Part One: Trixie
Friday, December 24, 2004
The four walls of Jim’s room at the Manor House were starting to close in on Trixie. For hours, now, she had been waiting for him to return. Long after the rest of the household had gone to bed, she waited. The bedroom door opened and she turned quickly.
“Jim!” she cried, rushing towards him. “Are you okay? Have they been asking questions all that time? Do you have to go back?”
“I’m fine,” he said, “but really tired. Mostly, they just made me sit in a room by myself. I guess they were trying to unsettle me but, since we both know I had nothing to do with it, it didn’t really work. All they said at the end was that I had to keep them informed of my movements.”
“Well, that’s a relief, at least,” she said, kissing him soundly. “It’s time for bed. I’ve got to leave early in the morning, to help Moms.”
He didn’t take much convincing.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
The sun was still below the horizon when Trixie jogged down the slope to Crabapple Farm, with Hallie trailing behind her. After the busy-ness of the wedding the previous day, she did not expect her mother to be awake, let alone ready to start the day’s preparations. The kitchen door opened, without her having to use the key, and she entered to find Brian preparing an early morning snack.
“Morning, Trix,” he said, without turning. “You’re just in time. Aunt Alicia will be down in a minute or two, and this is just about ready. Oh, good morning, Hallie.”
“Good morning, Beatrix,” said a soft voice from the doorway. “You’re here in good time. Good morning, Haldana.”
Trixie shared a glance with her cousin, each of them suppressing a grimace at the use of their full names.
“Good morning, Aunt Alicia,” she replied. “I-I hope you slept well.”
“Very well, thank you,” her aunt said, in a kindly manner. “You look a little tired, yourself. Sit down, both of you, and get something warm into you before we start work.”
Nervous, as always, around her aunt, Trixie did as she was told. Brian set plates and mugs on the table, before sitting next to his sister. He placed a list in the middle of the table, where they all could see it.
“This is what needs to be done,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “It looks like a lot, but I’m sure that if we divide it up, we’ll be able to get everything done.”
“Just leave the kitchen to me, dear,” said his aunt. “I’ll recruit whatever help I need.”
She then proceeded to assign the rest of the tasks to various members of the household. Trixie did not have the nerve to even groan when she was told, among other things, that she would have to dust the entire house and make all the beds.
Preparations were well underway when the rest of the household started stirring. Delicious smells were coming from the kitchen and the living room was piled high with presents. Fortunately for Trixie, her uncle and aunt were staying in the living room, so Hallie had taken on the duties in that room. Bobby, as the youngest one there, impatiently wandered back and forth, getting in people’s way.
While Trixie cleaned and tidyied, her eldest brother set the dining table for breakfast. The whole family now gathered around it, with the exception of her mother, who was still asleep. Even Mart and Di had slipped in. They would be spending most of the day with her family, but had decided to see the Beldens first.
“Merry Christmas, everyone,” said Peter Belden, as they sat down to the meal. “I’m very glad to have you all here. Please excuse Helen for not joining us; I didn’t have the heart to wake her.”
Several people spoke at once, all agreeing that he had done the right thing, and the meal began with a riot of cheerful chatter. Trixie was quiet, partly because she was very tired, but mostly because her thoughts were with another family, just up the hill. Christmas morning at Manor House was a far more formal affair, she knew, and she had little desire to experience that, but she did wish that she and Jim could spend this day together.
It really isn’t fair, she thought to herself, even as she hungrily ate. Our relationship isn’t all that different to Mart and Di’s, but we don’t get to be together. With a sigh, she told herself, not for the first time, that she had made her choice and Mart had made his. At least Jim and Honey would come for a visit in the evening.
As the meal was ending, Trixie noticed her father preparing a breakfast tray to take upstairs. Soon, they would gather in the living room to open presents but, before that, all of the beds needed to be made. Making a sign to Hallie, she excused herself and started on her work.
“I’ll do downstairs,” Hallie said, as they left the room together. “I’ll join you when I’m finished here.”
Trixie nodded and jogged up to the second floor. She went first to her own room, which was being shared by Aunt Alicia and one of Trixie’s great aunts. To her enormous relief, both beds were neatly made and the room looked very tidy.
