She stopped and gave a yell. ‘Oh! God …’ She bent over again, and Peggy couldn’t make up her mind whether or not she was playacting. It seemed to be happening too fast.
There came another quiet knock. ‘Tell that little—’ Susan uttered an expletive, ‘to stay downstairs and stop bothering me.’
But it was Aaron outside the door. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Shall I wait a bit afore going out in case you need owt?’
‘Just stop till our Jack comes back wi’ midwife, will you?’ Peggy whispered back. ‘And then you get off, but don’t let ’kettle and pan boil dry!’
‘Righty ho!’
Peggy gave a rueful smile as she pictured Aaron tiptoeing back down the stairs, anxious to be doing the right thing, which was impossible with a woman like Susan. No matter how sorry she says she is, Peggy thought, she always manages to blame somebody else.
They both heard the rattle of wheels in the yard. ‘Here they are,’ she said with relief. ‘Here’s ’midwife.’
‘Yes, I heard,’ Susan said impatiently. ‘They took their time.’ She straightened up again. ‘I’m ready to get back into bed if you’ll help me in.’ She sat on the edge of the mattress and Peggy heaved her legs up and put a pillow behind her back.
‘I’ll go and ask if she needs anything,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to stop, or—’
‘No, I’ll be all right now she’s here,’ Susan said. ‘She’s been to all of my confinements. She knows what she’s doing. I wouldn’t mind another cup o’ tea, though, if you’re mekking one,’ she added.
Peggy saw her making herself comfortable, covering her legs with a blanket and shuffling on the pillow. ‘I’ll mek a pot,’ she said. ‘Mebbe Mrs Glover will have one too, if there’s time for you both to drink it!’
If her last words were meant to be sarcastic, Susan didn’t respond, but just lay back on her pillow and closed her eyes.
The midwife had taken off her coat and was washing her hands in the scullery sink. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Mrs Robinson,’ she called out to Peggy. ‘Your son said it was urgent.’
‘No, not a bit,’ Peggy said. ‘There’s a clean towel in ’top drawer. I can’t tell if it’s urgent or not. Susan says it’s coming, but’ – she glanced up at the clock – ‘it’s less than an hour since she felt ’first pain.’
‘Less than an hour! Well, that’s far too soon. Somebody’ll have to tek me home if it’s a wasted journey.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Peggy said. ‘I’ll tek you myself if Jack can’t.’
Peggy heard Mrs Glover mumbling to herself as she huffed and puffed up the stairs. The children were still chattering and laughing in the parlour and she decided she’d let them play for a little longer before bedtime if the birth of Susan’s baby was imminent.
She’d made the tea and put a cosy over the teapot when Jack came in.
‘Is owt happening?’ He took off his jacket and sat down.
‘Midwife’s gone up. We’ll know in a minute.’ She poured him a cup of tea.
He took a deep gulp of his drink and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘I’m fed up wi’ this, Ma,’ he muttered.
She gave a small scoff. ‘You’re the one who’s fathering ’em!’
‘I don’t mean just ’bairns; it’s all of ’bickering that goes on.’ He lifted a finger to stop her sharp rejoinder. ‘And I don’t mean between you and Susan, I mean between me and her. She’s never satisfied wi’ owt I do or say, and even if we get another place it won’t stop.’
‘You’ll still have to move, Jack,’ she said softly. ‘You chose her as your wife and she’s your concern. You must find out why she’s unhappy; it might be different in her own place. But we’ll talk about ’bairns. You know we’ll do right by them, and—’
But Mrs Glover was calling from upstairs, and Peggy got up to answer her. ‘And especially Molly,’ she concluded, going to the door.
‘Can you come up, Mrs Robinson?’ Mrs Glover said in an urgent whisper. ‘Bring a bowl of hot water and a clean empty one and some clean cloths. Ask her husband not to go out. I’m afraid we have some difficulty here.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Peggy collected the items that the midwife had asked for and told Jack not to go out as he might be needed. He nodded, but didn’t ask if Susan was all right. As Peggy approached the bedroom door she heard the midwife say, ‘You’re a silly, stupid woman.’
‘I’ve told you, I haven’t done anything.’ Susan abruptly stopped speaking when Peggy came in.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
Mrs Glover shook her head, her lips pinched tightly together, and then took a heaving breath and said, ‘I don’t hold out much hope for this babby, Mrs Robinson, and that’s a fact.’ She carefully took the bowl of hot water and cloths from Peggy. ‘And ’other bowl?’ she asked.
‘I couldn’t carry ’em both. I’ll just get it.’
‘Leave it outside ’bedroom door, if you please,’ the midwife said. ‘I’ll get it when I’m ready.’
‘Did you mek that tea?’ Susan said from the bed. Her face was flushed and her hair wet with perspiration.
‘You can have tea when we’re done here,’ Mrs Glover told her abruptly, reaching for her large black bag. ‘You can have water for now. Bring a glass up and leave it with the bowl, will you?’ she asked Peggy, who said she would and hurried away again.
What’s happened? she thought. Why is Mrs Glover so sharp with her? Has Susan taken summat to bring ’child on?
She scurried downstairs again and an eruption of laughter came from the parlour as Rosie opened the door and headed for the kitchen. ‘Oh, Gran, I need ’privy now. Quick quick. Can I have a wee in ’yard?’
‘Yes, go on then. Don’t wet your drawers.’
Peggy drew water into a glass
