‘Congratulations, my dear!’ Dr Billingham said as he walked through the door that had been left open by the nurse who had just left. He came over to the bed and peered down at baby Arthur, who was fast asleep, having had a hearty feed.
‘You have a perfect little boy there. Perfectly gorgeous and perfectly healthy.’ Dr Billingham had given both mother and baby a good checking over after their admittance.
‘Your husband is going to be a very proud father – talking of which, do you want my secretary to send a telegram to Petty Officer Watts to tell him the good news?’
Polly’s face lit up. She had been thinking of Tommy constantly, wishing he was there, imagining he was there, talking to him in her head, telling him all about their little creation and how perfect he was.
‘Oh, yes, please! That would be wonderful! Thank you! Thank you for everything, Dr Billingham.’
‘Righty-ho, I’ll get on the case,’ Dr Billingham said, turning to leave.
‘Before you go …’ Polly leant forward and made to hand Arthur over. ‘Do you want to hold him – say a proper hello?’
‘Why not, eh?’ Dr Billingham took the swaddled baby.
Polly looked up at the man who had been there for her these past six months. She watched him staring down at little Arthur and thought she saw a shard of sadness.
‘Hopefully your Mary will meet someone soon, get married and give you a lovely little grandson or granddaughter to carry on the Billingham line.’
‘Oh, wouldn’t that’ve been nice,’ he said, taking a last look and handing Arthur back.
‘There’s still time,’ Polly said, wanting to cheer him up. ‘She’s still young. Hardly an old maid.’
Dr Billingham put his hands on his hips. Took a deep breath.
‘Right, best get that telegram off.’ He glanced down at Arthur. ‘Try and get some sleep. You’ll be needing it!’
And with that he was gone.
Bel was sitting on the side of Polly’s bed, holding baby Arthur in her arms. He was wrapped up in a white blanket that Agnes had brought up to the hospital. Tears were running down her face. She cuddled him gently and he reached up to touch her face.
Polly looked at her sister-in-law. Her eyes were wet too. How she wished for the day when their roles at this moment were reversed.
‘I’m crying because I’m happy, you know,’ Bel said, her words coming out a little choked.
Polly mouthed ‘I know.’ She was crying again; she hadn’t really stopped since Arthur had come into the world.
As they both cried and gazed at the very robust-looking baby boy who was gurgling away to himself and staring up at his aunty Bel with love and awe, Agnes bustled back into the room. She had a cup of tea.
‘Ah, thanks, Ma,’ Polly said.
‘Pfft!’ She nestled herself down in the armchair by the bed and took a sip. ‘I need this after all the stress ’n worry yer’ve caused yer auld ma today.’ She took another sip. ‘Yer’ve added another ten years.’ Another sip. She looked at her daughter and her daughter-in-law. Bel always looked such a natural with babies. ‘Well, that’s one lucky little lad there.’
Bel laughed and stood up.
‘One lucky and very heavy little lad,’ she said, handing Arthur back to Polly. ‘No wonder you were so big.’ Bel laughed lightly. ‘Ten pounds and two ounces!’
‘But, thank goodness, not twins, eh?’ Polly said, taking the baby and looking at her ma.
‘I was sure we were going to have twins in the family,’ Agnes said, shaking her head. ‘Not often I’m wrong.’