Meritxell
Canillo – AD100
Andorra
Telephone number – do not lose this!
Andorra 564 996 997
Hello my dearest hippo friend,
Are you completely huge now?
I hope you received your Christmas pressie and postcard – they don’t really have proper cards over here so I had to make do. I know a snow globe is a bit naff but I thought it would remind you of me. I love them. Did you like your musicature? I love that they make things out of natural stuff so chose a wooden necklace for you. It will look fab in summer.
Thank you, thank you, for my lovely charm bracelet. This is the only proper piece of jewellery I own. I will treasure it forever.
I’m counting down the days until I get the phone call. The lady who runs the hotel here is lovely and she’s promised to come and find me as soon as you ring. It shouldn’t cost you too much if you tell her if it’s a girl or a boy and that you are okay. You will have to find out what the code for Andorra is, I have no idea.
You haven’t mentioned any baby names. Have you got a list of favourites? I take it my choices aren’t suitable – can’t think why.
I meant to ask you about the christening and the other godparents. Who have you picked? I hope they are good, God-fearing people like me (ha ha). Did Mike not kick up a fuss when you said you wanted your floozy friend? Are the godfathers dishy? Will I need to dress up, because I haven’t got any fancy clothes? Where is the reception being held and are some of the girls from the factory going to be there? Is that enough questions?
How clever are you, doing this crocheting. I suppose you have lots of time on your hands now. I still have my lovely hat, by the way.
It sounds like you are being unusually brave about this childbirth malarkey. Will Mike be in the hospital room with you or is he going to pace the corridors like in the films?
I can’t wait to push the pram, I’ll pretend I’m the nanny and swan about the park while you get some rest, but I’m not changing nappies, no way, José!
Talking of José, there’s a gorgeous one who delivers the laundry but at the moment I am snuggling up to Martí – it’s essential, it’s freezing here at night!
I hope you looked up Andorra, like I said. We’re squashed in between France and Spain. Did you find me? The nearest and most easily accessible airport is Barcelona. I’ll get the coach from here. I’m really looking forward to going on a plane – it will be my first time. You need to get Mike to book you a holiday to the Costa del Sol in the summer as a reward for giving him a little baby. I bet he thought he was running out of time before his bus pass came.
I’m only teasing you know, about Mike. I can’t help it sometimes. I do hope me and him can bury the hatchet and put the past behind us, more so because I want you to be happy and for us all to be friends. It does sound like he’s mellowed a bit, so fingers crossed.
Please don’t worry if you can’t reply to this or wobble down to the postbox. I will sit tight and wait for your phone call but if you do write, bloody answer my questions. Sometimes you are truly cagey, Mrs Summers, unless being preggers has completely fried your brain.
I am counting sleeps until I’m back in Olde Sheffield Towne and thinking of you every minute.
Your faraway friend, but not for long,
Nell xxx
12
December 23rd had been quiet up to the point when the telephone rang. Mike had left for work, and Wendy was busy stringing some pine cones together she had collected in the woods. She had given them a quick burst of silver spray, and thought they looked so cute.
She hoped it wasn’t Mike ringing to say he would be home late; it had happened so many times over the past two weeks and her overactive imagination was leading her down different alleyways.
‘Hello?’
‘Wendy? Is that you?’
‘Yes. Margaret?’
‘It is. I didn’t want to say my name and get you into trouble. I’m about to set off for hospital. I haven’t felt the baby move for two days…’
There was a sob, and Wendy clutched the receiver, unsure what to say.
‘God no, Margaret,’ she finally managed. ‘Do you need me to come and pick you up?’
‘No, I’ll get a taxi. It’s… I’m on my own, and I’m scared. I’m sorry I’ve rung you, but I don’t have many friends. I’ll call you later from the hospital.’
‘No, you won’t. I’ll come to get you. Tell me your address.’
Wendy quickly wrote it down on the pad, taking care not to press hard and leave an indentation. She didn’t want Mike knowing anything about this relationship. ‘I’ll be there in a quarter of an hour. They’re expecting you?’
‘Yes, and as soon as I said I hadn’t felt it move, they said to come in immediately.’
‘I’m on my way.’
The tension in the car was palpable. Margaret was fishing a tissue from her coat pocket every minute or so to dab at her eyes, and Wendy kept reaching across and squeezing her hand.
‘I know it’s hard, but everything I’ve read says that once the baby reaches birth weight, there’s little movement anyway because there simply isn’t room.’
‘Wendy, there’s nothing at all.’
‘Your partner… I’m sorry, you didn’t mention his name, does he know what’s happening?’
Margaret shook her head and stared out of the window. ‘He’s gone. He left last week. We had a massive argument and I told him to get out. I’ve no idea where he is, and don’t want to know.’ She rubbed her stomach. ‘Come on, little one,’ she whispered, ‘give Mummy a little kick.’
Wendy didn’t leave Margaret’s side. She watched as the midwife helped her lay on her back on the examination table, and then Wendy waited with bated breath as the trumpet was held against Margaret’s stomach, time and time again.
‘I need to get a doctor,’ the midwife said, ‘and I’m going to get an electronic heartbeat monitor.’
‘Please,’ Margaret implored. ‘Can you hear anything?’
‘Let’s wait and see what the doctor says.’
Wendy clung onto Margaret’s hand, hardly able to comprehend the enormity of what was happening. Surely they could do something.
The door swung open. ‘Hi, I’m Dr Khan. I’m going to listen to this baby, and see what’s going on.’
Once again the trumpet was used in different areas of Margaret’s abdomen, and then he asked for the electronic monitor.
He moved it around the stomach. Absolute silence, and Margaret couldn’t hold it in any longer. ‘There’s no heartbeat,’ she wailed.
‘Ssh,’ the doctor said. ‘Listen. This machine will pick up the faintest sound. Let’s listen.’
He was about to give up when he heard it. ‘There,’ he said triumphantly. ‘Very faint and slow, but let’s get this baby out now. I want theatre made ready immediately.’ He took hold of Margaret’s hand. ‘I promise I will do my best to save this little one, but the heartbeat is only just there. You’ll be in theatre in five minutes.’