‘Siobhan’s is shaped more like a heart. So is Ma’s. It comes from her side of the family really. God, she’s just gorgeous. I can’t believe we made her.’
When Frank arrived at the hospital the next day, he found the Montagues had graced them with their presence. The Brigadier was back to near full health now and Gavin had driven them up from Surrey.
The best Mr and Mrs Montague could give Frank was a curt nod, but Gavin more than made up for it. ‘Congratulations, Frank. She’s adorable.’
Frank considered pointing out that he’d done very little to warrant congratulations, aside from allowing himself to be duped into impregnating Ellen, but that would have been ungrateful. At least the Montagues had swallowed their pride and come to see their granddaughter. He lifted the baby out of her cot. This child had reconciled him and Ellen. Perhaps she would reconcile the rest of this dysfunctional family. ‘Would you like to hold her?’ He directed his words to his mother-in-law.
‘I think not,’ said Mrs Montague.
‘May I?’ Gavin held out his arms. The Brigadier muttered something under his breath.
Frank handed her over. Gavin rocked and cooed the little bundle in his arms, his eyes damp and twinkly. A tiny chink in his armour had just been revealed.
‘Oh for God’s sake, man. Pull yourself together,’ said the Brigadier.
‘If you’d chosen to marry the girl we suggested, you’d have had plenty of your own by now,’ said Mrs Montague.
‘I’m quite happy with my niece, Mother.’ Gavin smiled, leaving Frank marvelling at the infinite patience of the man.
‘What’s that on her back,’ said Mrs Montague.
‘It’s a birthmark, Mummy. All of Frank’s family have it,’ said Ellen.
‘Well, I’m sure there are treatments. There are some very good clinics.’
A flashback carried Frank through time to the day the Balaclavas took Billy. That look Eve’s dad had given him. Suddenly he understood it. ‘There’ll be none of that. Our daughter doesn’t need any treatments.’
Mrs Montague gave him one of her steeliest stares. That would be a no on the reconciliation then. ‘We must be off. Ellen, think about what we discussed earlier.’
Gavin kissed the top of his sister’s head. ‘Goodbye, my darling. I’ll come and see you next week with Roger.’
Mr and Mrs Montague did not kiss any part of their daughter. They merely tutted at the mention of Roger’s name, leading Frank to assume that he was no longer to be referred to as Roger the Lodger.
He sat down in one of the recently vacated chairs. ‘What was she talking about?’
Ellen waved her hand. ‘She wants me to go home for a while. She thinks it’s best for me and the baby.’
‘Do you want to?’
‘Couldn’t think of anything worse. And there is more chance of a second coming than my mother knowing what’s best for a baby. No. Robyn and I are going to stay in our own home, thank you very much.’
‘Robyn?’
‘Yes. Do you like it? I know we’d considered other names but it came to me this morning and it seemed to suit her.’
Frank squeezed Ellen’s hand. It was good that she was thinking positively. After the birth yesterday, he was beginning to worry. ‘I love it. Robyn O’Hare. Sounds perfect. A perfect name for a perfect darling girl.’
‘Except she’s not perfect, according to my dear mother. Not with that mark on her back.’
The first clue Frank had that something was wrong came from Stella. She worked part time these days and had been stopping by each day while Frank was at work. It was actually Adrian that caught him on their lunch break. ‘Stella thinks Lottie might be suffering with post-natal depression. Apparently she’s not really looking after the baby properly. I don’t mean silly things. Stell’s not trying to pick holes, but she’s not interested in feeding her, or changing her nappy. When she went round yesterday, the poor little mite was screaming at the top of her lungs and Lottie was just reading a magazine and ignoring her.’
Frank went home as soon as the end of day bell went. He could see Ellen sunbathing in the garden but there was no sign of the baby. He checked each room and found Robyn lying in her cot, wide awake. Her nappy was soaking. He changed her and took her out into the garden.
Ellen looked up from her magazine. ‘Home time already?’
‘I’ve changed Robyn. Her nappy was wet.’
‘Really? It’s hardly been any time since Stella put a clean one on.’