Where Memories Are Made (15 page)

BOOK: Where Memories Are Made
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‘But I ain't,' she insisted. ‘Me mam's always warned me I must never let a man touch me where he shouldn't. I've only ever let the lad I met down the fair when it came to town last year touch me, and he was only fourteen, so that's all right, ain't it?'

Beryl inwardly groaned. ‘Did you not know you were pregnant, Teresa? Did you not wonder why your tummy was getting bigger? Did you not feel the baby move? Did your parents not notice the changes in you?'

At that moment a strong labour pain hit Teresa. She grabbed hold of the nurse's hand, gripping it so tightly her knuckles shone white and Beryl feared bones would be broken.

‘Take deep breaths and let them out slowly. Keep doing that until the pain subsides. That's it … keep going,' Beryl ordered.

Several minutes later the pain had subsided enough for her to regain control of her hand and rub life back into it. It seemed the answers to her questions were going to have to wait. Beryl didn't need to examine her to know that Teresa was in the second stage of labour and the baby was going to make its entry into the world in a very short time. Her mother really ought to be fetched but Beryl feared there was no time for that either. She then silently prayed that the birth would be a straightforward one with no complications as the surgery was only equipped to cater for minor injuries.

Just under thirty minutes later, the wail of a newborn rent the air. Beryl gave a huge sigh of relief to note with her trained eye that the baby, a girl, was strong and healthy. Her prayer had been answered. The birth had been straightforward, although more of an ordeal that it should have been for Teresa, with no gas and air to help her through.

Having cut the cord, cleaned up the baby and wrapped it in a clean towel, Beryl went to hand her to her mother. ‘Meet your daughter, Teresa.'

Terrified eyes looked back at her and the girl physically shrank away, as though the baby was contaminated with something deadly which she'd pass on. ‘I don't want it,' she cried frenziedly. ‘Take it away!'

Beryl spoke firmly. ‘It's your baby, Teresa. You've had a great shock, I grant you, and you'll need time to get used to the fact you're a mother now. But the baby's going to need to be fed soon and you're the only one who can provide her with the milk she needs.'

The girl looked horrified. ‘You mean, feed her like Mrs Withers next door feeds her new baby? No, no, I won't do that! It makes me feel sick.'

Beryl sighed heavily. ‘I have to fetch your mother. She needs to be told about this and to take charge. You're a minor and she'll need to accompany you to hospital to have you and the baby checked over. Just a precaution. I've delivered enough babies in my time to know you're both fine, but I'd sooner be safe than sorry. When your mother gets here, I'll telephone for an ambulance.' Oh, dear, what a mess, thought Beryl. She didn't relish the idea of having to break this news to the girl's mother, but someone was going to have to. The family had big decisions to make as the new mother was only thirteen.

‘Will you just hold the baby while I go into my office and telephone security to fetch your mother?' Beryl coaxed Teresa, hoping this would help her to bond with her child.

Eyes filled with terror, she vehemently shook her head. ‘No! No, I won't. I don't want it. I don't want to be a mother. I want to be a shop assistant when I leave school, that's what I want.'

Beryl sighed again. She was getting nowhere with the girl. ‘Your future is for you to sort out with your parents. At the moment my concern is the future of your baby. Tell me the number of the chalet you're staying in?'

Teresa stared at her wildly for several long moments before she blustered, ‘Oh, but yer can't wake me mam up at this time. She hates being woken up …'

Beryl was fighting not to lose her patience. ‘Teresa, your chalet number?'

She finally muttered, ‘Four six five.'

Taking the baby with her, Beryl left the medical room to go into the office. One-handed, she took off the receiver, laying it on the desk while she dialled the security extension then lifting the receiver to listen to the ring tone for a minute or so before it was answered. She quickly instructed Bert Simmons what she wished him to do, replaced the receiver and returned to the consulting room.

‘While we wait for your mother, I think we need to try the baby with some …' Beryl's voice trailed off as she realised she was addressing an empty room. Her thoughts raced. Had Teresa decided to go and break the news to her mother herself or was she terrified of facing up to her and now in hiding?

