Winter on the Mersey(73)
‘On and off,’ she admitted, ‘but the pain gets worse every time and it’s happening more and more often. Is that what it’s like? Or is there something wrong with me? Wrong with my baby?’
Rita gave her a hug. ‘That’s what it’s like. Sounds as if that baby is on its way already. Come on, we’ll get you upstairs before the next pain arrives, and then I’ll get everything ready.’
‘But the party,’ Violet moaned. ‘I don’t want to spoil it.’
Rita shook her head. ‘You won’t. Everyone will be thrilled.’ She had to pause as she felt the sudden urge to cry at the emotion of it all. ‘It’s like a miracle, Violet. The best present any of us could wish for. In the midst of all the death and destruction of the last year, a Christmas baby. So let’s get you inside.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The party had moved to the parlour and everyone joined in a singsong, followed by a game of charades made more raucous by the new bottle of rum being opened and passed round. Kitty kept a sharp eye on Tommy to see if he attempted to try some, but he didn’t seem at all inclined. Maybe he had learnt his lesson the hard way. She breathed a secret sigh of relief.
There was a knock at the door and in came Maeve Kerrigan, Rita’s closest colleague from the hospital, and by coincidence a cousin of Nancy’s husband, Sid. Thankfully she didn’t take after that side of the family, but had felt obliged to pop round to see her gloomy aunt as she was the closest relative in the city. She hadn’t stayed long, realising she wasn’t really wanted as Mrs Kerrigan had no intention of celebrating, and so she’d come round to see Rita. When she found out her friend was upstairs and very busy, she came in anyway.
‘Let me take your coat, Maeve,’ said Sarah, hurrying forward. ‘You’ll stay for a cup of tea and some cake, won’t you? Even something stronger?’
‘None of that strong stuff for me.’ Maeve shuddered at the thought. ‘I’ll not be saying no to the cake, though. Kitty, is it one of yours?’
Sarah stepped through to the kitchen, aware of the noises from upstairs, but knowing Violet was in the best hands. She’d go up to help when necessary. For now she’d only be in the way.
Maeve rolled up the sleeves of her best blouse, which she’d cunningly brought up to date with new buttons and a dark green ribbon at the neck. ‘Will I have a go on your piano?’ she offered.
‘Didn’t know you played, Maeve,’ said Danny.
‘Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Danny Callaghan,’ said Maeve smartly. ‘Sure I can play. Just watch me now. What’ll we have?’
Soon everyone was joining in, and if Maeve’s playing wasn’t quite up to Eddy’s standard, no one mentioned it. Sarah stood with her back against the wall, thankful that the happy noise would drown out whatever was coming from the bedroom above, giving Violet some kind of privacy. After a few songs she gathered up the plates and cups, piling them on to a tray, and took them into the kitchen. She tried not to think about the look Maeve had just shot at Danny as the clear sound of Kitty hitting a high note followed her through.
Slowly and methodically she stacked the plates and saucers beside the sink, brushing off any stray crumbs. Before washing them, she decided to make sure the kettle was full and to set a big pan of water to boil – not that she thought it would be needed yet, but it would be easier to heat through if she put it on now. Humming to herself, she turned back to the sink and noticed that Danny was standing in the doorway.
‘Getting everything ready?’ he grinned.
‘Can’t be too prepared for something like this,’ she said, brushing back a wayward strand of her brown hair. ‘First babies usually take a long time, but then again we don’t know when Violet really started. Knowing her, she could have been hiding it so as not to interrupt Christmas dinner.’
Danny nodded. ‘You’ve got it all under control,’ he observed.
Sarah shrugged. ‘As much as that’s possible – you never know what will happen at a birth, especially a first one like this. But Rita’s the best. She’ll know exactly what to do, no matter how it goes.’
‘Well, you’re the best too,’ said Danny seriously.
‘Danny Callaghan, you’ve been at that rum,’ Sarah scolded him mockingly. ‘Will you listen to yourself. Aren’t you missing Maeve playing the piano in there?’
‘I’m not missing anything important.’ Danny leant against the doorpost. ‘I can say it, can’t I? No harm in a compliment where it’s due.’ He raised his eyebrows.
Sarah could see he had indeed had a tot or two of rum, and yet there was a look about him that told her he wasn’t entirely joking. There was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before – or, if it had, she’d always glossed over it. She felt something shift inside her. She couldn’t quite believe it – after all that she’d been thinking about him, for all the long weeks of his absence. Could it be true that he’d felt the same? Dared she hope for it?
‘It’s been quiet round here without you, Danny,’ she began, and moved one step towards him just as he stepped closer to her.
Then there was the sound of someone running downstairs and Rita’s head appeared around the other side of the door. She all but pushed Danny aside.