Nula wasn’t aware of anything until she crashed through the door of the nursery and saw Chrissy standing there by the cot beneath the window. The girl was white-faced and staring.
‘What’s happened?’ said Nula, coming to the cot and reaching for her baby.
Chrissy stretched out a restraining hand. ‘You shouldn’t,’ she said.
‘What? Get out of the way, I’ll have a look at him, what’s the . . . ?’ Nula’s voice seemed to run out of air then. Her eyes were on the child in the cradle, and . . . oh Christ! . . . he looked blue. He didn’t seem to be breathing.
‘I fed him at three, put him back down, he was fine. And then when I came in at seven – he’s usually awake then – I found him like this . . .’ Chrissy’s voice tailed away.
Nula reached down a trembling hand to touch Jake’s tiny hand. It was cold.
‘Oh no. No. No,’ she heard herself saying, over and over. She couldn’t seem to stop. She was staggering as if someone had hit her. Her legs turned to water and she fell sideways into a chair. She sat there, staring, her eyes wide with shock and terror.
Chrissy was still standing there, wringing her hands, saying words, but all Nula could think was: No. This can’t be happening.
Harlan stood beside Nula, watching her, silent.
Chrissy was still speaking, but all Nula could hear was white noise.
‘What?’ she said at last. ‘What?’
‘We have to call someone,’ said Chrissy, her voice trembling. ‘The doctor. Someone.’
Nula stumbled to her feet, approached the cradle once again. ‘No,’ she said, and her voice had a manic edge to it now. ‘No.’ She picked up the baby and he flopped horribly, lifeless, in her arms. ‘No, he’s just . . . he’s tired that’s all. All that noise last night, that would be it. The party. He’s just tired.’
Chrissy was shaking her head, holding out a hand to Nula. ‘Mrs Stone, we have to tell someone about this. It . . . I’m so sorry. It’s ghastly but it happens.’
‘What does?’ Nula was cuddling Jake, but he seemed so still and so cold. In a moment he would wake up. Or maybe this was all a dream. She was still asleep and she was dreaming. That was it.
‘Mrs Stone,’ said Chrissy gently. ‘I should fetch Mr Stone, shall I do that?’
‘No, don’t,’ said Nula. She was bouncing the dead baby in her arms. ‘He’s tired – aintcha, Jakey? That’s all. It’s nothing. Don’t bother Charlie. Not yet.’
Nula sank down onto the chair, still cuddling the lifeless baby. At any minute she knew that Jake would be OK and everything would be fine again. Fuck’s sake, they’d only had him christened yesterday!
‘Mrs Stone,’ said Chrissy.
Nula’s face twisted in a snarl. ‘I said no!’ she shouted. ‘Go on, leave us alone, we’ll be fine, we’ll be absolutely fine . . .’
Chrissy recoiled at Nula’s tone. She nodded and held out a hand to Harlan and together they left the room. To find Charlie, Nula supposed. To tell him . . .
No!
She couldn’t even think it. Nula started to sob, her tears falling onto her baby.