed the baby and she gave a few splutters and a wail, but then settled back down.
“She’s not crying much, is she?”
“Not yet,” said Bridget softly. “She cried for a bit when I gave birth to her, obviously, but she hasn’t really cried since then, apart from last night when she wanted a feed. Somehow I remembered what to do but then she started crying again. Declan calmed her down, thank God. I’m just hoping it won’t be an India situation where she’s fine until we take her home and then she’ll start and won’t stop. I bet it will be like that. Oh, but I can’t wait to bring her home and introduce India to her!” she said, her eyes sparkling, and then the boys came back in and Donna reluctantly gave the baby to Zeke, who grinned and looked down at her.
“It feels so weird holding a newborn again.”
“That’s how I felt holding Theo,” said Bridget. “When I was pregnant. Oh, that feels strange to say – when I was pregnant. I keep thinking that I am; I’m still in that mindset. I keep forgetting that it’s over.”
“Do you think you and Jess will ever have any more kids?” asked Donna and Zeke looked a bit terrified.
“No. I don’t know. Not for a while, if we do. You know, when we got engaged we had this plan, four children, one after the other, two boys and two girls ideally and now I’m wondering what the hell we were thinking. It’s hard enough with one and all I can think about is when I’m going to get to sleep through the night again, and now he can crawl and my heart is constantly going like crazy when he sets off on these little missions around the house. I love him to death, but God, I can’t ever imagine having another child. Maybe one day, a long, long way away. Part of me still thinks it would be a shame if he never had a sibling.”
“Well, we didn’t plan this,” said Bridget honestly, looking down at her daughter. “I’m not sorry for a second but if it hadn’t happened I don’t know if we would chosen to have any more children. Maybe when India was older, but I doubt it. Like you say, it’s hard enough with one.”
There was a thoughtful silence for a moment and Donna burst out with, “I bet Indy will be the cutest big sister ever! They’re going to be the cutest sisters around!"
“I hope so,” said Bridget, smiling.
“Oh, how could she not?” crooned Donna, leaning over to see the baby. “How could she not love you?”
“We still need a name,” sighed Bridget when she was back in her arms.
“How about Sapphire?” suggested Donna and they all gave her a look. “What?” she asked defensively.
“It sounds a bit tacky, don’t you reckon?”
“No!” cried Donna but they all shook their heads. Donna offered a few more crazy suggestions of Gemini, Flower and Mercedes but it was when she offered Moonbeam that they put their foot down and said that she couldn’t suggest any more.
“I think she would hate us for life if we called her that,” said Declan. “And honestly, I wouldn’t blame her.”
“Oh, fine,” said Donna huffily. “I think it’s better than Crystal though!”
Zeke and Donna stayed for a little longer and Declan took some photos but then they had to head to work. Miranda, Steve and Riley came back for another cuddle, and Declan took about a hundred more pictures, and then they had lunch and left.
In the afternoon Rebecca and India came. Bridget had never felt so happy to see her little girl in her life and she hugged her tightly, too happy to think of much else, but she wondered for a moment if India was happy. She looked upset and Bridget thought at first that it was because she had missed her mother, but then she handed her a half-coloured card for her sister, in colours that India disliked and Bridget worried, but then Declan was taking her out of dinner and she sat with Rebecca.
“How are you feeling?” her mother-in-law asked.
Bridget hesitated, her mouth open to give a ready response that she was okay, but she suddenly found herself saying, “Honestly, it feels like I’ve been run over.”
Rebecca laughed but not in a mocking way.
“That’s exactly how I felt when I had Oliie and Declan. All I wanted to do was sleep but I had visitor after visitor after visitor and then the boys cried so much and I wanted to cry too. I did, as well. I felt exhausted for weeks. It’s a stupid question to ask, really, how a woman feels after having a baby but we all ask it anyway, and then we feel that we have to say that we’re okay. I never felt so terrible in all my life.”
“Thank you,” said Bridget gratefully. “I’m so glad it’s not just me. I’ll be right though, once I get home. I hope so, anyway. How’s my girl been? My big girl?”
“Missing you,” said Rebecca with a smile. “She was surprised, you know. She thought it would be a boy.”
“Is she happy?” asked Bridget anxiously.
“I’m sure she is,” said Rebecca kindly. “She’s just seems sad because she was so worried for you. You have a very loving little girl.”
“I know,” said Bridget fondly and, looking down at her baby, “I have two now.”
They talked for longer about how it had been when Declan was born and how Rebecca had felt and then said man came back with India, and was surprised when they stared at him.
“You gave me some real grief!” said Rebecca, laughing and he looked confused. Rebecca and India stayed for a little longer and Bridget and Rebecca talked him into going home that night.
“India needs you too,” said Bridget, when they had gone. “I’m fine. You go home and get some real sleep.”
“Okay, but not for a while,” said Declan, rocking his youngest daughter gently and evening drew in.
As night came in Declan looked thoughtful.
“What?” asked Bridget, rubbing her daughter’s back gently. She had just fed and burped her.
“I’ve thought of a name. It’s not totally original and you’ll probably hate it –“
“Dec, what is it?”
“I thought we could call her Louise,” he said shyly, looking at her. “I know it’s not as special as India or as unusual, but it’s pretty, isn’t it? And it’s your middle name so it has a kind of meaning. I know you didn’t want a family name, but it’s not the first thing people will think of. No one else has it as a first name. I’ll understand if you hate it though,” he added quickly but Bridget looked thoughtful too and then she smiled.
“Louise,” she whispered, looking down at her daughter. “Is your name Louise?”
She wriggled a little and then settled and opened her eyes briefly at her mother and Bridget knew she looked at her.
“I think that’s her name,” she said, grinning widely.
“You like it then?” said Declan anxiously, making sure and she smiled at him.
“Of course I do! It’s beautiful! Louise,” she said again, trying it out. “Hi there, Louise!”
“We’ll call her Louise,” said Declan tentatively and Bridget stood and gave her to him.
“Hello Louise,” he said to her and Louise settled against her chest, breathing softly.
“It’s perfect,” said Bridget, giving him a kiss and the baby one too. “I knew you could find a name. How did you think of it?”
“I don’t know,” said Declan, smiling down at her. “It just came to me. I don’t think I could find any more though – and definitely not another girl’s!”
“You’re not sorry at all, are you?” Bridget found herself asking and Declan frowned.
“Sorry for what?”
“Sorry that we’ve got another girl and not a boy?”
“Of course not!” exclaimed Declan, looking down at her. “She’s so perfect, how could I be? I’m not disappointed at all.”
Bridget smiled fondly at him and they were quiet for a moment. Bridget thought of something and laughed.
“What?”
“Oh, Declan Napier,” she giggled. “One day you’ll have two teenage daughters!”
Declan groaned.
“I’ve changed my mind, I wish she’d been a boy!” he exclaimed, but he laughed and Bridget knew he was joking.
“Well,” she said, when he had finally gone home and the stars and moon were shining outside. “You weren’t born at a music festival or at the side of a road and you ended up being born at a boring old hospital. But you know, it isn’t boring. This is just as special. It’s just as incredible.”
Bridget leant down and gave Louise a kiss.
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