At last, she realised that the baby had stopped sucking and had fallen asleep at her breast. Gently, she carried him back to his crib at the foot of the bed and crept back under the covers, relieved to be able to close her eyes once more.
◆◆◆
Arthur had left for work by the time Norah woke to the sound of the baby crying. When he returned at six o’clock in the evening, he found the baby hot and fractious in his crib and Norah only just starting preparing their supper.
‘He’s been like this all day,’ she wailed as he walked through the door. ‘Crying for no reason. He doesn’t want feeding or changing, I’ve cuddled and rocked him for hours but nothing seems to work. I don’t know what to do!’
Arthur picked him up carefully and began to croon gently. ‘There now. Hush little man. What’s the matter?’ To Norah he added, ‘This parenting lark will be much easier when he can tell us what’s wrong. He’s very hot. Perhaps we should get the doctor to take a look at him?’
She shook her head. ‘I think he’s just hot because of all the crying. He’s worked himself into a proper state. There you go … you’ve got the magic touch.’ Jimmy’s cries had reduced to whimpers as he snuggled into Arthur’s shoulder. ‘I could have done with you here sooner,’ she added tartly. ‘I’ve got virtually nothing done all day and supper will be at least another half hour.’
‘Don’t fret yourself so.’ He gave her an encouraging smile. ‘No one said babies were easy. We’ll get through it.’
Norah remained silent as she finished vigorously chopping the carrots. It was all very well for him, she thought to herself. He could escape during the day. She was the one trapped in the situation.
‘I think he has got a bit of a cold, poor little mite,’ Arthur observed. ‘His nose is a bit runny and he sounds a bit wheezy. My ma always used to say a bit of fresh air was the best thing for a cold. Maybe tomorrow you could take him for a walk in the pram. Some fresh air would probably do you the world of good too.’
She shot him a venomous look but his attention was totally focused on the baby. Did he not think she would have taken him out had she enough time? He had no idea what her days were like! And what did he mean by saying she would benefit from fresh air? Was he suggesting that she was growing cranky? That thought gave her pause … well, maybe she was a bit grumpy but that was because she was so tired. Suddenly, she felt like bursting into tears.
‘Are you all right, Norah?’ Arthur was looking at her now, concern etched on his face. When she did not reply, he stood up and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘Look, I can see you’re beat. Why don’t you go and have a nap? I can finish getting supper ready.’
The thought of sleep was so appealing but her pride would not allow her to accept his offer. ‘I’m fine,’ she said gruffly. ‘We’ll have tea, I’ll feed Jimmy and then, if you don’t mind settling him, I’ll go straight to bed.’
‘Fair enough.’
The cloud of tension hanging over her made for an uncomfortable evening meal. Arthur did his best to entertain her with a steady stream of conversation but her replies were monosyllabic and eventually he lapsed into silence. Her depression since the birth of the baby seemed to be growing and he had no idea how to deal with it. He had sought advice from his friend Jack Richards but he could offer no advice.
‘The missus just seemed to get on with it when our two were born,’ he had shrugged. ‘Sorry mate, I can’t help you. I’ll have a word with Cissy though. She might have an idea.’
Cissy had told him that he needed to be supportive and ignore his wife’s moods. ‘It’s a big change for her,’ she had said, ‘And the poor thing’s exhausted. Things will soon settle down, you’ll see.’
Arthur had nodded solemnly. April was a busy time on the farm, sowing spring crops, or he would have asked for a bit of time off. He would just have to do as much as he could to help her when he was at home, he decided.
He watched her now, struggling to keep her eyes open as she fed Jimmy, and felt his heart melt with love for them both. Whatever it took, he thought fiercely, he would make sure they got back to the way things were. Things could only get better.
◆◆◆
The next morning Jimmy was clearly unwell. They had all endured another difficult night; he had struggled to feed and then been unwilling to settle. Arthur had spent many hours in the darkness, rocking him gently and murmuring words of comfort while Norah slept fitfully in between attempts to feed him. Now, Arthur had gone to work and Norah stood by the sink, retrieving nappies from the hot, soapy water in which they had been soaking and squeezing and rubbing them against the ridged surface of her washboard. She could hear the baby snuffling listlessly in his crib and tried to block out the sound. First, she needed to get the washing finished, put through the mangle and out on the line. It was a fine drying day and she knew she had to make the most of it. Tiredly, she rubbed her forehead with the back of a hand cracked and raw from the endless washing. She already felt condemned to a life of drudgery and the baby was only one month old.
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