Brian and Mart’s old room was being taken care of by a reluctant Bobby - obviously on his father’s orders. The side that Brian had used was neat. The side that Bobby had used would take a bit of work.
“Hurry up,” she said, with a grin. “Sooner you’re done, the sooner we get to those presents.”
She left him to it and went on to the next room. There were two beds to be made in Bobby’s room. Just as she was setting everything to order, Hallie poked her head in.
“All done?” she said.
“Almost,” Trixie replied. “I think Moms is still in bed, so we can’t do hers, but if you’ve done downstairs, then this is it.”
“Do we need to wait for her before we start the present opening?”
They both turned, as the bedroom door opened, and Helen emerged. From her appearance, it seemed that their concern was unfounded, as she was fully dressed. She let out a yawn, as her daughter took the empty breakfast tray from her.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, with a self-conscious smile. “What can I do to help?”
“Not a thing,” said Hallie. “We’ve got everything under control, Aunt Helen, so you can just go down to the living room and be ready to open your presents.”
“Really, dear,” Helen began, smothering another yawn, “I have to do something to help.”
Trixie smiled and shook her head. “We’re not in charge, Moms, and neither are you. Aunt Alicia is managing the work schedule and she’s already given away all of your regular jobs.”
“I’ll just have to go and see her,” said her mother, looking stubborn. “I can’t let everyone stay in my own house, but have them do all the work.”
Hallie shrugged, as her aunt made a valiant attempt at striding away. The advanced stage of her pregnancy was a big hindrance to any quick movements; striding, as a form of movement, had disappeared long ago.
“Do you think it’ll do any good?” Hallie asked, in a low voice.
In response, Trixie laughed. “Have you ever seen Moms argue with her sister? They have the most polite arguments I’ve ever seen; both of them try to take on all the work, or the expense, or whatever it is they’re arguing about. Moms will be out of there in ten minutes, still with nothing to do.”
“It sounds like the house is getting fuller,” said Hallie, as they started down the stairs. “Exactly how many more are we expecting?”
“Not too many: Knut and Gloria; a few more relatives on Moms’ side; that’s about it.”
When they reached the living room, a crowd was already gathering around the tree. From the kitchen came the sound of crockery being put away and other preparations being made. Before many minutes had passed, Trixie noticed her mother joining them. She sent a satisfied glance towards Hallie, before guiding her mother into a straight-backed chair.
“We’ll have the present opening as soon as they’re finished with the breakfast clean-up,” Helen said, with a little sigh. She addressed herself then to an elderly aunt, who was steadily knitting something to a complicated pattern. “That looks lovely, Aunt Flora, and such an intricate design.”
Unwilling to be drawn into a discussion of knitting, Trixie wandered towards the window. She stepped behind the heavy drapes and looked out on the world. The front lawn was blanketed in fresh, white snow, largely untouched. To one side, the drive continued past the house. In consideration of the fact that the living room was being used as an extra bedroom, the rest of the guests had primarily used the kitchen door.
A moment later, Trixie was startled to find that she was not alone behind the curtain: Hallie was not interested in knitting, either, and had sought refuge in the same place as her cousin.
“Please,” she whispered, “spare me the handicrafts. Knitting patterns make me nauseous.”
Trixie had to cover her mouth to suppress the giggle that wanted to erupt from her. “Me, too,” she said. “I didn’t even know what that thing was. It looked like a cross between a mitten and an octopus.”
It was Hallie’s turn to cover her mouth. “Apparently, it’s a jacket for the baby.” The urge to giggle subsided and she took in the view. A frown suddenly crossed her face and she said: “Did you see that?”
“What?”
“Kind of a flash. There it is, again.”
“A reflection from something, maybe? But what? There shouldn’t be anything there.”
“Maybe it’s a car driving past,” Hallie said, with a careless shrug. “Or, are you looking for a mystery?”
“I’ve got as much mystery as I can handle,” she replied. “A few extra clues would be useful, but I don’t need any more mysteries.”
“Whatever it was, it seems to have stopped.”
