Chapter 19
Half an hour later, Ernie stopped the Tilly outside the cottage from which Dr Minchin ran his general practice.
‘I’ll walk you to the door.’
‘People are going to gossip fit to burst if they see you escorting me into the doctor’s and I announce I’m having a baby right after,’ Bobby said, with an attempt at a smile. She pressed a hand to her forehead. ‘Still, you better had. I might fall down otherwise.’
Bobby clung to him as he walked her to the cottage. Her knees felt like they’d been replaced with jelly.
‘I’d better not come in with you or there really will be talk,’ Ernie said. ‘We’ll wait here to give you a ride home.’
‘No, please. You’re liable to get into enough trouble thanks to me. I’m sure the doctor will help me get home. He’s got a car.’
‘Nonsense. The doc’s got patients to see to. I’ll take you.’
‘Please, Ernie,’ she said, looking up at him. ‘I don’t know how I’d explain you driving me home to the neighbours, especially when Charlie’s away.’
‘Well, if that’s the way you want it.’ He rapped at the door then bent to kiss her cheek. ‘It doesn’t seem the right moment to offer congratulations so I’ll save them for another time. But it’ll all work out, you’ll see.’
‘You’ve been a real knight in shining armour today, Ernie. That girl of yours doesn’t know how lucky she is.’
‘I wouldn’t know about that.’
The door opened and the doctor’s wife appeared. Mrs Minchin acted as secretary-cum-nurse to her husband during consulting hours.
‘Oh,’ she said on seeing Bobby. ‘Morning, love. We weren’t expecting you while two.’
‘I know. Is Dr Minchin free now? I have to see him.’
Mrs Minchin took in Bobby’s drawn, sickly looks. ‘Why, is summat up?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps.’
‘He’s with another patient but I’ll send you in right after.’ She squinted short-sightedly at Ernie. ‘This is your husband?’
‘Just a friend,’ Ernie said. ‘Look after her, won’t you, ma’am? Make sure she gets home OK.’
‘Um, yes,’ the woman said, puzzled at encountering an unexpected accent.
‘See you, Slacks. Take care, all right?’ Ernie saluted before heading back to his truck.
Without his support, Bobby felt unsteady again. She was glad to follow Mrs Minchin to the waiting area and sink into a seat.
After what seemed like an age, the patient who had been in with the doctor finally left. Dr Minchin put his head round the door to speak with his wife, who was sitting behind a desk filing prescriptions.
‘Well, Gertie, who’s next?’
‘Mrs Atherton had better go in, Dick,’ his wife said. ‘She’s not due while two, but it’s an emergency.’
The doctor beckoned to Bobby and she followed him into the surgery.
‘Take a seat, Mrs Atherton,’ the doctor said, gesturing to a chair, ‘and let’s hear what’s worrying you.’
‘It’s Marmaduke,’ she said at once, then flinched at having used the foolish nickname she and Charlie had given the baby. ‘Sorry. I mean the baby.’ She gasped back a sob. ‘Dr Minchin, I’m so frightened.’
‘Now, let’s try to stay calm,’ Dr Minchin said in his gentle voice. The shrewd, intelligent eyes behind homely round spectacles were instantly reassuring. ‘Working yourself up into a state certainly won’t do – what did you say his name was, Marmaduke? – any good. What’s worrying you?’
‘He’s stopped moving, I’m sure he has. I don’t think he’s moved since Charlie left to go to London yesterday morning.’
The doctor frowned. ‘As long as that?’
‘I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure.’ Bobby rubbed her head. ‘I wasn’t paying attention until this morning. He always moves around half past six.’
‘Bladder pressure, I imagine. Not uncommon, although many babies are more active at night.’ The doctor noticed her frightened expression and stopped. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t interrupt. Go on.’
‘Well, this morning I overslept because I was so used to him waking me, and I realised I couldn’t remember him moving for ages.
’ She sobbed again. ‘I can’t feel him at all, Doctor,’ she said in a whisper.
‘I’ve been pressing against my stomach since I woke up and I can’t feel a thing.
Not a thing. I’m so scared he’s… that he’s… dead.’
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions,’ the doctor said evenly. ‘Take off your coat and lift your blouse, please.’
Bobby did so, exposing her rounded stomach. The doctor rested his hands on it and moved them around, pressing with his fingertips. Then he put on his stethoscope and moved the cold metal against her skin, an inscrutable expression on his face.
‘Is it all right, Doctor?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘Can you hear him?’
Dr Minchin didn’t answer. He just went to fetch a tub of Vaseline, rubbed some on her and started again with his stethoscope.
‘Everything all right with your health in other respects?’ he asked, in a measured tone that gave nothing away.
