Page 111 of The Last Train Home
She picks up Abbie’s baby and wraps a blanket over her, now that she’s not under the lamp. Her little umbilical cord is clamped and bandaged, and she’s wearing a small white hat and nappy. It occurs to me that Abbie doesn’t have anything here for the baby, and so her little girl is wearing things donated by the hospital.
‘Would you like to sit down and feed her?’
‘Am I allowed?’ I ask stupidly.
‘Yes, we’ll be here to help.’
‘OK.’ I sit down in a large pleather chair, and a tiny bundle of warmth is placed in my arms. ‘Hi there,’ I say softly and stare at this little thing that Abbie worked so hard at. ‘Your mum’s a bit busy at the moment, but she’ll be here soon and then you can start giving her merry hell. Until then, it’s me, I’m afraid.’
The baby is still; her eyes flicker open and she looks at me, begins crying.
‘Girls always react like that to me,’ I joke.
The midwife smiles, hands me a little bottle of warm milk. ‘She only needs a bit for now, and then it’s back under the lamp for her.’
I nod, tip it up, making sure there’s no air in the teat, remembering all of this from when Teddy was a baby. It doesn’t feel that long ago really. The baby settles in with the bottle, sucking milk down eagerly.
‘Have you thought of any names?’ the midwife asks conversationally.
I blink. ‘It’s not my place to think of names. Abbie’s not … she’s not my … we’re not together.’
‘Ah, I see,’ the midwife replies as if she understands, and then she clearly doesn’t, because she prompts, ‘I heard you say you loved her, and so I presumed …’
‘Yeah,’ I say slowly after a few seconds. ‘I forgot I’d said that. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t the time or the place.’
‘It was probably both the timeandthe place,’ the midwife replies. ‘But if it’s any consolation, I don’t think she heard you.’
‘I don’t think she heard me, either. She was a bit busy passing out.’
The baby finishes her bottle and the midwife instructs me to wind her. I place her up near my shoulder and rub her back, the way I used to do with Teddy. It’s all coming back to me now. A little burp emanates from this tiny little thing, and the midwife takes her and puts her in the crib and the lamp goes back on. I stand there, watching her little face as she puckers her mouth, and then the expression on her face rests.
‘She’s so beautiful,’ I say. I’m completely mesmerised by Abbie’s baby.
The second midwife pops her head round the door as I stare at the baby.
‘Abbie’s awake.’
Chapter 68
Abbie
Tom stands at the door of the side-room where I’ve been placed.
The midwives have been so wonderful, making me comfortable, bringing me my baby. My baby. It feels so strange to think I have a baby. She’s tiny, so adorable. I can’t believe I grew her.
I’m holding her in my arms.
‘She’s beautiful,’ Tom says, standing at the door with his hands in his pockets.
‘Are you coming in?’ I ask and he moves towards me, pulls the chair out next to the bed and sits down, gazing at us both.
‘Jackie says you’ve already had a cuddle and a feed,’ I say.
‘Who’s Jackie?’
The midwife who spent most of last night and the early hours of the morning with us gives him a look.
‘Sorry,’ he says, shamefaced. ‘I was a bit busy worrying Abbie might be dead to be asking people for their names.’
