just be the effect of the medicine the doctor gave her,’ he replied knowledgeably. ‘Don’t pay it any mind.’
‘I won’t be able to go to the shop tomorrow if I’ve got to look after the baby,’ Beth said. ‘Mr Hooley won’t be pleased when it’s so close to Christmas. What if he won’t hold my position until Mama is better again?’
‘Don’t worry your head about that,’ Sam said wearily. ‘You write a note for him and I’ll put it through the door on my way to work. Now, I’d better put more coal in the stove to keep our little sister warm. I wonder what Mama will want to call her.’
‘I think she looks like a Molly,’ Beth said, peeping into the cradle again. ‘I just hope she doesn’t wake up until Mrs Craven comes in. I don’t know a thing about babies.’
Beth slept fitfully in the old armchair by the stove, with her feet up on a stool and some blankets over her. She kept waking at the slightest noise, but each time it was nothing more than crackling from the stove, or a little murmur from the baby. But whenever she tried to go back to sleep, her mind kept mulling over that plea from her mother.
At six in the morning Beth was cuddling the baby and trying to get her to stop crying, when to her relief Mrs Craven came in through the back door, stamping her feet to get rid of the snow on her boots.
‘Baby needs changing and feeding,’ she said bossily, and throwing off her coat, she took the baby from Beth and proceeded to remove the soggy blanket, ordering Beth to go and get the box of baby clothes and napkins.
Beth watched in fascination as the older woman carefully washed the tiny baby and gave her instructions about changing the piece of lint around the stump of its umbilical cord and sprinkling a special powder on the cord until it fell off. She then folded a napkin into a triangle and fastened it around the baby’s bottom.
‘Later, when the shops are open, you must go and see if you can buy a pair of india-rubber waterproof pants for her,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘They didn’t have them when my babies were born, but I believe they are a godsend as they keep their clothes and bedding dry. You must change the napkin every two or three hours. If you leave her wet she’ll get sore.’
As she dressed the baby in a little nightgown, she imparted a great deal more information about babycare, most of which went over Beth’s head.
‘Now, we’ll take her to your mother for a feed,’ she said, handing the baby back to Beth. ‘She might protest as she’s feeling poorly, but a mother always gets better quicker when she holds her baby.’
Alice did look marginally better, in as much as the awful blotching on her face had faded, and she opened her eyes and tried to smile. She winced with pain as Mrs Craven helped her to sit up a bit so she could put more pillows behind her, and she was terribly pale.
Beth knew now that Dr Gillespie had performed what was called a caesarean, and it should have been done in the hospital. But he had no choice: Mama couldn’t be moved and the baby had to be removed quickly or they would both have died.
‘We’ll just let baby have a little feed,’ Mrs Craven said, unbuttoning the front of Mama’s nightgown. ‘Then I’ll get you a drink, something to eat and make you more comfortable.’
Beth blushed at seeing her mother’s breast, but as Mrs Craven put the baby to it and she latched on quickly, sucking eagerly, embarrassment turned to delight at the sight of such greed and Beth had to smile.
‘She’s a little fighter, that one,’ Mrs Craven said tenderly.
‘Now, what are you going to call her?’
‘I think she’s a Molly,’ Beth said, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
‘Then Molly it shall be,’ her mother said with the ghost of a smile.
Chapter Four
In the days following Molly’s birth Beth didn’t get a minute to herself, for it was a continuous round of changing and comforting Molly, seeing to her mother, including helping her
‘I won’t be able to go to the shop tomorrow if I’ve got to look after the baby,’ Beth said. ‘Mr Hooley won’t be pleased when it’s so close to Christmas. What if he won’t hold my position until Mama is better again?’
‘Don’t worry your head about that,’ Sam said wearily. ‘You write a note for him and I’ll put it through the door on my way to work. Now, I’d better put more coal in the stove to keep our little sister warm. I wonder what Mama will want to call her.’
‘I think she looks like a Molly,’ Beth said, peeping into the cradle again. ‘I just hope she doesn’t wake up until Mrs Craven comes in. I don’t know a thing about babies.’
Beth slept fitfully in the old armchair by the stove, with her feet up on a stool and some blankets over her. She kept waking at the slightest noise, but each time it was nothing more than crackling from the stove, or a little murmur from the baby. But whenever she tried to go back to sleep, her mind kept mulling over that plea from her mother.
At six in the morning Beth was cuddling the baby and trying to get her to stop crying, when to her relief Mrs Craven came in through the back door, stamping her feet to get rid of the snow on her boots.
‘Baby needs changing and feeding,’ she said bossily, and throwing off her coat, she took the baby from Beth and proceeded to remove the soggy blanket, ordering Beth to go and get the box of baby clothes and napkins.
Beth watched in fascination as the older woman carefully washed the tiny baby and gave her instructions about changing the piece of lint around the stump of its umbilical cord and sprinkling a special powder on the cord until it fell off. She then folded a napkin into a triangle and fastened it around the baby’s bottom.
‘Later, when the shops are open, you must go and see if you can buy a pair of india-rubber waterproof pants for her,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘They didn’t have them when my babies were born, but I believe they are a godsend as they keep their clothes and bedding dry. You must change the napkin every two or three hours. If you leave her wet she’ll get sore.’
As she dressed the baby in a little nightgown, she imparted a great deal more information about babycare, most of which went over Beth’s head.
‘Now, we’ll take her to your mother for a feed,’ she said, handing the baby back to Beth. ‘She might protest as she’s feeling poorly, but a mother always gets better quicker when she holds her baby.’
Alice did look marginally better, in as much as the awful blotching on her face had faded, and she opened her eyes and tried to smile. She winced with pain as Mrs Craven helped her to sit up a bit so she could put more pillows behind her, and she was terribly pale.
Beth knew now that Dr Gillespie had performed what was called a caesarean, and it should have been done in the hospital. But he had no choice: Mama couldn’t be moved and the baby had to be removed quickly or they would both have died.
‘We’ll just let baby have a little feed,’ Mrs Craven said, unbuttoning the front of Mama’s nightgown. ‘Then I’ll get you a drink, something to eat and make you more comfortable.’
Beth blushed at seeing her mother’s breast, but as Mrs Craven put the baby to it and she latched on quickly, sucking eagerly, embarrassment turned to delight at the sight of such greed and Beth had to smile.
‘She’s a little fighter, that one,’ Mrs Craven said tenderly.
‘Now, what are you going to call her?’
‘I think she’s a Molly,’ Beth said, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
‘Then Molly it shall be,’ her mother said with the ghost of a smile.
Chapter Four
In the days following Molly’s birth Beth didn’t get a minute to herself, for it was a continuous round of changing and comforting Molly, seeing to her mother, including helping her
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