A voice from somewhere behind them called, “Present time.” With a shared glance, the two pushed their way back into the room. Strange, thought Trixie as she found herself a seat. I haven’t had one argument with Hallie since she got here. We must be growing up!
The rest of the day flew by for Trixie. She had so much to do, and so little time to achieve it in, that by the time that the rest of the Bob-Whites arrived, she was ready to drop. Her boyfriend, meeting her at the kitchen door, seemed to sense how she felt and quickly pulled her into his arms.
“Had a good day?” Jim asked, his face pressed into her hair.
“Mmm,” she said, leaning against him. “Busy. Hard work. Too much food. Can I sleep now?”
“Not just yet,” he laughed. “We’ve only just got here for the Bob-White party.”
“Is anyone knitting?”
He tapped her forehead with an index finger. “Are you really awake?” he asked. “Of course there’s no one knitting.”
“Does anyone want me to dust, or clean, or make beds?”
“No,” he laughed.
“Then, just maybe, I might join you.”
“Of course you will,” Honey interjected. “It’ll be fun and we wouldn’t want to have it without you. Anyway, you’ve got to talk to the newlyweds now, before they disappear again.”
“Mart and Di are here?” she asked, jolting to attention. “I thought they’d be heading off to their mystery honeymoon location by now.”
“Yes, we’re here,” her almost-twin said from behind her, “but not for long. Mystery honeymoon destination awaits, you know.”
“I missed you today,” she said, giving him a hug. “Next year, let’s make it a Bob-White Christmas and make everyone come to us at Winter Rock.”
“I’m sure our parents would love that,” said Di, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “It would be such a success that we’d be written up in all the society papers.”
“Are you going to stand around arguing all evening, or are you going to invite me in?” asked Dan, from the doorway.
“We’re not arguing,” Trixie corrected, “we’re discussing. Next Christmas at Winter Rock, and making all our parents come to us.”
He gave her an affectionate pat on the top of the head and headed for the kitchen table. He was still shaking his head as he piled it with presents. She tried very hard to look offended, but with his back turned, Dan was oblivious; most of the others were laughing.
“Nice friends you are,” she said, turning up her nose. “I come up with a brilliant idea and you all laugh at it.”
“We’re not laughing at your idea,” Honey giggled. “I mean, it’s a great idea, as far as it goes, and I’d love to be able to do that - I always miss the rest of you on Christmas day - and you’re all as important to me as family, but I don’t know that our parents would see it that way and they’re the ones who make those sorts of decisions and wouldn’t it be kind of strange for all of our families to be together?”
“That’s a good point, Honey,” said Jim, his eyes shining. “There’s Aunt Vera, for instance.”
“I wasn’t thinking of inviting her!” Trixie laughed, joining in the joke. “She’d have to make her own arrangements.”
“Oh, but we always have her for Christmas,” said Honey. “She’d have to be invited.”
“Fine!” cried Trixie. “I give up! It’s not a brilliant idea. I won’t bring it up again.”
From there, they settled down to the purpose of their gathering: to exchange gifts and relax together at the end of this very busy day. Before long, Mart and Di made their excuses and left. The rest stayed another half hour, before Honey yawned and set the rest of them off.
“I think we’d better be going,” she said, with a giggle. “It’s been a long day and I don’t want to keep anyone up.”
“That’s why we stayed in the kitchen,” Trixie explained. “You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.”
“I need the sleep,” Honey replied. “Fetch Hallie, and let’s get going.”
Soon, the goodbyes were said and the Manor House contingent were on their way up the hill. For a few moments, they walked in silence. In the quiet space between the two houses, Hallie spoke.
“Trixie, what does your mother think of us staying at Manor House?”
“I don’t think she knows,” she replied, in a low voice. She ruthlessly pushed down the small, guilty voice, which told her that the situation was not completely appropriate. “I didn’t tell her; she’s been asleep before we’ve left every night; we’ve been back before she’s awake both mornings. She didn’t need the extra worry of where everyone would sleep, so I just took care of it. Where did you want us to sleep?”
“You could at least have found me a man to keep my bed warm,” Hallie quipped. “Otherwise, I don’t mind at all.”
