Flora shifted her weight as she tried to get comfortable in the armchair and glanced out of the cottage window to where Constance, her four-year-old daughter, was playing in the garden. Spring was upon them and daffodils and primulas were peeping through the earth but it still tended to be cold in the wind so Flora had made sure the child was well wrapped up in a warm coat and bright red hat, scarf and gloves that she had knitted for her. She smiled fondly as she watched her gambolling about the garden with her puppy, a mischievous Jack Russell terrier that she and Jamie had bought the child for her last birthday. The two of them were inseparable. Patch, as Constance had named him, even slept on the child’s bed at night.
She turned her attention back to the room then to make sure that everything was just right for her mother’s arrival. Jamie had gone to meet her from the train and they should be home very soon now, provided the train was on time. She had planned to go to London to attend church with her mother for the Mother’s Day service, which was the next day, but because she was so advanced in her pregnancy her mother had decided that it might be safer if she came to Flora instead. Now the little cottage in Mancetter that had been a wedding present from Sunday and Tom, Jamie’s adoptive parents, gleamed from top to bottom and a cheery fire was burning in the grate, turning the highly polished brass fender to molten gold.
She smiled reflectively. The last four years had been full of ups and downs. She and Jamie had married in the tiny church in Mancetter – the village where they now lived – before he left for his army training, and the time they had shared before he left to fight had been all too brief. And then two months later, Flora had discovered that she was carrying his child. Little Connie was now referred to as their honeymoon baby, but she had been two years old before Jamie finally got to meet her when he was shipped home after being shot in the leg during the Battle of the Somme.
Flora had prayed that this would be the end of the fighting for him but once the leg had healed somewhat, Jamie had insisted on going back. Shortly after, his leg had become infected and gangrene had almost cost him his life. Flora had spent weeks in a hospital in Plymouth with him after he had been shipped home for the second time, as he hovered between life and death, until the surgeons finally decided that the only way to save him would be to amputate his leg below the knee.
Jamie had been devastated whereas Flora was simply relieved when at last, following the operation, he slowly started to make a recovery. However, when he finally returned home on crutches, Jamie was a changed man and had slipped into a deep depression.
‘What use am I to man or beast now?’ he would ask Flora as she tenderly nursed him back to health.
‘You’re alive, that’s all that matters,’ she would tell him over and over again. But Jamie had seen sights that would haunt him forever. His best friend had died in his arms on the battlefield and there had been nothing whatsoever that Jamie could do to save him. He had seen men buried still alive in thick cloying mud and lived in rat-infested trenches, and it had taken a long, long time for him finally to return to being the man she had known before he went to war. Thankfully the year after he lost his leg he was fitted with a prosthesis and although he had suffered terribly getting used to it, it made him feel like a man again and once he had learned to walk on it he had found himself a job in the post office sorting office in Nuneaton, which had given him back his pride.
There had been a difficult time again last year when she had given birth to a stillborn son, which brought back horrible memories of poor Jai Li’s ordeal, as well as the little soul she had been unable to protect on the Titanic. She and Jamie had grieved deeply for the little boy, and though she knew she was not to blame, Flora had felt guilty; she knew how much Jamie longed for a son. On top of which, after all the tragedy of the previous years, the baby had represented hope for the future for them. But now, with this new little one about to arrive, they had managed to come to terms with their loss.
During the time Jamie had been away, Flora had grown very close to Sunday and Tom, and sometimes she wondered how she would have coped without them. Sunday was a regular visitor to the cottage and she never came without some sort of treat or sweeties for Connie, who she adored. Her love was returned and the child lovingly referred to her as Nanny Sunshine.
Leaning over to the small table beside her, Flora picked up the latest letter from Colleen in Ireland. It had come just a few days before and was already much read, as was the one that had arrived shortly before hers from Jia Li in New York. Both families were still thriving and doing well and Colleen and Ben were now the proud parents of two-year-old twin boys and two girls who were three and five. Jia Li and Bai also had a boy and a girl and in her latest letter, Jia Li told Flora that Hilda had now moved into the rooms above the café with Hattie and the two women were as thick as thieves. Happily, Ernie and Tilly were also awaiting the arrival of their first baby. She glanced impatiently at the clock again only to have her thoughts interrupted by a whoop of glee from Connie outside who had spotted her granny and her daddy walking along the lane.
‘They’re here, Mammy,’ the child called and with a wide smile on her face Flora hauled herself out of the chair and waddled to the door.
