Page 24 of Christmas Games
‘Because I wasn’t dilated enough and they didn’t want to waste a bed. They want you to come in as late as possible.’
‘But how will Iknowwhen I’m ready?’
Fiona puffed out her cheeks. ‘Honestly, Zo, every labour is different. Just don’t even think about calling the midwife until it’s been a few hours of contractions so regular and hard you think you might pass out.’
‘What?’
‘Shit! Sorry, love, that sounded fucking awful. It’ll be fine. I promise. Just don’t go in until you can’t hold a conversation. You don’t want to do that car journey more than once.’
‘I could have a home birth like you did with Isla?’
‘You could. It was a million times better than the hospital. But at the same time, I knew what to expect. And when I was pregnant with Liam, I had to think of Duncan. He would have supported me, of course, if I’d wanted a home birth, but I didn’t want him silently freaking out. What does Rory think?’
‘We haven’t discussed it yet. It all seems so far away. I’d like to be at home for most of it at least. Mum had a really long labour with me as well, and I’d rather be in the cabin than in a hospital ward.’
They sat in a companionable silence as Isla slept on, listening to the sounds of Duncan playing football with Liam in the back garden.
‘He’s not going back this time,’ said Fiona.
‘Duncan?’
Fiona nodded.
‘Because of what happened to your dad?’
‘Yes. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry, but I kept imagining Mum being pregnant with Jamie when Dad died out on the rigs. That level of stress is just not worth it. And anyway, I’ve really struggled with this pregnancy, and don’t want to have to deal with two kids on my own for two weeks out of four.’
‘Are you going to be okay for money?’
‘For a while, we should be. We’ve been saving for years, so we have enough to upgrade to our forever home and keep ourselves fed for a few months at least. Dunc can always pick up work as an electrician. We’ll be fine.’
October. Twenty-eight weeks
With one lookfrom his wife, Rory knew he was in trouble.
He’d returned to the cabin to find Zoe, naked from the waist down, washing clothes in the sink. It couldn’t have been another bleed as she looked mad, not sad.
‘What’s happened?’
She pointed a soapy finger at him. ‘Youhappened, Rory.’
‘Um.’ He racked his brains to try and think what he’d done.
‘The toilet?’
Fuck. He’d forgotten to tell her.
‘You baby-proofed the bloody loo and didn’t tell me! You know I have the bladder control of a small dog after drinking a pint of builder’s tea,’ she ranted. ‘I tried for thirty seconds towork it out, failed, and pissed myself before I could find a bucket.’
‘Shit.’
‘Luckily it wasn’t that, or I’d be even madder.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Rory, our baby isn’t going to be born till next year and won’t be mobile for at least six months after that. You’ve got a phone line sorted to the cabin now. That’s the most important thing done. You need to stop baby-proofing everything. The Rayburn doesn’t need to be fenced off, the furniture doesn’t need to be wrapped in foam, and the bloody toilet seat doesn’t need more security than Fort Knox.’
‘Okay.’