‘I don’t know,’ she murmured. ‘I felt awful today, but before that everything seemed fine. Only a little tiredness, and needing to visit the lavatory more often. I assumed that was normal.’
‘You haven’t noticed anything when using the lavatory? Any bleeding?’
‘No, nothing like that.’
The doctor fell silent again, sliding his stethoscope over the arc of her belly.
‘Ah, there we are,’ he said after what felt like a year. ‘A strong, regular little heartbeat, just as it ought to be. You know, you had me worried for a moment.’
‘You mean… he’s all right?’
‘Keep monitoring his movements over the next twenty-four hours, but yes, he seems to be. And very much still alive – that I can tell you for certain.’
‘Oh, thank God. Thank God.’ Bobby laughed with relief. ‘Oh, I could hug you, Doctor. I’d never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to him.’
He smiled. ‘Save the hug for young Charlie, eh? Now, what’s all this about not forgiving yourself?’
‘I was terrified it was my fault. That I’d made the baby ill because I would insist on working after Charlie begged me to give it up. But we needed the money, and I felt healthy enough so I…’ She flushed. ‘I just… kept on.’
‘I shouldn’t think your office job would have done you any harm. Or is there a lot of fieldwork involved?’
‘I often have to go out to conduct interviews, take things to the printer and that sort of thing.’
‘It’s not ideal for you to be on your feet too much but even so, it isn’t exactly manual labour.
Husbands do tend to worry about these things more than they need to, especially with a first pregnancy.
Nevertheless, you ought to think about giving up now you’re approaching your final three months, Mrs Atherton.
At the very least, you might speak to Reg about allowing you to work from home. ’
‘Yes. After today’s scare, I’ve learnt my lesson.’ Bobby pressed a hand to her stomach. ‘Why had he stopped moving, Doctor?’
‘Babies can be a law unto themselves in that respect. Sometimes they’re restless; other times they want to be still. I suspect that Marmaduke was tired from the exertions of growing a healthy little body and decided he needed a rest.’
‘But he’s always been such a wriggly baby, especially in the mornings. He’s never failed to wake me in five weeks.’
‘Every baby has its own cycle, but it won’t necessarily remain static throughout the pregnancy.
You can trust me, Mrs Atherton, when I tell you that your baby seems absolutely fine.
He ought to be about the size of a large baked potato by now.
’ Dr Minchin applied the stethoscope again and smiled. ‘Ah, there we go. A little kick.’
‘Was there?’ Bobby hadn’t felt a thing.
‘A gentle one, but yes. He may not be quite as “wriggly” as usual, to borrow your word, and perhaps you have become somewhat desensitised to his movements, but he is still moving around. As I said, though, keep monitoring him. If he’s still quiet tomorrow, give me a call.’
‘I will.’ Bobby paused. ‘And… there definitely is only one baby, isn’t there? You know twins run in my family. I’d love two healthy babies, but with Charlie not working, I’d be grateful if the Almighty could see His way clear to spacing them out.’
The doctor smiled. ‘No, nothing to worry about there. Only one heartbeat, and your stomach is exactly the size I would expect.’
Relief flooded Bobby as the doctor’s words sank in. Everything was all right. Marmaduke was fine, and she wouldn’t have to break Charlie’s heart.
‘If there’s nothing wrong, why did I feel so badly today?’ she asked, buttoning up her blouse.
‘In what way did you feel badly?’
‘I felt horribly faint and trembly, and then I sort of collapsed by the side of the road.’
The doctor frowned. ‘You lost consciousness?’
‘No, although I felt like I might. I knelt down to be sick, but I hadn’t eaten so nothing came up. Then I just felt too weary to get up again. If it hadn’t been for an airman friend giving me a lift, I’d probably be there still.’
‘And how do you feel now?’
Bobby paused to take stock of herself. Certainly the sickly feeling had disappeared, and her hands, when she held them up, were no longer shaking so violently. She could feel a headache beginning, but there wasn’t the tight sensation that had left her feeling she might lose consciousness.
‘I feel… all right,’ she said. ‘My head’s throbbing, but I don’t feel faint or sick like before.’
‘I thought as much. Anxiety, that’s all. In its worst form, it can feel as bad as the flu.’
‘Like Charlie,’ Bobby murmured.
‘Yes. His attacks are not dissimilar to what you experienced today.’ The doctor stood up. ‘Now go home, have something nutritious to eat and get some rest. No more missing meals, or you and I will be having words. By tomorrow morning, I’m certain both you and Marmaduke will be as right as rain.’
Bobby thanked Gertrude Minchin profusely when the doctor’s wife dropped her off at Church View.
She noticed a few curtains twitching along the row of houses.
No doubt the neighbours had recognised the doctor’s car and would be whispering about what that Mrs Atherton at Number 4 was doing clambering out of it, but they would know soon enough.