Page 59 of Escape for Christmas
‘That’s probably the best place for them,’ Sophie said.
She opened the door to the sitting room. ‘It’s OK,’ she said, seeing the two children curled up on her sofa under a blanket, wide-eyed in shock.
Pete knelt beside the sofa. ‘Mummy will be fine. Everyone’s going to help her and the baby. You’ll have a new little sister soon.’
A loud wail cut through the crack in the bedroom door. ‘Pete! Please do something. I’m not sure baby’s going to wait around!’
‘She had these two pretty quickly,’ Pete murmured to Sophie. ‘We thought that was a good thing, but now …’ His colour seemed to drain from him before her eyes.
Sophie opened the door, to see Anna on all fours on the bed, and felt a bit sick. She clenched her hand tightly by her side to try and stop her fingers from trembling and attempted to take a deep breath.
What if the baby was born in her bed? How would they cope with delivering it? Weren’t there cords to be cut – andstuffto be dealt with? Having wanted a family herself, Sophie still had no knowledge of precisely what went on during or after the birth. She’d parked the messier details for a later date, like leaving your tax return until an hour before the deadline.
Didn’t labour go on for ages anyway? She prayed that the ambulance would arrive before any of them had to deal with it. She might have to multitask in running a guest house, but delivering a baby was one job she’d never planned for.
Pete rushed to Anna’s side and rubbed her back. ‘Help’s on the way, sweetheart,’ he promised. ‘Try not to worry.’
‘I’ll go and see what’s happening with the emergency services,’ Sophie said. ‘And explain the urgency.’ She hurried into the hallway, feeling as scared as the kids had looked. No amount of planning could ever have prepared her for the emergency unfolding in front of her.
Amber was on the stairs. ‘What’s going on?’ she said, looking worried.
Nico appeared in the door to the guest lounge, glass in hand. ‘Apparently someone’s about to give birth.’
Before Sophie could reply, Anna let out another scream and everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY
‘Hello, my friends. At least I’m not the spawn of the Devil, with you lot.’
Brody sighed, paying his second visit of the evening to the stable. He’d fed the donkey and sheep earlier and all were munching together happily in their pen. It was bloody freezing. Despite his Barbour, woolly scarf and beanie hat, he was chilled to the bone. The icy wind cut into his face, chilled by the snow that lay a foot high where it had drifted into corners of the yard. He pitied anyone who was out in such conditions. Only the hardy Herdwicks could withstand this weather, and he feared for a few of those.
As he looked over towards the farmhouse, he noted there was a light on in the bedroom. Tegan was clearly still awake. Well, it was only just past 10 p.m.
‘What a bloody mess,’ he muttered, stroking Gabe’s neck. ‘Sometimes I wish I was a donkey.’
Gabe carried on eating, oblivious to Brody’s dilemma.
‘You’re a man of few words, aren’t you, buddy?’ Brody said. ‘And you know what? In this situation it’s probably best to say as little as possible.’ He talked to the animals a while longer, making sure they were comfortable, then closed the stable doors.
While he’d been inside, the snow had started to fall a little less heavily and the wind had dropped a bit, at least temporarily. The skies had cleared and a full moon illuminated a vast expanse of glittering white, stretching as far as he could see.
When he’d last dared to look at it, Sunnyside resembled a storybook gingerbread house, its roof and gables thickly iced with white. Lights illuminated the windows and fairy lanterns glimmered in the garden. Was anyone crazy enough to be in the hot tub? Was that a snatch of music he could hear, when the wind dropped?
How he wished he was there, eating tapas and watching the flamenco dancers with Sophie. Maybe she was twirling around the floor now, laughing and out of breath. He hoped so, and that she was having fun. The last thing he wanted was for her to spend another Christmas feeling hurt.
Back inside, he hung up his coat, intending to warm himself by the fire, but raised voices from upstairs made him linger in the hallway. One was Tegan’s and the other was that of a man on speakerphone. Brody could only hear snatches, but Tegan sounded agitated and upset. Was it her father on the other end, or had something happened? Brody’s stomach knotted. He hoped her dad was OK. He really liked Alan and Fiona, Tegan’s parents. He’d known them for ever because of them being friends with his parents, which was yet another reason why he’d gone along with the whole charade, and he desperately wanted Alan to recover.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs, Brody strained hisears. Tegan’s room was the first off the landing and her door must be ajar for the sound to carry.
‘Why are you being like this?’ Tegan’s voice ramped up in volume. That didn’t sound like a reply to a father. She was definitely worked up about something.
Brody crept further up the stairs. Their creaking would have given him away, had Tegan made any effort to keep her voice down. He could now hear her every word and most of those from her male caller, who had an American accent.
‘No, he can’t hear me. He’s gone out to feed the animals.’
Brody didn’t quite catch the reply but he did hear Tegan’s response.
‘Don’t be sarcastic, Wes. Brody’s a lovely man and he’s a veterinarian. Of course he loves his animals.’
