Page 25 of The Winter Bride

‘Mr Taylor-Lloyd an’ Reggie ’ave come too,’ she said, and when Annie looked distressed, she told her, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll not be lettin’ the men up.’

Minutes later Peggy showed Annie’s mother-in-law into the room with Monty close behind her.

Annie had just finished feeding the baby again and had changed his napkin. With a brief nod at Annie, Mrs Taylor-Lloyd said somewhat unnecessarily, ‘So you’ve had him then.’

‘Yes, as you can see.’ Once again, she had rubbed Annie up the wrong way. She always had a knack of doing that no matter how hard Annie tried with her, and she doubted anything would ever change between them now.

‘Hmm, and a month early. A good weight too for a premature baby!’

Annie knew exactly what she was insinuating and felt colour flood into her cheeks. The woman crossed to the bed and peered down at the child. ‘I have to say he looks nothing like Montgomery did when he was born.’

‘I think it’s rather difficult to tell who a newborn baby looks like, Mother,’ Monty said placatingly. He could see that Annie was getting agitated.

‘Well, he’s certainly going to have his mother’s hair. Am I allowed to hold him?’

Without waiting for an answer, she drew off her gloves and laid them on the bed before holding her arms out. Annie reluctantly allowed her to take Adam.

‘Feeding him yourself, are you?’

When Annie nodded, she sniffed her disapproval. ‘I always think people of class should employ a nanny to bottle-feed the baby. The mother gets back into shape so much more quickly that way.’

‘I don’t want him to have a nanny; I want to feed him and look after him myself,’ Annie answered sharply.

‘And what about his grandfather and uncle who are downstairs. Are they not allowed to meet him?’

Peggy quickly stepped in. ‘I didn’t say they weren’t allowed to meet him. I said I didn’t think it would be appropriate for them to come up here while Annie is nursin’ an’ still in bed. But I’ll take ’im downstairs to meet ’em if you like?’

‘It’s all right, I’ll take him,’ Monty said quickly as he gently took the baby from his mother’s arms. Flashing Annie an apologetic smile, he made for the door with his mother following, promising, ‘Don’t worry, darling. I’ll bring him straight back in a few minutes.’

Peggy stayed behind. This was the first time Adam had been out of Annie’s sight since he’d been born and she could see that she wasn’t happy about it. ‘Let ’im do it to keep the peace,’ she advised.

Annie nodded. ‘I will, although I hate the thought of Reggie anywhere near my baby.’

Peggy shrugged. ‘I doubt they’ll stay long. I certainly shan’t be panderin’ to ’em,’ she said bluntly. ‘An’ if they want a cup o’ tea Monty can make it for ’em. Now you just rest for a few minutes while I go down an’ keep me eye on things.’

Downstairs Annie could hear the murmur of voices, although she couldn’t make out what was being said, and when Peggy had gone, she felt the ever-near tears spring to her eyes.

Oh Alex, I wish you could see him. Monty had gone into the spare room to sleep for a few days and she was grateful for that at least, because guilt sliced through her every time she looked at him or saw him with Adam. He had been so good with him, but she wondered what he would do if he ever discovered the truth.

Fifteen minutes later Peggy returned Adam to her. ‘It’s all right, they’ve gone now,’ she informed her as she placed him back in Annie’s arms.

‘Were there any more sarcastic comments about him being premature?’ Annie asked.

Peggy avoided her eyes as she started to tidy the bed. ‘Not really.’ Then seeing that Annie was upset she told her sternly, ‘You know what I told yer before – what’s done is done an’ to all intents an’ purposes, Monty is ’is dad an’ he’ll be a good ’un, if I ain’t very much mistaken. So, pull yerself together an’ accept things as they are, else yer goin’ to end up breakin’ ’is ’eart an’ he don’t deserve that.’

‘I know,’ Annie muttered miserably.

Before Annie knew it, Christmas was almost upon them. She had loved staying at home and looking after Adam, who was thriving, but now she was beginning to miss the shop. Susan had it running like a well-oiled machine and it was doing remarkably well.

‘I was thinking I might go back to work for a few hours each week,’ she suggested tentatively to Monty one evening.

He was sitting by the fire reading his newspaper and he looked up sharply. ‘What? Already? But Adam is only a few weeks old. Who will look after him?’

‘Well, while I’m still breastfeeding, he could come with me and lie in the kitchen in his pram,’ she told him. ‘It’s nice and warm in there and when he needs feeding Susan or Mrs Jenkins will take over.’ They had employed Mrs Jenkins to help out in the shop some weeks ago and she had turned out to be worth her weight in gold.

Monty didn’t look at all enamored of the idea, so she rushed on, ‘I just thought it would get me out of the house for short spells. I can’t even go out in the garden at this time of year, so I don’t get to see many people while you’re at work, and I’d enjoy the company.’

‘Hmm, I still think it’s rather too soon.’ Monty was concerned. ‘The weather is awful at the minute and it’s going to get worse before it gets better. Is it wise to take a baby out in the cold so soon? And you should be using this time to rest. You’re up in the night feeding Adam and I don’t want you overdoing it. The shop is doing perfectly well without you.’