She couldn't leave the baby on its own so there was nothing Beryl could do until Teresa's mother arrived or the girl herself came back. In the meantime she would take care of the new infant herself.

Still holding the baby in her arm, Beryl went and found an empty box and lined it with clean towels. She laid the child gently inside, then covered her up with another clean towel and put the box down in a draught-free corner of the room. While the baby slept she went off to the surgery store cupboard where thankfully they kept several tins of Cow and Gate formula, just in case of emergencies when mothers of young babies ran short, having miscalculated how many tins they'd need on holiday. Beryl made up a bottle ready for the baby should Teresa refuse to feed it herself.

That done and the baby still asleep, she returned to the medical room, stripped and cleaned the bed, and remade it with fresh covers ready for the next patient. She had just returned to the office to check on the baby when she heard a tap on the outside door. She arrived in reception to find that Bert Simmons had entered.

He looked perturbed. ‘Ah, Sister, I just need to check that you gave me the right chalet number, only the ones in four six five haven't got a daughter called Teresa. Weren't happy about being knocked up at this time of night neither. Anyway, I must have taken the number down wrong. I am sorry, Sister. You did say to tell the woman she was needed urgently at the surgery … something to do with her daughter.'

Beryl silently scolded herself. How stupid not to suspect that Teresa would give her a false chalet number considering her state of mind after her traumatic experience and its life-changing aftermath. It seemed in the circumstances she had two choices. Either she should ask Bert Simmons to summon the police and let them deal with this situation or she could give Teresa an hour or so to return before she took drastic action which could have far-reaching consequences for the baby.

Beryl was aware that Bert was beginning to wonder why she hadn't responded to him, considering she had called him out to help her with an urgent matter. She hurriedly made her decision. No harm would come to the baby if she gave its mother time to come to terms with what had transpired. If Teresa or her mother hadn't returned by six in the morning then Beryl would have no choice but to take matters into her own hands.

Telling Bert that she was sorry she must have given him the wrong number, but it didn't matter now as the urgent situation had resolved itself in the meantime, Beryl went back to sit in the consulting room with the baby, waiting for its mother or grandmother to turn up and claim it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

B
eryl woke with a start, nearly jumping out of her skin to find herself staring straight into a face so close to hers that it appeared grotesque through her unfocused eyes. ‘What the …' she exclaimed.

The face withdrew and a relieved voice cut her short with, ‘Oh, thank God. I thought you were dead, Beryl. All the time we've worked alongside each other, I can't ever remember arriving for a shift change and finding you asleep. Had a busy night?'

Beryl stared at April Stephens blankly for a moment until her sleep-fuddled brain cleared enough for the events of a few hours ago to come flooding back. Her face grim, she said, ‘Oh, so she never came back then? Well, that leaves me with no choice but to alert the authorities and hand the problem over to them.'

April was looking at her in confusion. ‘Beryl, what problem do you need to alert the authorities about?'

She pointed down to the box by the side of her. ‘This problem, April.'

April looked inside the box, and when it registered with her just what was inside, she let out a gasp of shock. ‘Where did you find it?'

‘I didn't find it. I delivered it. And it's a “her”. The mother was thirteen, can you believe, and thought it was all right to have sex with a lad she met at the fair because her mother had warned her not to let a man touch her, but he was only fourteen so a boy and not a man.'

She then told April all that had transpired and finished off with, ‘Well, it's obvious no one is coming to claim the child so there's no alternative but to call in the authorities and let them take charge.'

April, the mother of three children herself, was shaking her head sadly. In contrast to Beryl whose head ruled her heart, April's heart very much ruled her head. ‘Oh, dear. I don't know who I feel more sorry for … the child or its mother. The poor girl is going to feel guilty for the rest of her life for abandoning her baby, albeit she's hardly more than a child herself, and this baby is going to go through life knowing it wasn't wanted by its mother or her family, so it seems.'

‘Well, we can't judge the girl's family too harshly as we don't actually know if Teresa has told them. I can't even be sure her name is actually Teresa.'