“Please don’t say you’re looking for volunteers,” joked Dan, who had accompanied them. “I don’t think I’m up to the job and Jim is most definitely unavailable.”
“I was kidding!” said Hallie. “You don’t really think I’d share my bed with a man, do you?”
“You sounded pretty serious to me,” he replied, ducking out of the way of her retaliatory slap.
Trixie squeezed Jim’s hand, but stayed out of the conversation. It was good to know that Hallie didn’t mind the arrangements that she had made. In the days leading up to the wedding, she had little time to worry whether she would regret those arrangements.
This was the last night that they would have to make this trek. Only one night and morning to go, thought Trixie. We might actually get away with this, after all. She felt her insides contract at the thought of sharing a house with Aunt Vera once again - even if the old woman didn’t know that Trixie was there.
With a wave and a short farewell, Dan left them and they headed towards the house. Honey let them in, as quietly as she could, and the four practically tiptoed to the back staircase. Throughout their stay, they had tried to be as secretive as possible. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, of course, knew of their extra guests, as did the staff. By popular consent, the only one in the household who did not know was Vera Carlton.
“See you in the morning,” Hallie whispered, as they parted.
Doors closed along the passageway. They were all safe in their rooms for another night. Trixie sighed with relief, leaning against Jim’s bedroom door.
“Happy Christmas, Trix,” he said, kissing her with a gentleness that spoke volumes.
“Happy Christmas, Jim,” she replied.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Weak sunshine was breaking through the branches of the trees as Trixie hurried home after class. That morning, she had promised Honey that they would meet to discuss their investigation. She ran up the stairs and, with a slight pause while she tried to get her key into the lock, threw open the door.
Trixie could not help smiling as she walked towards her room; everywhere she looked, there was evidence of the personalities of her friends. The back of the sofa was festooned with discarded articles of clothing - from Di’s neatly folded lavender sweater to an old jacket belonging to Dan. On a side table, Honey and Di’s designer accessories battled with empty food packets left behind by Mart. Through the open door of the spare room, she could see medical texts intermingled with those on education, agriculture and a smattering of other subjects.
She unceremoniously dumped her own belongings on the floor outside her room and sighed with relief. The silly grin disappeared from her face and she tapped sharply on Honey’s door. Hearing an invitation, she opened it and went inside.
“Oh, I’m glad you’re here,” said Honey, gesturing for her friend to sit down. There was a sheet of paper in front of her on the bed, on which she had jotted some notes. “I’ve been thinking and I’ve had the most incredible idea.”
“What?” demanded Trixie. She drew the paper towards herself and frowned in concentration as she read. “What does this mean? ‘Andrew King. Mr. Bridgeman. Mr. Porter. Realtor. Mr. Belden.’ What does my dad have to do with the rest of these people?”
“There’s got to be a connection. It can’t be a coincidence that all this bad stuff keeps happening. We know that Andrew King was impersonating Jim - but we don’t know why. We know that Mr. Bridgeman and Mr. Porter had ‘accidents’ that weren’t really. We know that someone deliberately sent the realtor here, when Jim obviously doesn’t want to sell. And I can’t believe that they’d sack your dad and then give him a promotion just because they felt like it.”
“No,” Trixie agreed, but slowly. “I think you’re right about there being a reason why Dad got his job back the way he did, but I don’t think it has anything to do with those other things.”
“What do you mean?” asked Honey, breathlessly. “You know something; I just know it.”
“Not ‘know’ as such,” she hedged. “Let’s say that I strongly suspect and the one I strongly suspect is the one who is least able to keep secrets from me.”
“Jim?”
“No, silly: Mart! Jim tries to keep all kinds of secrets and I have to investigate him.”
“I don’t want to know about that,” Honey warned, screwing up her nose. “Your investigations of Jim are not something I want to think about. Anyway, we’re not talking about investigating Jim; we want to investigate Mart. So, how are we going to begin?”
Trixie thought for a few minutes, absently tapping her fingers against her leg. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I don’t think the direct approach is really going to work. He’d just clam up and would be extra careful not to say anything that’ll give us a hint. On the other hand, there’s not really anything to go on for an undercover investigation.”
“And what does that leave, exactly?”
