‘Eudora? Eudora, did you hear me? We need your help. The baby’s coming.’
Eudora is jolted back to the present but the tang of the past lingers like sour milk. ‘I can’t.’
Rose blinks. Once. Twice. Eudora can see that the threat of tears is imminent. ‘But there’s nobody else. You’re the only one I can ask.’
A shutter-click memory of a desperate plea from the past rattles her.
You’re the only one.
Eudora does her best to banish it. ‘Wouldn’t it be best to phone the emergency services?’
Rose shakes her head. ‘Mum doesn’t do hospitals. We’ve called Beth the midwife but she’s not going to get here for another half hour and Mum says the baby’s coming now.’ Eudora hesitates. Rose touches her on the arm. ‘Please, Eudora.’
Eudora stares past Rose. ‘I’m too old for this.’
‘And I’m too young.’
They stare at one another in a moment of mutual, ageless understanding.
We’re the same, you and I. The helpless ones. And we must stick together.
‘Fetch me my stick, please.’
Rose moves quickly and without any of her usual chirpiness. ‘Here you go,’ she says. ‘Now, please don’t think I’m being rude but we need to get back to Mum. She’s making a terrible noise and I don’t think she should be on her own.’
‘Of course. Yes. Come along.’ Eudora follows behind Rose, doing her best to hurry. She is pleased to note that she no longer feels tired. Adrenaline is a powerful thing. ‘Where’s your father?’ she asks as they enter Rose’s house to be greeted by what sounds like an animal keening. Eudora’s heart quickens.
‘On his way back from somewhere or other. I can’t remember the name. I’m giving him half hourly updates.’ Rose leads her down the hall into the lounge. Maggie has her back to them. She is standing with arms and legs wide, like a human star, bracing herself against the wall, puffing in and out. She takes a deep breath before emitting a low, steady roar. Eudora finds herself unable to do anything but stare.
‘Mummy? Are you okay?’ asks Rose, fear edging her voice.
Eudora realises that she needs to take charge but remains paralysed with fear.
‘S’okay, s’okay, Rose,’ says Maggie, glancing over her shoulder. ‘The baby’s coming and I need to push when I get the contraction,’ she breathes. Maggie winces as another contraction arrives. She screws up her face as she pushes and bellows again.
‘Eudora?’ says Rose in a small voice, eyes pleading and desperate. ‘Please help her.’
Tentatively, Eudora reaches out and touches Maggie lightly on the shoulder. She responds by turning to face her and grasping her hand. Her touch is cool but strong. It emboldens Eudora.
‘I’m here,’ she says. ‘And so is Rose. Everything is going to be fine. You’re doing very well.’ She hopes this is true. Please let this baby be all right. Please let her be all right. Maggie nods rapidly. ‘Rose, I think we could do with some towels. As many as you can find, please. And do you remember how I taught you to boil the kettle? Could you do that too?’
‘Aye, aye, captain,’ says Rose, back to her old self. She dashes out of the door. ‘I remember this bit from episodes of Call the Midwife. I’m glad you’re here, Eudora. I was getting a bit scared.’
Eudora looks into Maggie’s eyes and squeezes her hand. ‘She’ll be fine. And you will too.’
Rose returns moments later with half a dozen towels, just as Maggie stops puffing again and begins to push and roar anew. ‘Is Mummy okay?’ asks Rose, her face pale.
‘She’s fine,’ says Eudora, sending up a fresh prayer. ‘But we have to support her. I need you to put down some of the towels so she can stand on them. And then you hold her other hand so she knows you’re here.’
Maggie moves onto the towels, which Rose has placed on the floor. She takes Rose’s hand and kisses it. ‘Don’t be scared. I know what I’m doing. I remember it from when you arrived in the world. I love you and I’m glad you’re here.’
‘I love you too, Mummy,’ says Rose, tears forming in her eyes as her mother pushes again.
Eudora watches with horrified fascination as the top of the baby’s head appears.
‘Is that …?’ begins Rose, gaping at Eudora.
Eudora nods, all fear elbowed out of the way by new life. ‘Your sister is coming, Rose. All right, Maggie? You’re doing very well. Keep going.’
Maggie is puffing and nodding. ‘This time,’ she breathes. ‘I think it will be this time.’
‘Okay, Rose,’ says Eudora. ‘You keep holding your mother’s hand and I will be ready with the towel to take the baby.’
