The Girl in the Scrapbook by Carolyn Ruffles (reading women TXT) 📕

just wanted to sleep for a little bit longer. The noise persisted, louder now, insistent. Something was crying. A baby. She snapped her eyes open in a rush of consciousness.

At the same moment, the weight shifted in the narrow bed and she felt Arthur’s hand on her shoulder. ‘You stay there in the warm,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll fetch him.’

It was still dark but the moonlight illuminated his pale back and buttocks as he headed across the room. She felt a rush of desire, immediately dampened by the sound of his voice crooning to the wailing infant, and with a sigh, sat up in bed. The crying continued until the baby was latched on to her left breast, sucking furiously and Norah felt her shawl being draped around her shoulders.

‘You’ll get cold.’ Arthur yawned as he got back into bed.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly but there was no response and she could tell from his steady, rhythmic breathing that he was already asleep.

This was the worst time, she thought, sitting alone in the night, tired to the point of exhaustion but unable to let her body drift back to slumber. This was the time when those feelings of resentment crept in, dark and insidious. Her baby, James Arthur Fletcher, had been born a month ago after a long and difficult labour and since then her life had not been her own.

Up until that point, she'd been happy, very content in her new role of wife. She and Arthur had married seven months ago and life had been good in so many ways. To start with, he was a wonderful homemaker. With two of his friends, he had built another room on to the back of the cottage for a nursery, ready for when the baby was older and then had built a beautiful crib. He could not have done more to show his love for her and his complete acceptance of another man’s child.

The thought of being intimate with another man had secretly filled her with terror but Arthur had been sensitive to her feelings and hadn't rushed her. He had kissed, stroked and caressed her until she relaxed and then she had surprised herself with the strength of her passion for him. Throughout her pregnancy, they could not seem to get enough of each other but that had stopped with the birth of the baby. Initially, her body had been too sore and damaged after her delivery. The baby had been large and her hips were narrow so the birth had been traumatic. She'd needed time to recover and Arthur had cosseted her tenderly, for which she was grateful. Now though, she missed his touch and wondered why he was reluctant to have sex with her. Two nights ago, while baby Jimmy was sleeping, she'd reached out for him, running her fingers down his chest, his stomach and then, as she went lower, she'd felt his hand grasp hers firmly and lift it away from him. He'd kissed her chastely and apologised that he was feeling tired. The rejection had left her feeling shattered and also jealous. His adoration of the baby had been instant, from the moment he took him in his arms and rocked him gently against his chest. Norah had worried, despite his protestations to the contrary, that he may not be able to love him as his own, but that was clearly not the case. All his love seemed to have been transferred to the baby after his arrival and Norah wondered if his desire for her would ever be rekindled.

Her own feelings about Jimmy were complicated. She had expected to feel a strong surge of motherly love for her son the first time she held him but it just hadn't happened, nor at any time subsequently. He was a fine-looking baby, with bright blue eyes and a head of curly black hair but she had been unprepared for the exhaustion she would feel in meeting his physical needs. She would feed him, change his nappy and put him down for a sleep and, within an hour, he would be crying, ready for another feed. Her nipples were cracked and sore and there was no let up. She had talked to Cissy Richards, with whom she had become close friends, about her lack of maternal instinct when she had visited.

‘It’s hardly surprising after all you’ve been though,’ Cissy declared, giving her a hug. ‘Just give it time.’

‘But what about you? How did you feel when your two were born?’

‘Honestly, I felt too tired to think about my feelings at all. Obviously, I love them both dearly but I don’t recall how or when that happened. Listen, Norah, you’ve been through a lot and now you have a big, strong baby who is taking his toll on your reserves. No wonder you’re feeling a bit down about things!’

‘But what if I can never love him because ... well, because of his father?’ Norah wailed. The tears which she had been holding back now streamed down her cheeks.

‘Oh Norah!’ Cissy handed her a handkerchief and took her in her arms. ‘You must try not to worry about such things. Just take one day at a time. There now …’ She patted her back soothingly. ‘Try not to upset yourself with foolish notions. You have a beautiful son and a hardworking husband who adores you. You have lots to be thankful for.’

‘I know.’ Norah blew her nose and wiped her tears away. ‘I’m just being silly.’

‘Never that.’ Her friend gave her a final squeeze and stood up. ‘What you’re feeling at the moment is perfectly normal for new mothers. It will pass, you’ll see.’

That had been a week ago and her attitude towards her child had remained the same. She sighed again and transferred Jimmy to her other breast, wincing with pain as he continued to suckle greedily. It was at times like these that she pondered how differently her life had turned out from her childhood dreams. Her