The House on Rosebank Lane Read online

  The nurse took another glance between Kirsten’s legs. ‘Sure, if he gets here in the next fifteen, or at the most twenty, minutes.’

  Kirsten flopped back against her pillows. Not knowing that Eddie, in such an apprehensive frame of mind, had been halfway home before he realised he only needed to travel five minutes down the road to the hospital, she said, ‘That means he will make it.’

  Eighteen minutes later a wrung-out but thankful Kirsten gave birth. ‘Nurse, is it a boy or a girl?’

  ‘A beautiful girl. Right, nurse, pop her on the scales.’ The assisting midwife then put the baby on to the scales. ‘Look,’ the chief nurse said to Kirsten. ‘She is weighing in at six pounds eight ounces. Not a heifer, but a good solid weight nevertheless.’

  ‘Good, now please let me hold her.’

  ‘Of course, dear, but let’s just give her a wee clean up and wrap her in a blanket first.’

  Kirsten sought for the nurse’s hand. ‘Nurse,’ she pleaded, ‘is she . . . what I mean is . . . is she all right? I mean, you are sure about the weight?’

  Before the midwife could answer a gown-clad Eddie burst into the room. ‘No need to worry, dear,’ he exclaimed, all out of breath, ‘I’m here now, and I will be with you when the baby arrives.’

  Kirsten burst out laughing. He looked even more exhausted and stressed than her! ‘Sorry, love, but your daughter could not hold on for you.’

  The assisting nurse then laid the swaddled baby in Kirsten’s arms. Tears welled. Running her fingers under the baby’s delicate chin, she looked up into Eddie’s face. ‘I can’t see her features because of my tears. But know something, I really don’t care if she is perfect or not. I love her and will love her no matter what.’

  Tenderly, Eddie took the baby into his arms. ‘I don’t care either, but Kirsten she looks just perfect . . . or she is and always will be to me.’ He turned to the nurse. ‘What do you say?’

  Opening the blanket a little, the midwife cast a professional eye upon the baby. ‘As an expert, she looks more than fine to me. In fact, quite cute and beautiful she is. But why are you asking?’

  ‘My little boy, who I had twelve years ago, was one of triplets,’ Kirsten managed to say. ‘The first two babies died, poor wee souls, and my Dixie only weighed two pounds fourteen ounces. It was a struggle but, mark you, he soon became a healthy hearty boy. I just couldn’t have loved him more. I miss him so. Killed in an accident he was, my precious boy. So I am wondering, being . . . how can I say this . . .’

  ‘You being an older mother, and the risk of something going wrong being slightly increased?’

  Kirsten smiled. She then indicated to Eddie to pass the baby back to her. Gazing down at her baby’s face, she could see she was so like Jane. She was just so good-looking. The names they thought they would call her then jumped into her mind. ‘Eddie, do you think that she looks like any of the names we picked for her?’

  Eddie took the baby from Kirsten’s arms again and, as he looked down at his daughter, he said, ‘No. None of those names suit her.’

  ‘Not Aileen after my mother nor Kate after yours?’ Kirsten asked, before adding, ‘Or even Anna. Are you saying that none of them suit her?’

  ‘No, the more I look at her, the more I think she looks like a wee angel. She certainly has the sparkling eyes of an angel.’ He lifted the baby up to press her cheek on his. ‘A messenger of good hope, my darling is, so I think we should call her Angela.’

  ‘Angela,’ Kirsten repeated as she nodded. ‘I like the sound of that.’

  ‘Angela, you are,’ he said as he lowered the baby away from his face so he could see her. And he then added, ‘And little one, like your mum, you will be your own woman.’

  Kirsten leaned back on her pillows, her whole body in bliss. She had never been happier. Eddie was such a loving and supportive husband. Jane, her dear Jane, she knew would love Angela and mother her. Kirsten’s only regret was that Dixie wasn’t here to meet his little sister. She stopped to smile as she thought that he wasn’t so far away. Somehow, she just knew that Angela would have her own special personal guardian in heaven, a wee boy whose gift to her would be that he would always love and protect her.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  MILLIE GRAY is a writer and professional storyteller. Her humorous plays attract audiences from all over Scotland and she is much in demand to do workshops and talks about her work. Millie Gray was born and raised in Leith and lives in Edinburgh.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  With thanks to Liz Drysdale, Mary Gillon, Diane Cooper and the ladies from Balfour Street. And grateful thanks go to the professional and supportive staff at my publishers, especially to Emma Hargrave for her work on this book.