‘Like in rugby when the ball pops out of the scrum?’ asks Rose, eyes wide and eager.
Eudora gives her an encouraging smile. ‘If you like.’ She notices Maggie screw her eyes tightly shut. ‘Come on, Maggie. You can do this,’ she says, holding out a fresh clean towel.
‘Yes, Mummy, you can do it!’ cries Rose.
Maggie lets out the roar of women the world over, announcing new life, new hope – a gift to the universe. Eudora accepts the gift, a tiny, bloody form, sticky and perfect. As Maggie lowers herself to the floor, Eudora wraps this new being in the towel, gently wiping her nose and mouth. The baby replies with a piercing cry as if announcing herself to the assembled company.
‘I hope she’s not going to do that all the time,’ says Rose.
They laugh as Eudora hands over the precious parcel to her mother. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you. Really, Eudora. I don’t know what we would have done without you.’
‘It was all down to you, Maggie. You were magnificent,’ she tells her with a shiver of admiration.
There’s an urgent knock at the door. Rose runs off to answer it, returning moments later with a cheery bustling lady. ‘Now then. I hear someone has delivered their baby all by themselves,’ she says. ‘Congratulations.’
‘I couldn’t have done it without Eudora and Rose,’ says Maggie.
‘Well done. Both of you,’ says the woman. ‘I’m Beth. Sorry I missed all the fun. Now, Rose, would you like to cut your sister’s cord?’
‘Okay,’ says Rose. ‘We boiled some hot water. Do you need it?’
‘You’re amazing,’ says Beth. ‘Take me to the kitchen and I will sort everything.’ Rose leads her away. Eudora is left watching Maggie nurse her new daughter.
‘She’s perfect,’ says Eudora, admiring the baby’s delicate features.
‘Thank you,’ says Maggie.
‘I’ve decided I want to be a midwife when I grow up,’ says Rose, returning with Beth. ‘I already have experience and Beth says that bringing new life into the world is the best job there is.’
‘It’s true,’ says Beth, as she sets about clamping the cord so Rose can cut it. ‘Here you go, Rose,’ she adds, handing her the scissors.
‘I declare this cord cut!’ cries Rose. Everyone laughs.
‘Excellent work,’ says Beth. ‘And now I need to check your Mum over and help her deliver the placenta. Would you like to watch?’
‘Euw, no, sounds disgusting,’ says Rose.
Beth laughs. ‘Perhaps this job isn’t for you after all. Could you and Eudora look after your baby sister for me while I do that, please?’
‘Of course,’ says Rose. ‘Although it might be better if Eudora holds her.’
‘All right,’ says Beth. ‘Why don’t you sit on the sofa in there,’ she suggests, pointing towards the room next door.
Eudora does as she says and Rose settles next to her. Beth places the baby, who has drifted off to sleep, in Eudora’s arms. ‘Hello, Daisy,’ says Rose. ‘I’m your big sister, Rose. And this is my best friend, Eudora.’ Her words wrap themselves around Eudora’s heart as she looks down at the world’s newest inhabitant. ‘She doesn’t do much, does she?’ says Rose.
Eudora laughs. ‘True, but it won’t be long before she’s running rings round you.’
Rose shrugs. ‘I’ll have to come to your house if she gets annoying.’ Rose leaps to her feet. The baby’s eyes snap open. ‘I forgot to call Daddy!’ she cries. ‘Back in a sec.’
Eudora and the baby eye one another. ‘That’s your sister,’ she tells her. ‘She never stops moving. I know you’re going to have a lot of fun with her. You’re a very lucky girl. Please be kind to her always. Don’t treat her like Stella treated me.’ The baby gives a small squeak as if she understands and continues to gaze up at her. Eudora knows that babies can’t focus at this age but there’s something about the way Daisy’s eyes travel over her face, as if she’s drinking her in, studying her soul. That gaze is like a blessing to Eudora, reminding her of a time when she could have helped another mother and child but didn’t. This time she did help. It’s only when she notices a tear land on Daisy’s cheek that she realises she’s crying.
* * *
Eudora takes her leave when Rob returns, despite Rose begging her to stay and celebrate.
‘We’re going to wet the baby’s head or something,’ she says.
‘Thank you but I’m going to go home. I’m rather tired after all this drama,’ she tells her. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Rose,’ warns her father.
