Foxden Hotel (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 5) by Madalyn Morgan (ebook reader ink txt) 📕

on reception and Frank was in the office by the time Bess had finished in the kitchen. She grabbed her coat. ‘Frank, did you bring down the baby clothes?’ she asked, swinging her coat over her shoulders and pushing her arms down the sleeves.

‘I brought this,’ Frank said, passing Bess a large carpetbag.

‘That’s fine. There’s no time to go back for the rest, this will do for now.’

‘It will do?’ Frank said laughing. ‘The bag’s so heavy, I thought you’d bought Kimpton Smith’s entire baby department.’

‘Not quite,’ Bess grinned.

‘Maeve, would you ring Ena and Claire, tell them what Bill told you. Tell them Frank and I are on our way to Coventry and I’ll ring them as soon as I’ve got anything to report. Oh, and if Claire’s husband answers the telephone, would you ask to speak to Claire? I think it’s best if you tell her in person, instead of leaving a message with Mitch. He might forget. Right!’ Bess said, ‘we’d better get going.’

‘Would you give Mrs Burrell this from me?’ Maeve handed Bess a soft parcel.

‘Of course. That’s kind of you, Maeve.’ Bess lifted her shoulders and grinned. ‘I’m so excited. I never thought Margot would have children. I’m worried too, with the baby coming early.’

‘It’s amazing how tough babies are,’ Maeve said. ‘Don’t worry, the little one will be fine.’

‘Bess?’ Frank called from the corridor leading to the back door. ‘Are you coming?’

‘You’re right,’ Bess agreed, ‘I’m worrying for nothing. I’m sure everything will be fine.’

Maeve looked past Bess. ‘I’m not sure Mr Donnelly will be fine, if you don’t go soon.’

Running to catch up with Frank, Bess felt butterflies of excitement and anxiety flying around in her stomach. She calmed down when she saw Frank’s face. Maeve was right again. Frank wasn’t fine. He looked impatient when she jumped in the car.

As they set off down the drive, Bess said, ‘Mam! Oh, Frank, we haven’t told Mam that Margot’s gone into labour. She’ll be furious if we don’t tell her she’s about to be a grandmother again, and offer to take her with us to the hospital.’

‘I rang her when I went up for the carpet bag, but she didn’t answer.’

‘She never does. It was a waste of time having a telephone put in for her.’ Frank pulled up outside Lily Dudley’s cottage and Bess jumped out. She ran up the path and hammered on the front door. No answer, so she ran to the back door. No reply there either.

‘She isn’t in,’ Bess said, climbing into the car. ‘Let’s go. We’ll call in on the way back.’

The journey to Coventry took longer than it should have done. The traffic was heavy for the time of day and there were road works just outside the village of Brinklow. Once in Coventry it was plain sailing through the suburbs. The Walsgrave hospital came into view, Frank found a place to park the car, and he and Bess were in the hospital at ten o’clock.

Mrs Burrell, they were told, was in the maternity wing. ‘First floor, ward 10, along the corridor on the right,’ the woman behind the enquiries desk informed them.

The nerves on the top of Bess’s stomach began to tighten. She took a deep breath to calm herself and held Frank’s hand, interlinking her fingers in his. ‘The baby is three weeks early, Frank.’

Frank gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘Don’t worry love, she’ll be okay; they both will, you’ll see.’ Hand in hand, Bess and Frank followed the overhead signs to Maternity, taking a flight of stairs at the end of the corridor to the first floor. Before they saw ward 10, they could hear Margot shouting.

‘We’re in the right place,’ Frank said, laughing.

Bess hit him playfully on the arm. ‘There’s Bill,’ she said, walking quickly on the balls of her feet, so her heels didn’t click on the tiled floor, ‘in the recess between wards nine and ten.’

‘Bess. Thank God you’re here,’ Bill said, as Bess and Frank approached. ‘I’ve been going mad on my own listening to Margot screaming. What the hell are they doing to her?’

‘They’re not doing anything to her, Bill. All mothers shout when they’re giving birth.’

A nurse came out of a room next to ward 10. The rubber soles of her flat shoes squeaked as she walked briskly past without acknowledging Bill. A second later she was back with a midwife in tow.

‘Excuse me?’ Bill said, jumping to his feet. ‘How is my wife? Mrs Burrell?’

‘Doing fine,’ the nurse said impersonally. And entering after the midwife, she left the door to swing shut on its own.

More screams, curses and grunts followed, and then, “Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny! Oh!”

‘What the--?’ Bill stood up, put his hands on his head and looked from Bess to Frank. ‘She’s singing,’ he said, a look of incredulity on his face. ‘She’s bloody singing.’

The grunting started again, followed by a long ‘Agh…!’ and then, “Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, Britain never, never, never shall be slaves.” ‘And I shall never let that damn man near me again. Can you hear me Bill Burrell?’ Margot yelled at the top of her voice. ‘Agh…!’

Bess couldn’t speak for laughing. Eventually she managed to say, ‘They’re stopping Margot from pushing by getting her to sing.’ Frank laughed too, but Bill looked astonished. ‘Shush! Listen!’

‘To what?’ Bill asked. ‘I can’t hear anything.’

‘Exactly!’

They sat in silence. Then a loud howl filled the corridor.

Bill sprang out of his seat and put his hands up to his mouth. ‘He’s here. The baby’s here,’ he cried, jumping up and down on the spot. Bess and Frank got to their feet. They each congratulated and hugged Bill, before hugging each other.

The midwife came dashing out of the room, her starched uniform rustling as she neared. ‘What’s going