I shook my head. “I’ve got to go.”
The midwife frowned over a crossword in the living room, ignoring me as I hurried past her to the front door. Alex put his hand on my arm as I stepped outside, and I swung back to him, assuming he was going to say good-bye.
“Do you think I should ring Dominic?” he asked.
I gave an involuntary laugh and turned my back on him, stumbling on the uneven path. I crossed to the shady side of the lane and began the long trudge back to Summerbourne. My eyes stung, my throat hurt, and my whole body ached. I would probably never see Alex again, and he didn’t even care.
The taps were running clear when I eventually got back, despite the plumber not finding a cause for the earlier discoloration. Edwin and Joel were playing an elaborate game involving the sandpit and the paddling pool, and Ruth beckoned me to join her in the shade on the patio. The apricot tree by the kitchen window was heavy with fruit, and a freshly picked bowlful lay on the table between us.
“Well? What did he say?”
I sank my teeth into a sun-warmed apricot and wiped juice from my chin before replying. “Nothing really.”
“Is he going to do it? Agree to my terms?”
“I don’t know.”
She huffed. “I thought you’d have some kind of answer for me, Laura.”
“I gave him the letter. I tried... If you want to know what he thinks, you’ll have to talk to him yourself. I’m sorry.”
I threw my fruit stone into a flower bed and stalked off to the annex. Inside the top drawer of my desk, tucked between sheets of notes for studying, was the resignation letter I had so carefully written and not yet dated. I decided I would wait until Dominic arrived home on Friday evening at the start of his annual leave, tell them both then, and leave on Saturday morning. It would be less painful than a protracted good-bye, as far as Edwin was concerned. Deep down, I knew that I had to get home. No matter how displeased Mum and Beaky were going to be, I needed that sanctuary away from the people here.
When Ruth knocked lightly on my door that evening, I hurried to open it, not wanting her to step inside and notice that I’d already packed the books from my shelves.
“Would you be a darling and put Edwin to bed for me?” she asked. “I’m getting lots of Braxton Hicks. I’d like to lie down and see if they’ll ease off.”
“Sure. I’ll be up in five minutes.”
Edwin wore his new pale blue pajamas, given to him by Vera the previous week. He had managed to do all the buttons up without help and was pleased with himself. He knelt on his duvet and wrapped his arms around my neck, burying his face into my hair, and we had a long cuddle without saying anything. I sat by his side after his story, stroking his hand until he fell asleep.
In all the time I’d lived at Summerbourne, I’d never locked my annex door, and this was the first night anyone ever came in and woke me up.
“Laura.”
I dragged my mind up out of a deep sleep. Ruth was shaking my shoulder, her face looming round and pale above me.
“Laura. I need you. It’s started.”
My whole body trembled. I dragged my dressing gown on and stuffed my feet into my slippers, frightened thoughts rattling through my mind. I was astonished when I realized that Ruth’s mood was one of suppressed excitement. She turned lamps on in the day nursery and laid towels on one of the sofas, pausing to close her eyes and breathe through a contraction every couple of minutes. My feelings about Ruth had ranged from admiration to frustration over the preceding eleven months, but in the early hours of that morning, I was awestruck by her composure.
Her self-assurance calmed the buzzing of my nerves, and after a while I fell into a rhythm to match hers. Between her contractions we chatted about inconsequential matters, sometimes exchanging stories of funny things Edwin had said, making each other smile. As each new muscle spasm began to build, she turned her focus inward, and I breathed along with her, my own abdomen tightening in sympathy.
The night sky was shading into pink when she announced she needed to push. The atmosphere in the room slid into something urgent I wanted to escape from.
“Let me call someone,” I said. “I can’t do this.”
She buried her nails into my arm. “You have to,” she hissed. “It’s coming.”
It was the last coherent thing she said for a while. She knelt on the sofa, holding on to the back of it, and I paced up and down behind her, fighting the urge to open the door and run.As her vocalizations grew louder, I picked up a towel. There was nobody else. I had to do this.
The head came first, and after another push the rest of the baby followed: pink and long and lean, all slimy and slippery. I caught it with my towel and fumbled, laying the bundle on the floor while Ruth sagged down onto the sofa. She held her arms out wordlessly, and I scooped the towel and its contents up and placed them in her arms.
“It’s a girl,” she breathed. She wiped the little face, and a single tear slid down her cheek. “She’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.”
The baby’s eyes were open, her chest rising and falling gently. I could see nothing of Alex in her round face, her rosy skin. Her tiny lips parted repeatedly, but no sound emerged.
“Are you hungry, baby?” Ruth said.