‘Eudora doesn’t mind. She likes it,’ says Rose.
Eudora doesn’t contradict her. ‘I daresay.’ She smiles at the brand-new family of four. ‘Congratulations. She’s beautiful.’
‘Thank you,’ says Rose, who is nestled very close to her mother and sister on the sofa now.
Rob walks Eudora to the front door. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right from here?’ he jokes.
Eudora smiles. ‘Take care of them.’
‘I will.’ He leans forward and kisses her on the cheek. ‘Thank you for being there. You saved the day.’
Eudora holds his gaze for a moment. ‘It was a privilege.’
She experiences that same light-headed feeling as she retreats back to her house. It’s all the excitement, she tells herself, all that adrenaline coursing round my body. Eudora is exhausted but knows she won’t be able to fall asleep for a while. She makes some tea and settles once again in her armchair. She looks around the room, as if searching for someone with whom to share the wonderful news. Montgomery sleeps, oblivious, on the sofa.
‘Well you’re not much use,’ she says. She glances at the phone and a thought enters her mind. Would it be too late to call? She’s not sure if the number is a home or work one but decides to try all the same.
She hears a long steady ring, followed by another and another. She is about to give up when a voice answers.
‘Konrad?’
‘Is that Petra?’
‘Yes. Is that Eudora?’
‘How did you know?’
‘I recognise your voice. Plus, I don’t get many calls from English people at home.’
‘Is this a good time?’
‘Oh yes, of course. I told you to call any time and I’m very glad you did. I am pleasantly surprised, as you like to say.’
Eudora is drawn in by the warmth in her voice. It makes her want to tell Petra everything. ‘I wanted to share some good news.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘Yes. My neighbour, Rose? Her mother had a baby. And I helped deliver her.’
‘Oh, Eudora. That’s wonderful. I know it’s not your baby but I congratulate you. And to help deliver the child. That must have been incredible.’
‘It was like a miracle, Petra.’
‘The miracle of life, right?’
The pause says everything. ‘Yes. Yes, it was exactly that.’
‘I am glad you called to tell me this, Eudora. You sound so happy.’
Another pause, this time as the idea sinks in. ‘I am.’ She would like to tell Petra her truth, to share the story of her sister and the baby who died because of her, of how Daisy’s birth feels like an absolution. She will always carry the guilt but its burden has lightened somehow.
‘Thank you, Eudora.’
‘For what?’
‘For calling. I am honoured that you wanted to share this news with me.’
‘Thank you, Petra.’
‘Take care of yourself, Eudora.’
‘You too.’
Eudora decides it really is time for bed now. The cat follows her upstairs and as soon as she is in bed, he leaps up and settles by her feet. Eudora is surprised. He is a habitual night-prowler and a prodigious mouser. However, she finds his gentle breathing to be a welcome presence as she drifts off into an unusually easy and deep sleep.
* * *
The chapel building looked resplendent in the mid-morning autumn sunshine, its tower cloaked in a thick layer of blood-red ivy. Eudora shivered at the sight of it, pulling her collar up around her throat, quickening her pace as the sky darkened and sharp darts of rain began to fall. The priest greeted her in the doorway with a cursory nod. He was a serious, distracted-looking individual, who had been more than a little off-hand when they met to discuss the arrangements. Eudora supposed he didn’t relish having to deal with a woman, but then she didn’t relish having to arrange her twenty-one-year-old sister’s funeral. Life was unfair sometimes.
She took her place at the front of the chapel, eyes fixed forwards. She didn’t want to acknowledge the other mourners or the fact that there were so few of them. She was the only family member present. Her mother had refused to come and wouldn’t allow Eudora to let the relatives on her father’s side know about Stella’s death.
‘They will pity us,’ she said with a hint of venom. ‘And I will not be pitied.’
Eudora could hear the whispers and sniffles behind her now. She recognised a couple of the voices as friends of Stella’s.
‘I can’t believe it.’
‘She was so young.’
‘How could this happen?’
‘She wrote to me last year. Said she wanted to come home.’
‘Why didn’t she then?’
The speaker lowered the volume of her voice so that her reply was inaudible to Eudora but she knew what she was saying.
It’s her fault. Her sister wouldn’t speak to her. She’s so bitter and spiteful. She couldn’t see past her selfish feelings to help her own flesh and blood.
Eudora’s version of the truth churned over and over in her head as it did constantly these days.
