Red Bones - Ann Cleeves [3]
‘How’s my baby?’ Anna found it hard to believe now that there was a baby, that she hadn’t imagined the whole experience of giving birth. She felt quite disconnected from the evening before.
‘I’ll bring him through to you. He’s doing very well now, breathing normally on his own.’
Ronald stirred in his chair and woke too. He looked like his father with the stubble of beard on his chin, his eyes slightly vacant from sleep.
The baby was lying in a plastic box that reminded Anna of a fish tank. He was lying on his back. His skin had a faint yellow tinge; Anna had read the books and knew that was normal. He had a downy covering of dark hair and there was a pink mark on each side of his head.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ the midwife said. She assumed she could guess what Anna was thinking. ‘It’s because of the forceps delivery. It’ll go in a couple of days.’ She scooped the baby up, wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to Anna. Anna looked down at a tiny, perfect ear.
‘Shall we have a go at feeding him?’
Ronald was properly awake now. He sat on the bed next to Anna on the opposite side to the midwife. He held out his finger and watched the baby grip it.
The midwife was showing Anna the best way to feed the baby. ‘Put a pillow on your lap like this and hold his head with this hand and guide him to your nipple like this . . .’ Anna, usually so competent in practical matters, felt clumsy and inadequate. Then the baby latched on to her and began to suck and she could feel the pull of it down through her belly.
‘There you are,’ the midwife said. ‘You’re a natural. If everything goes well there’s no reason you shouldn’t be home tomorrow.’
When the woman had gone they continued to sit on the bed and look at the baby. He fell suddenly fast asleep and Ronald lifted him carefully and put him back in the plastic cot. Anna had been given a room of her own with a view across the grey houses to the sea. They drafted the notice they would place in the Shetland Times:
To Ronald and Anna Clouston on March 20th, a son, James Andrew. First grandchild to Andrew and Jacobina Clouston of Lindby, Whalsay, and James and Catherine Brown of Hereford, England.
The timing of James’s birth had been planned, as everything in Anna’s life was planned. She thought spring was the perfect time to bring a baby into the world and Whalsay would be a wonderful place to bring up a child. The process had been more painful and messy than she’d imagined, but now that was over and there was no reason why their family life shouldn’t run smoothly.
Ronald couldn’t keep his eyes off his son. She should have guessed he might be a doting father.
‘Why don’t you get off home?’ she said. ‘Get a shower and a change of clothes. Everyone will want to hear the news.’
‘I might do that.’ She could tell he wasn’t comfortable in the hospital. ‘But should I come and visit you tonight?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s such a long drive, and then the time on the ferry. You’ll need to be in first thing in the morning to take us home.’ She thought she’d welcome some time alone with her son. She smiled as she imagined Ronald doing the grand tour of the island, full of news about the birth and his son. He’d have to visit all his relatives, repeating the tale of how her waters burst while they were shopping in the Co-op, the difficult labour and the child who was pulled screaming into the world.
Chapter Four
Hattie could have done without having Evelyn here at Setter at all today. They’d only been back in Whalsay for a week and she had other things to think about, anxieties that snagged at the back of her mind along with the moments of joy. Besides, she wanted to get on with the dig. Her dig, which had lain covered up since the autumn. Now the longer days and finer weather had brought her back to Shetland to complete the project. She itched to get back into the main trench, to continue the sieving and dating, to complete her meticulous records. She wanted to prove her thesis and to lose herself in the past. If she could prove that