Page 16 of The Winter Bride

Annie kept her eyes fixed on Eve, her heart pounding, while Eve grasped her hands. After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, she gave one more enormous push and the sound of a newborn’s wails echoed around the room.

‘Well done.’ The midwife held the baby aloft. ‘Congratulations, luvvie. You’ve got yerself a beautiful daughter an’ she a little cracker.’

Miraculously all the pain and the fear of losing another baby was suddenly forgotten as the nurse cut the cord, wrapped the infant in a towel and laid her on her mother’s chest. Both Annie and Eve stared at the baby in awe. Just as the midwife had said, she was a little beauty, with a shock of downy dark hair the exact same colour as her dad’s.

‘Oh, she looks just like Jack when he was born,’ Eve said tearfully as she rained kisses down on her new daughter. ‘What do you think o’ her, Annie?’

‘I think she’s absolutely gorgeous,’ Annie answered in a choked voice. This had been an experience she would never forget. ‘Would you like me to go and tell Davey he has a daughter?’

‘Yes, please.’ Eve’s eyes were still fastened on the new arrival.

‘But tell ’im I don’t want ’im up here fer a while,’ Nurse Borne ordered sternly. ‘I’ve the afterbirth to deliver yet, then I want to make mother and baby respectable before Dad comes to meet ’er. The birthin’ room is no place fer a man!’

Annie nodded and slipped away.

Davey and Monty were staring anxiously at the door when she burst into the kitchen.

‘It’s a little girl, a sister for Jack, and she’s just lovely,’ she told them joyously and promptly burst into tears. It had been a very emotional night one way and another.

On the way home, Annie leant heavily on Monty. She was exhausted and could hardly wait to get into her own bed.

‘It’ll be our turn soon,’ Monty told her with a loving smile, and she nodded as again a little trickle of guilt flowed through her.

Chapter Eight

The sale of the house was finalised in early August and suddenly there didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day. Annie was either working in the shop – which was doing very well now – or buying stock, and in the evenings, she was packing up their belongings ready for the move.

‘Just wait until we move into our new home. You’ll have your own big garden to play in,’ she told Alfred one night as she packed some pots and pans. Alfred enthusiastically licked her face in reply. He was now a cuddly bundle of fur who followed Annie around like a shadow, and she couldn’t imagine being without him.

The day of the move dawned bright and sunny. Monty had organised a van to transport their possessions, and by lunchtime everything had been unloaded, ready to be put away. The house felt enormous to Annie who had become accustomed to the limited space in the rooms above the shop, and she kept wandering out into the garden with Alfred leaping at her feet.

‘We’ll go shopping for some new furniture next week,’ Monty promised. ‘And I shall be making a start on the nursery too.’ He was besotted with Eve and Davey’s new daughter, who had been called Rachel, and he could hardly wait for their own child to be born.

Late in the afternoon, Monty’s father’s car drew to a halt outside and he groaned as he saw his parents walking up the path to the front door.

‘I wondered how long it would be before they came to be nosy,’ he muttered despondently.

‘It could have been worse; Reggie could have come with them,’ she said, trying to cheer him up.

Mrs Taylor-Lloyd swept in with her nose in the air and stared around at the almost empty room.

‘Hmm, I see there’s plenty to be done,’ she said sarcastically.

Annie smiled sweetly at her. ‘Yes, there is, but as Monty pointed out, we have all the time in the world to make it our own.’

‘So long as that shrapnel in his chest doesn’t move,’ his mother snapped. ‘I would have thought you could have found somewhere that was all done to save him making himself ill.’

‘I have no intentions of doing that,’ Monty assured her evenly, but a muscle in his cheek was twitching as he tried to control his temper. His mother could always rub him up the wrong way, especially since he had married Annie. She still hadn’t said a single kind word about his wife. ‘Actually, I have already booked decorators to come in and make a start next week. But now that you’re here would you like a cup of tea?’

‘Very well . . . if it isn’t too much trouble.’

Alfred ran around Mrs Taylor-Lloyd with his tail wagging and she stared at him with distaste. ‘But could you put this . . . mongrel outside, please. I don’t want him biting me.’

‘Alfred hasn’t got a bite in him,’ Monty assured her, but Annie lead him by his collar out to play in the garden just the same.

‘If you must have a dog, you could at least have had a pedigree,’ she said as she took a seat on the sofa and settled her skirts about her. Monty’s father had gone to have a look around upstairs and hadn’t said a single word.

‘Don’t let Annie hear you say that.’ Monty smiled. ‘She absolutely adores that little dog.’