‘Please stand,’ said the priest.
Eudora kept her eyes fixed forwards as her sister was brought in. She heard the sobs intensify and watched as the pallbearers placed the coffin on the supports with care, placed the small spray of yellow roses on top and bowed before taking their leave.
It was a short service but it seemed like an eternity to Eudora. There were no hymns or music, no celebration of a life well-lived. Eudora didn’t listen to the priest’s words, to his prayers or blessings or hollow eulogy. There was no comfort or consolation to be garnered today. This was the time to accept her responsibility, to face the guilt and pain. She stared at the coffin, thinking about the two people inside. Two lives lost: one half-lived, the other never begun. She could have saved them both.
The rain was hammering on the windows now, the wind rattling at the doors. Eudora looked around fearfully as if her sister were the cause of the tempest. She wouldn’t put it past her. Stella had thrived on drama in her life. Why should her death be any different?
The priest had to raise his voice to give the final commendation and blessing, before the curtains were drawn and the mourners departed. Eudora remained, motionless, gazing at the pink velvet curtain. She didn’t want to speak to anyone. She would wait until everyone had gone before taking her leave.
‘Eudora?’
She started at the voice close behind her. She turned and hurried to her feet in surprise. ‘Sam.’ Instinctively, she held out her hand.
He shook it gently, staring into her eyes with smiling kindness. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss, Eudora.’
‘Thank you. I’m touched that you came.’
‘How is your mother?’
There were a dozen ways she could answer this, leading to another dozen excuses and lies. ‘She’s not well, which meant that she was unable to come today.’ It was only a half-lie.
‘I’m sorry to hear that. Please pass on my condolences.’
‘I will. Thank you.’ They looked around at the empty chapel, sensing that it was time to leave.
‘Would you like a lift home?’ asked Sam.
‘That’s very kind of you but I thought I might take a stroll around the gardens. Clear my head a little.’
‘Of course.’ This was Sam’s cue to leave but he stayed where he was. ‘Would it be all right if I accompanied you? We don’t need to talk, unless you want to. I could do with clearing my head too.’
‘Oh. Well, of course.’
Eudora took one final glance at the closed curtain before walking out into the open with Sam. The rain had stopped but a chill wind remained as the sun struggled to break through the haze. Eudora tucked her scarf up around her neck for warmth as they made their way through the graveyards.
‘Funny place for a stroll, eh?’ said Sam.
‘Mmm,’ agreed Eudora. ‘At least it’s peaceful.’ It was a beautiful setting, the graves and gardens well-tended. The golden leaves on the surrounding trees made everything look majestic.
‘And how are you, Eudora?’ asked Sam. His voice sounded serious.
‘I’m all right, thank you.’ It was the best she could manage.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Daft question.’
‘It’s all right. It’s kind of you to ask. How are you? I heard you got married and had children. Congratulations.’ She hadn’t actually heard this. She’d only seen them in the park.
Sam sighed. ‘Thank you. I do have two children. But unfortunately my wife and I are getting divorced.’
‘Oh.’
‘That’s what my mother said when I told her. And then she ranted about the shame I would bring on the family. And she hasn’t spoken to me since.’
‘Oh dear. I’m sorry.’
Sam shrugged. ‘Don’t be. You’ve got bigger fish to fry. That’s partly why I wanted to clear my head.’
Eudora looked up at him. He had aged well. His face had a lived-in appearance but he was still handsome with flecks of grey peppering his neatly Brylcreemed hair. ‘I’m glad you did.’
Sam smiled. Eudora was ashamed to feel her heart lift. She was supposed to be in mourning. Sack cloth and ashes and no joy. And yet, it felt good to spend a moment like this. ‘It’s nice to see you, Eudora. I’ve often wondered how you were getting on. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if we could keep in touch?’
The rain was starting to fall again. Eudora put up her umbrella and gazed at him. ‘Not at all. I’d like that.’
After Sam had gone, Eudora walked back towards the chapel. She thought about going to take one last look at the flowers, to keep one to press but decided against it. Instead, she kept on walking in the wind and rain. She folded away her umbrella and gritted her teeth, wanting to feel each stinging drop.
The pale roses trembled in the storm, their butter-yellows petals flecked with water droplets. A card flapped in the breeze, its words melting away in the rain. Two words. One plea.
‘Forgive me.’
The storm raged on.