“Forcing him into a corner?” Trixie suggested with a shrug. “Writing a letter of enquiry to the bank? Asking my Dad?”
“I can really see those last two working,” Honey giggled. “So how do we force Mart into a corner?”
A sinister smile crept over his sister’s face. “Leave that to me,” she said. “We’ll have to get him alone somehow and I’ll get it out of him. Just back me up, no matter what I say.”
“Why do I think I’m going to regret this?” Honey asked.
After dinner that evening, Trixie found an opportunity to corner Mart and seized it with both hands. Only five of the Bob-Whites had eaten at the house that evening and it was Brian’s and Di’s turn to clean up. Mart rose from the table, deposited his dirty dishes next to the sink and turned in the direction of his room. With a significant glance, Trixie grabbed Honey’s arm and they were off in pursuit.
“Can we have a word, please?” she asked, just as he was about to shut the door. “Just for a minute.”
“Make it quick,” he said, frowning a little. He ushered the two inside and stood waiting for them to speak.
“I just need a little advice,” Trixie said, fidgeting slightly. “I’ve been doing some investigating and I think there’s something going on in Sleepyside; something dishonest, maybe even criminal.”
“Quite likely,” he replied. “The number of villains you alone have brought to justice-”
“That’s not what I meant,” she interrupted. “I think there’s something strange about the way that Dad lost his job and got it back again and I’m worried. Think about it, Mart! The new back president comes in, there’s a big shake-up and Dad’s out on his ear. Then, out of the blue, he’s been given a better job than the one he lost and everything’s fine again. There’s something fishy there and I think I’d better find out what it is, only I’m worried that Dad might not want me to, since he’s got the job and everything.”
While she made this little speech, Mart’s face had blanched. There was a long pause after she had finished, during which he turned an unattractive red. His mouth moved, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Finally, he took a breath and cleared his throat.
“Leave it alone, Trix,” he said. “You can’t do anything about it. Just leave it alone.”
“But if there’s someone corrupt at the bank,” she hinted, “they could be doing all sorts of damage. It won’t help Dad in the long run if we let someone like that stay there. It could start some sort of financial disaster or something.”
“Corruption is a big problem,” Honey agreed, taking Trixie at her earlier word. “It can bring down a business - even a big one. The whole bank could fail if that person isn’t stopped.”
“I don’t think there’s a problem with corruption anymore,” said Mart, whose face had turned pale again. “I don’t know if you knew, but the new bank president - and quite a few others who supported him - left the bank.”
“Still,” said Trixie, “this is really serious. I don’t see any reason to believe that it’s all been cleared up. There wasn’t an enquiry or anything, was there? Nobody looked into what happened back then.”
“Of course there was an enquiry,” her brother shouted. “Didn’t you see the front page story in the Sleepyside Sun and the questions they asked that started it off? Didn’t you hear about the scandal when the bank president resigned? He practically admitted to being dishonest.”
“How did you know it was a front page story?” she asked, softly. “We were here when it happened.”
The red flush returned to his face and his mouth moved like that of a goldfish. Eventually, he said, “I was interested. I kept an eye on it.”
“And how did you know it was going to happen?” she pressed. He didn’t answer. “Did you have something to do with it?”
“Why would you think that?” he asked. “I just wanted to support Dad. I do have friends still in Sleepyside, you know. Anyone could have told me.”
“But no one told me in advance,” she said. “Come on, Mart. Tell me what you did.”
“I tipped them off,” he admitted, grudgingly. “I did a little investigating, found out a few things and decided it would be better handled by someone else. I’m not going to go into the specifics, because I think it would be better for you not to know, but I gave information to a reporter from the Sun.”
“Are you crazy?” asked his sister, kicking herself for letting such a big case slip between her fingers. “What did you want to do something like that for?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” he countered. “Nothing was happening. They were getting away with it. I don’t claim to be a great detective and I know that you don’t have the financial and business knowledge to deal with that sort of problem. Newspapers have the resources to do that sort of an investigation and they can publish on far less evidence than you’d need to get someone fired. I figured that a little public outcry was what was needed. I’m glad to say that it worked.”