‘Why, just look at you! You’re the size of a house.’ Emily grinned as Flora swayed down the garden path towards her. ‘That’s got to be a boy or I’ll eat my hat.’ A shadow temporarily flitted across Flora’s face as she experienced another sharp twinge, they’d been coming on and off all day, but then they were in each other’s arms as Connie and the dog danced around them.
Eventually they all went inside and Emily glanced around the little cottage appreciatively.
‘Well, you’ve got this nice, love,’ she commented as she drew off her gloves and took the pin from her hat. The dresser that stood against one wall was full of Flora’s best china and the table that took up the centre of the room had been scrubbed until it was almost white. Gay floral curtains hung at the windows and on the floor in front of the hearth was a large, colourful peg rug that had taken Flora many months to make out of any scraps of material that she could find. A small horsehair sofa adorned with comfy cushions stood to one side of the fire and on the other was Jamie’s favourite wing chair with another identical one positioned in the window where they could sit and admire the garden.
‘We like it,’ Flora answered modestly as she placed the kettle on the hob to make some tea, although she could have said she actually loved it and had no idea how she would ever be able to thank Sunday and Tom enough for providing them with such a grand little home.
‘But now tell me about everyone at home,’ Flora urged and so for the next hour as they relaxed with a large pot of tea and a jam sponge that Flora had made especially for the occasion, Emily did just that. Eventually the afternoon darkened and Emily bathed Connie in the tin bath before the fire and slipped her into her nightdress before giving her springy damp curls a good rub with the towel.
‘Will you tell me a story, Granny Ems?’ Connie pleaded. ‘The one you told me the last time you came about the princess and the pea?’
Emily smiled indulgently. ‘I think I could manage that but let’s get this hair dry first, miss. We don’t want you going to bed with it wet, now, do we?’
Flora and Jamie exchanged an amused glance. Connie had clearly got her granny wrapped around her little finger but then that was no bad thing as far as they were concerned. She didn’t see quite as much of Granny Ems as she did of Nanny Sunshine because of her living so far away in London, but when they did get together they certainly made up for lost time.
‘Are you looking forward to the service tomorrow, pet?’ Jamie asked Flora affectionately when Emily had gone off to tuck Connie into bed.
‘I certainly am.’ The Mother’s Day service at the church was one of Flora’s favourites and she never missed it, but this year it would be extra special with a new little life about to make an appearance.
Later that night as she lay in their soft, feather bed with Jamie snoring softly beside her and an owl hooting in the tree outside the bedroom window, Flora sighed with contentment as she considered how lucky she was. And then, as the child inside her became still, she took advantage of the fact and quickly fell asleep.
A niggling pain in the small of her back woke Flora in the small hours of the morning and not wanting to disturb Jamie she inched towards the edge of the bed and quietly pulled her dressing robe on before making her way downstairs as quietly as she could.
Jamie had damped the fire down with tea leaves the night before but now she quickly gave the dying embers a rake and threw some logs on it before beginning to pace up and down the room.
It’ll probably go off in a minute and just be a false alarm, she tried to reassure herself but the pain persisted, in fact, if anything, it was getting slightly worse. Still, Flora was determined not to disturb anyone. She had been in labour for hours and hours with Connie so she wasn’t panicking as yet. At last she saw the first fingers of dawn touch the sky and soon it began to get lighter.
It was Emily who found her still pacing the kitchen when she came down shortly before seven o’clock in the morning.
‘You’re an early bird,’ she said brightly, smothering a yawn. ‘I thought I’d be the first up and about. I wanted to treat you and Jamie to breakfast in bed an’ give meself plenty o’ time to get ready for the Mother’s Day service …’ She stopped abruptly as she saw the way Flora was holding her back and asked, ‘Is it the baby coming?’
Flora nodded. ‘I think it might be, Ma. I was having pains all day yesterday on and off but they got worse in the night.’ Even as she spoke she felt a warm gush between her legs and she glanced down to see a small puddle on the flagstones.
‘It’s coming all right,’ Emily chuckled. ‘Come on now, sit yourself down and have a cuppa while you can then I’ll get Jamie up to go an’ fetch the midwife. I’ve a feelin’ we won’t be goin’ to church this mornin’.’
‘Oh, but you must go,’ Flora protested. ‘Sunday is picking us up in the carriage.’
Emily grinned. ‘I doubt she’ll be goin’ anywhere either when she knows her next gran’child is about to make an appearance.’ All the time she was talking she was bustling about, preparing the cups and the teapot and soon they were sitting with steaming drinks in front of them. Flora’s pain had moved around to the front by then and had grown much stronger.
