Where Have All the Boys Gone?(98)

“WHAT! WHAT’S GOING ON! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” yelled Katie, her fear and exhaustion pouring out of her.

Clara’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, wow, Katie,” she said in a dreamy voice. “How did you get here so fast?”

“My goodness,” said their mother, getting up. “Thanks for coming.”

“THANKS FOR COMING!?” shouted Katie. “I heard there were death-defying nightmares going on down here.”

Clara thought for a moment. “Oh yes. Well, I was a bit frightened when it all kicked off, you know.”

“Maybe we called you too soon,” said their mum.

“I’m only having a baby, I’m not dying,” said Clara. “Aaah.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Katie. “Where is it? Where’s your baby?”

“Still inside,” said Clara. “But I’ve had the epidural now. It was great. Lovely in fact. Contraction due any second now . . .”

A midwife bundled in. “Come on with you there,” she said, peering up between Clara’s legs.

“That was a lovely epidural,” said Clara, dreamily.

“We had to stop you screaming somehow, love, it was waking the other patients.”

She felt around. “OK, now, you’re going to push really hard.”

Clara shut her eyes. Katie took one hand and her mother took the other.

“Come on, now, just push . . . that’s right . . . OK, I can see the head now.”

The other two girls immediately ran down to the other end for a look.

“Oh my God!” said Louise.

“Is it gross?” said Clara.

Katie desperately wanted to head down there too, but Clara was holding her hand so tightly she wouldn’t get away without amputation.

“Oh my God, it’s coming out!” said Louise. She turned to Olivia. “I can’t believe I’m watching Max’s baby being born.”

“You’re brilliant,” said Olivia.

“I know,” said Louise.

The door flew open.

“Am I missing it? I can’t believe you’ve stopped screaming.”

It was Max.

Louise took a step back.

“Hello Max.”

He looked slim, tanned, and very very drawn, and as if he’d just seen a ghost.

“Louise,” he said.

“You’re missing it!” yelled Clara.

Louise stood aside as the midwife ushered him to where the baby was coming out. It landed in his arms, making something of a slithery sound, covered in red goo. Olivia jumped back, in case it splashed on her outfit. The baby opened its tiny scrunched-up mouth and started to scream.

“Oh my God,” Max kept saying. “Oh my God.”

“Would you like to cut the cord?” the midwife asked him.

“God, no,” he said, handing the baby over. “I’d faint. Oh God—it’s a little girl.”

“Just what we need,” said Olivia, until Louise nudged her.

Katie couldn’t speak at all, she couldn’t stop crying.

“Oh goodness,” said Clara, like a big sigh. The midwife took the baby, still bawling, and wiped her down, then handed her to her mother and went back down to the business end to poke around some more.

“Oh my goodness,” said Clara again, as they all crowded around. “Oh my goodness.”

“She looks just like you as a baby,” said their mother, who was absolutely tearful.

“She looks just like a baby,” said Louise. “A perfect baby.”

Katie was too busy admiring the exquisite little fingers and toes. “I can’t believe . . . there’s one more person in this room. How did that just happen?” she asked.

Clara looked at her with an exhausted smile. “Thanks, sis.”

“You looked like you were doing all right,” said Katie, taking her hand again.

“I mean, thanks for looking after me.”

Katie thought of the small flat again. Well, look, their mother was here, and she would share in it, wouldn’t she? It wouldn’t be so bad. She needed to get back to real life, away from Brigadoon, with its complications, and . . . she looked at the baby, who looked as exhausted as her mother. She yawned, a tiny little cub yawn, and Katie’s heart melted. Well, there would be love.

“That’s no problem,” she said, squeezing Clara’s shoulder. “That will never be a problem.”

“Oh, no,” said Clara, unable to take her eyes off her tiny daughter. “No, I don’t mean that. Um, we’re going home with Max.”

Max moved up and put his arms around her shoulders. “Uh, yes,” he said, deliberately not looking at Louise. “I think it’s time to face up to my responsibilities.”

“Well, that sounds romantic,” said Louise. Then she stopped herself. Fortunately Clara hadn’t heard her anyway, being completely caught up in every first flicker of her daughter’s face. “Sorry,” Louise said. “I mean, congratulations.”

Max looked at Louise then. It was a long look. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It just . . . life . . . I didn’t know what I wanted, and . . .”

Louise moved forward and stood in front of him. “It’s all right,” she said, although by the look on Max’s face, he wasn’t sure if it was all right at all. “Honestly,” she continued. “I don’t think we were right. Not really. It couldn’t have been.”