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Back Where The Story Starts Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

‘But I can’t get hold of Charles,’ Grace said, trying to keep the tears out of her voice but sounding like a petulant child. ‘And there’s no one to take me and I haven’t even packed my bag yet,’ she added, her words tumbling out as the contraction lost its strength and the pain diminished. ‘It’s too soon, Mrs Finn. It’s far too soon.’

Mrs Finn considered the situation solemnly for a moment, smoothing down her uniform with the flat of her hand. Then she held her palms up to show that she was now taking control. Grace was happy to yield to her. She felt like a little girl again, being instructed by Mrs Finn on what she should do after tea.

‘You go and pack your bag, ma’am,’ Mrs Finn said calmly. ‘I’ll go and find someone to take you to the hospital and then I’ll try to get hold of Mr Montgomery Smith again. Is the number in the office?’

‘On the noticeboard,’ replied Grace weakly.

Mrs Finn nodded and then set off briskly towards the stairs as Grace made her way less nimbly to her rooms. As she reached the door, she felt the space between her legs become suddenly hot and then wet. Her waters! The fluid that wasn’t absorbed by her underwear started to trickle down her leg and as it did a new contraction, the strongest yet, bit into her so that she had to just stand on the spot holding her breath and let it pass.

They were going to have to get a move on or this baby was going to be born here at the Hall. Would that be so bad? It certainly wasn’t ideal, but if they could get a midwife out here it might be all right. But Charles was in Newcastle somewhere. She had to get there, too. This thought spurred her on again.

Once in her room, Grace thought about what she needed. The things for the baby were easy enough to locate as the tiny white vests, babygros and mittens were all laid out in a drawer just waiting for someone to wear them. She gathered them together and then began on her toiletries and clean underwear. She had wanted to wear the same nightdress that she had given birth to Hector in, as if it were some kind of lucky talisman, but it was in the laundry basket so she would have to take a different one. Given the state that she knew it would be in by the time she had finished she might as well just take the dirty one, but her sense of propriety stopped her. Enough dignity was lost during childbirth – there was no point making things worse by wearing soiled clothes.