Unspoken: A story of secrets, love and revenge T. Belshaw (good books to read for beginners txt) 📖

reminded Frank that we had a telephone and we could ring the doctor or midwife if we needed one.

‘Can I use, it?’ he asked. ‘I’ll ring The Old Bull and get them to bring my mother to the phone. I’d like to be the one to tell her she’s going to be a grandma.’

‘Of course, Frank, you know where it is,’ I said. I sipped the super-sweet tea, pulled a face and tried to hand it back to Miriam, but she was having none of it.

‘Drink it, it will do you good.’ She sounded like my old teacher when I refused to drink the play time, runny, watery milk.

Frank came back, still in panic mode. He obviously didn’t realise what he was saying.

‘You haven’t had it yet then?’

I patted my stomach. ‘No, it’s still in there.’

‘I couldn’t find your midwife’s number,’ he said.

‘That’s because I haven’t got a midwife, and there are none listed in the directory, at lease none are advertising. You can run through all the names from A to Z to see if anyone has added ‘Midwife’ to their listing, but I doubt you’ll find one, Frank.’

He raced back through to the front room again. When he came back, he looked full of himself.

‘I’ve found one,’ he said.

‘One what?’ I teased.

‘A midwife,’ he answered. ‘I rang The Old Bull again. My mum was still there, she knows everyone in the town and she says we have a choice of three.’ He listed them by counting on his fingers.

‘One. Mrs Wallace.’ Frank thought hard to remember what his mother had told him. ‘She’s quite old but she’s delivered twenty or so babies in the town over the years. She’ll charge fifteen shillings to see the job though.’

He ticked off a second one on his fingers.

‘Two. Elsie Croggins. She lives at the back of The Old Bull. Mum knows her very well as she’s only about a hundred yards away from her. She’s quite a bossy woman, but she knows the job inside out.’ Frank cringed as the unintended pun hit home. ‘Sorry about that. Anyway, she charges a guinea and another ten bob for aftercare, she’ll drop in for the next few days. She’s got the new, midwifering… midwifing… qualification, and she has access to a doctor, should we need one.’

‘It’s Midwifery,’ said Miriam, helpfully.

Frank stuck up a thumb to Miriam and then continued with his list.

‘Three. Doris Bonner. She’ll charge ten bob and not a word said to anyone about anything. She’s probably delivered more babies than the other two put together, but she couldn’t pass the midwifing… wifery, exam.’

I groaned as another wave of pain set about me. When I had recovered, I asked Miriam which midwife she had used.

‘None,’ she said. ‘The old girl next door helped me with all of mine.’ She tipped her head to one side, as she always did when she was thinking. ‘Ooh! That was Doris. She’s on Frank’s list. What am I like?’

I made a decision.

‘Can we get Elsie Croggins? I’m sorry, Miriam, but as it’s my first time, I’d like to have someone with access to a doctor, especially after what happened to my mother.’

Frank hurried back to the telephone and returned with the news that his mother was going to call round to see if Elsie was available. ‘She’ll ring back from the kiosk near The Old Bull if she can’t come. Elsie isn’t on the telephone network either.’

Miriam made a fresh pot of tea and offered to make us all a sandwich, but food was the last thing I wanted and Frank didn’t feel like eating either. She watched the clock like a hawk, counting the minutes between my contractions. We were down to eight.

‘The shock you had in the piggery has done this, I’d stake my life on it. When I was having my first, I had contractions every twenty minutes for four days. Then they stopped and started up again two days later. I was in labour for thirty-four hours after that.’

I thought about my mother, and the life-changing labour she had gone though. I crossed my fingers and prayed to any god that might be listening, to spare me that horror.

We sat silently for a while, each of us deep in our own thoughts. We were dragged out of our group meditation, when the back door was flung open and a huge woman with her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, burst into the room. Her face was red and her breath came in gasps. She was followed by Edna, who was looking mightily pleased with herself.

Elsie was a force of nature. She was an experienced midwife and knew how she liked things to be done. She also knew all there was to know about first time mothers.

‘Right, Alice? It is Alice isn’t it?’

I nodded.

‘Good. Let’s get down to business then. Where is the birth taking place?’ She looked towards the open door that led upstairs.

‘I’m not having it upstairs?’ I said.

‘Well, I can’t see a bed down here?’ Elsie strode to the parlour, then to the front room.

‘There’s a man in there who appears to be drunk,’ she said, looking around as if we weren’t aware of the fact.

‘That’s my father. He’s been in there for months,’ I said as though she ought to have known.

‘So… where… is… the… bed?’ she asked very slowly so we all understood.

‘I don’t know where I’m having the baby,’ I said, quietly. ‘I only know I’m not having it upstairs.’

‘Why on earth not, child? You’re being ridiculous. Are you seriously telling me you want to have your first baby on a dirty kitchen floor?’

‘I’m not having it upstairs,’ I insisted. ‘My mother had me in the bed that I sleep in now, and it nearly killed her. She lost so much blood. She was never the same afterwards.’

‘All right, I can understand that. Are there no other beds upstairs?’

‘No, two of the bedrooms are empty and Miriam sleeps in the other, I’m not going