April's eyes settled on the baby sleeping peacefully in the box and she said wistfully, ‘Oh, Beryl, she's such a sweet little thing. I'd take her myself if I hadn't got my hands full already with my three, and Roy's adamant there should be no more. I don't think they'll have any trouble finding a couple to adopt this little one. She's perfect, isn't she? Who could fail to fall in love with her? But what worries me is that it's the luck of the draw whether that couple can love her the same as they would if she was their own. People fall instantly in love with kittens and puppies, not seeming to consider that they don't stay small and adorable for long. It's the same with children, of course. What fills me with dread, though, is that this little mite is going to spend time in a children's home while they seek out a new family for her. Have you ever been inside a children's home, Beryl?'

She shook her head.

‘I have. Horrible places. Before I took this job with Jolly's I applied for a job at one. It broke my heart to see how babies and children are treated there. The babies are left for most of the day lying in their cot, mostly in soiled nappies which as you can imagine causes terrible nappy rash. The staff just haven't time to spend with them except for feeding, and then as soon as they're burped they're returned to their cots until next feeding time – no cuddle or anything. It's not the staff's fault but the authorities' for not hiring enough people to provide proper care and attention.

April dragged her eyes away from the baby and fixed them on Beryl meaningfully. ‘Whether we like it or not, we have this child's future in our hands. Before we take the drastic step of handing her over to the authorities, we really should give her mother more time to come back and fetch her … another day or so at least. Look, it's only hours since the birth, it's not like it's days. Maybe Teresa hasn't built up the courage to tell her parents yet. Maybe she has but the parents are still reeling themselves. This is going to be one hell of a shock for them, isn't it? If we've had no sign of them come Monday then we take action. That's the fair and just thing to do, for the sake of the baby, don't you agree?'

Beryl looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before she nodded her agreement. ‘And what do we do with the child meantime? We can't keep her here, can we?'

April looked thoughtful. ‘Mmm … no, we can't. I'd take her myself if it was just for the weekend. Roy wouldn't have any objection so long as it was no longer, but it's your weekend off so I can't, can I?' She looked at Beryl meaningfully. ‘That just leaves you.'

She exclaimed, ‘Me!' The thought of having a baby to care for, even for a short time, filled Beryl with horror. Trevor would panic just as much.

April was well aware of Beryl's feelings about children, couldn't fail to see the panic in her eyes at the thought of having the care of one for even a short time. She knew her colleague was about to come out with all manner of excuses not to take the baby, but April herself was adamant that this child was not going to face an uncertain future unless there was no other choice. Smiling broadly she said, ‘That's settled then. You'll take the baby for the weekend and I'll telephone you immediately Teresa or her family show up. And if they don't come by Monday morning then we hand her over to the authorities.' April got up. ‘I'll go and sort out the things you'll need for her from the store cupboard. I'm sure there's a couple of old nightdresses and nappies in the box of stuff people have left behind.'

Beryl sighed heavily. She wasn't at all happy about having her much-looked-forward-to weekend scuppered, and wasn't relishing informing Trevor of it either.

He wasn't back home by the time Beryl arrived. This signalled to her that he must have had a busy night and still be at the station handing over to the day relief. Whoever got home first when they both happened to be on night shift would make a start on breakfast so they could eat together before they went to bed, but she had a baby to deal with first. She needed to find something better than a cardboard box for the child to sleep in during her stay with them, and any time now she would be waking for a feed so Beryl ought to have a bottle ready.

Putting the kettle on to boil she went in search of a makeshift cot.

She had just settled the baby down, after her feed and change, into a dressing-table drawer she had emptied of its contents and lined with a blanket, then she had gone into the kitchen to make a much-needed cup of tea and a start on the breakfast when the back door opened and her big husband lumbered in. He smiled lovingly at his beloved wife, saying as he took off his helmet and stripped off his uniform jacket, ‘Sorry I'm late, love. Had a hell of a night. A drunk decided to take out the window of the pub because the landlord refused to serve him, and we had to stop a husband from trying to throttle his wife because he caught her in bed with their neighbour when he arrived home from his shift earlier than was expected.'

BOOK: Where Memories Are Made
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