“But couldn’t you have taken your suspicions to the authorities?” asked Honey. “They could have conducted a discreet investigation and cleared the whole thing up without the scandal.”
“Ah, well,” Mart hedged. “It’s just that I wanted to remain anonymous and I didn’t really have anything other than suspicions - no proof. And, anyway, I wanted the bank president to suffer. Do you realise, Honey, that the internal investigation didn’t even find enough evidence to fire him? I suspect that they used the public outcry to pressure him to quit.”
“He could be right,” said Honey, looking at Trixie. “Much as I hate to say it.”
“I am right,” he said, with the first sign of humour. “And anyway, I had everything in place for a more conventional attack, if the first one didn’t come off. It just turned out that I didn’t need it.”
Having achieved what she had set out to do, Trixie thanked her brother nicely and made a hasty retreat. She thought he looked relieved as the door shut behind them.
“You see, Honey,” she whispered, as they headed back to their own rooms, “my father doesn’t have anything to do with those other people. The only thing sinister connected with him is my almost-twin.”
Part Two: Helen
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
“It was so good to have you stay,” Helen said to her sister, giving her an awkward hug. “Thank you so much for the work you did. I don’t know how we would have coped without you.”
“It was my pleasure,” Alicia replied. “Now, you take care of yourself and I’ll see you when the baby’s here.”
The two women kissed and Alicia, the last of the house guests, got into the car to leave. Despite the chilly wind, Helen remained outside to wave until there was no one in sight. The sigh she let out, as the door closed behind her, was a mixture of relief and regret. Her family, she knew, would be very happy to have the house to themselves again, but she knew that she would miss her sister.
I need the rest, though, she told herself, firmly. There’s been too much excitement over the last few weeks and I need some time to relax. Entering the kitchen, she filled the kettle and began to make herself a warm drink. The routine soothed her; it had been days since anyone had let her set foot in her own kitchen. The water boiled and she finished her task, sinking heavily into a chair at the table.
“Hey, Moms,” said her daughter, entering from the back yard. “Has Aunt Alicia gone already? I just came to say goodbye.”
“You’ve just missed her.”
“I’m sorry,” Trixie said and sat next to her mother.
Helen patted her hand to let her know that it was all right. She’s doesn’t want to be here, she realised with a jolt. I wonder how long she’ll stay. For a moment, she felt a wave of sadness that another of her children was ready to leave the nest. A moment later, the baby within her wriggled, leaving her feeling a little silly for the sentiment. Aloud, she said: “How long are you staying?”
“I’m not sure.” Trixie looked and sounded surprised. “I haven’t asked Jim what he’s doing, yet. I think he wanted to do some work on the house sometime fairly soon and I said I’d help him.”
“You’ll let me know a few days before you leave?”
“Of course, Moms,” she said, looking bewildered. “Don’t I always tell you what I’m doing?”
Helen smiled at her confusion and patted her hand, again. “I just like to know your plans,” she explained. “Lately, it feels like none of you need me anymore.”
Her daughter smiled and nodded to her distended abdomen. “With this little one coming, I don’t think you’ll have time for looking after us. It’s just as well we can take care of ourselves. But, of course we need you; you’re our Moms. It’s just for different things than when we were younger.”
“I know that with my head,” Helen replied, remembering an incident a few days previous when she was able to be Trixie’s champion. “I just have trouble convincing my heart of it.”
“Well, I still need you, Moms,” said Trixie. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Monday, February 21, 2005
With a heavy sigh, Helen entered what would be the baby’s room with a load of fresh laundry. Her daughter-in-law looked up with a smile as she entered and Helen was visited with a small wave of guilt. I should be able to do this by myself, she thought, heaving the half-full basket onto the table. It’s not that much work.
“You really don’t have to do this, you know,” she said. “You’re most welcome to leave it there, if there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”
“No, of course not,” said Di. “I’m happy to help. I’ve got these few days off work at the moment, but Mart’s still got classes and there’s not all that much to do at home. Besides, I love all these adorable baby clothes and things.”
“They are very cute,” Helen replied. “Though they lose some of their charm when you have to wash them, over and over.”