Jamie found them sitting there soon after and when he realised what was happening he flew into a panic.
‘Shall I run for the midwife?’
‘No, not yet awhile, pet,’ Emily said calmingly. ‘Just sit yourself down and get this inside you. I’ll tell you when it’s time to go for the nurse.’
Jamie obediently did as he was told although he never once took his eyes off his wife and was as nervy as a cat on hot bricks. Amazingly little Connie was still sleeping like a top, so at least he didn’t have to worry about her as well.
Just before ten o’clock, Emily told him, ‘I reckon it’s time to fetch her now, pet. This little ’un seems to be very keen to put in an appearance.’
Jamie was off like a shot, his face as white as chalk. While he was gone, Emily helped Flora into bed while she huffed and puffed through yet another contraction.
‘I … I feel like I want to push,’ Flora croaked as they heard a coach pull up outside.
Sunday’s voice floated up the stairs soon afterwards. ‘Hello, are you in?’
‘We’re up here, come on up,’ Emily shouted and the next minute Sunday appeared in the bedroom door looking very elegant and sophisticated in an ankle-length two-piece costume and a matching hat.
‘Y-you’d best go on without us,’ Flora grunted through her pains. ‘I, er … seem to be otherwise engaged.’
‘What? Go and miss this, not on your nelly!’ Sunday said and pulling her hat off she sent it sailing across the room before hurrying towards the bed.
‘I … I do need to push,’ Flora yelped then as she went red in the face and Sunday caught her hand and gripped it as Emily yanked the bed clothes back to have a look what was happening.
‘Good Lord … I can see the baby’s head,’ she said in amazement as she hastily rolled her sleeves up. ‘That’s it, pet. Now … on the next pain push as hard as ever you can … That’s it … good girl … and again!’
Unbidden Flora’s mind flew back to the birth of her little boy the previous year and she began to panic. What if that happened again? It had been her biggest fear throughout this pregnancy, although she had never admitted it to anyone.
She squirmed on the bed. ‘I … I can’t do it,’ she whimpered through gritted teeth. ‘Where’s the midwife?’
‘Never mind about her for now, you’ve got me,’ her mother told her calmly. ‘An’ you of all people should know how many babies I’ve helped into the world. Now come on, girl! Push for all you’re worth, we’re almost there!’
And so Flora dropped her chin to her chest and strained with all her might and suddenly, with one last push, a newborn baby’s wail echoed around the room and it was surely the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
‘Wh-what is it? Is it all right?’ she asked weakly as she dropped back onto the pillows.
Sunday was crying tears of joy as Emily hastily cut the cord and wrapped the baby in a towel she had laid ready before handing the babe to its mother just as Jamie and the midwife burst into the room.
‘I’m afraid you’re a bit late,’ Emily told them with a broad smile. ‘Jamie, come and say hello to your brand-new little son. He’s a whopper and a little beauty into the bargain.’
Jamie stopped dead in his tracks as he looked towards the bed where Flora was cradling her new son with a look of pure delight on her face.
‘Oh, Jamie, he looks just like you,’ she breathed as he approached the bed. ‘I thought we could call him James Thomas?’
Too full of emotion to speak, Jamie nodded his happy approval and at that moment little Connie appeared in the doorway knuckling the sleep from her eyes and demanded, ‘Where’s my breakfast? I’m hungry.’ Then seeing what her mother held in her arms she moved to the bed and slipped her tiny hand into her father’s.
‘Has the stork brought our new baby, Daddy?’ she asked innocently and tears of pure joy sprang to Jamie’s eyes as he nodded.
‘Yes, sweetheart. The stork brought you a brand-new baby brother to love.’
‘Shall we go an’ leave this little family to get acquainted, ladies?’ Emily asked. ‘I don’t know about you but I could murder a cup o’ tea. Me mouth’s as dry as the bottom of a bird cage!’
Sunday and Emily edged towards the door with the midwife close behind. Downstairs, Emily was pouring the tea when Sunday began to giggle. ‘Well, I have to say the present she’s given us for Mother’s Day this year is going to take some beating, isn’t it? It’s isn’t every Mother’s Day you get presented with a lovely little grandson, is it?’
Emily nodded in agreement and they all smiled and raised their mugs in a toast to the beautiful new member of the family.
‘To our new little beauty, James Thomas Branning,’ Sunday said and they clinked their mugs together as they thought of the new little soul they had been blessed with, nestling safe and sound in his mother’s arms upstairs. It would certainly be a Mother’s Day none of them would ever forget.