The young woman smiled and continued to fold the freshly-washed garments, placing them gently in the large chest of drawers. Her mother-in-law looked around in approval. Everything was ready for the arrival of the newest Belden. And not a moment too soon, she thought, with a heavy sigh. I’m more than ready for this pregnancy to be over.
She rubbed at her back, which had been constantly aching for the last several hours. It may not be long now, either. I seem to remember this just before Trixie was born. Even as she thought it, a contraction began. The world swam out of focus and the memory of each other time she’d been in labour came back, with more clarity than she wanted to remember. The pain subsided and everything returned to relatively normal. Di was looking at her, apparently in concern.
“I’m fine, really,” she said, giving her a pat on the arm. “We’ll time the contractions and see what happens.”
Di appeared less than convinced, but nodded. She left the room, returning a moment later with a piece of paper and a pencil. “When do I start timing?” she asked. “Is it the beginning of the contraction?”
Helen nodded. “From the beginning of one to the beginning of the next.” The two went on working, tidying the room and putting away the clothes and supplies. Before long, everything was ready for the baby. “There. That’s finished, and not a moment too soon, it seems.”
“What should we do now?” asked Di. “Do you need to rest or anything?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “It must have been twenty minutes, now, since the contraction. It could be a long time before anything really happens. How about we go downstairs and get ourselves a snack?”
“Okay, but I’ll do that. You sit at the table and rest.”
Helen was meekly waiting, while her daughter-in-law pottered around the kitchen, when the next wave of pain began. Her sharp intake of breath was enough to cause Di to spin around and stare at her, with a look nearing panic on her face.
“Don’t worry,” she managed to say. “I’m okay.”
The words did their job; Di glanced quickly at the clock and wrote down the time as 10:24, before moving to support her. Fear was still visible in the young woman’s eyes, but it was a controlled fear. The contraction ended and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Is this how it usually goes?” Di asked, looking more than a little worried.
“Not always,” Helen replied. “When Brian, Mart and Bobby were born, it started out a lot more slowly and was a lot less painful to begin with. It seemed to take a lot longer to get to this stage. With Trixie, I had a terrible backache for hours beforehand, then it was rather like this.”
“And have you had a backache today?”
Helen began to nod, meaning to explain what she had been feeling. She grimaced.
“Already?” asked Di, jotting down ‘10:29’ on her sheet. “I thought it’d be longer between them.”
“It normally is,” she ground out, as Di put a comforting arm around her. Finally, it was over. “Can you call Peter? Tell him it’s starting and that he should be ready to leave. I’ll be in the bedroom.”
Alone, in the privacy of her room, Helen slumped against the door. I really don’t want to do this, she thought. Not again. With an effort, she crossed the room to find her bag. For weeks, now, it had been packed and ready. She had only to add a few items. Di’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and she opened the door for her.
“He’ll be ready,” Di said, stepping inside. “Do you need any help?”
Helen was in the process of shaking her head when the next contraction began. She noted the look of concern on her daughter-in-law’s face as she glanced at the time. When it was over, she saw that Di had written ‘10:33’ on the sheet.
“Is it time to call the doctor?” she asked, tapping the page. “These are kind of close together, aren’t they?”
“Not just yet,” Helen replied. “If the next one is less than five minutes from the last, then we’ll call.”
The next time written on the sheet was 10:37. Helen could see that Diana was ready to hand her over to someone else’s care. It made her wonder whether the younger woman had ever been around while her own mother was about to give birth.
“Let’s get you packed,” Di said, in a brisk, but rather brittle, voice. “Do you want me to call your doctor?”
“I’ll do that myself,” she replied. “Could you finish packing my bag, please? There’s a list of things that need to be put in right next to it.”
By the time that the call was made, Di had joined her in the kitchen, bag in hand. A quick call to the bank had Peter ready to meet them at the hospital.
“If I’ve got the wrong things,” said Di, as she helped Helen into the car, “I’ll come back and get them for you. This little one seems to be in a bit of a hurry and I don’t think I’m qualified to deliver him… or her!”
“I’m sure we’ll make it in plenty of time,” Helen replied, gritting her teeth against the next contraction. Or, at least, I hope so, she added, to herself.