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Camilla Noakes had seen many changes during nearly 30 years of nursing and midwifery, but recently retired, she was finding it difficult being the one in the waiting room. At least she wasn't alone. As always, her darling Peter was sitting next to her, gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. Another, slightly younger, couple sat across from them, and a few feet away, an even younger man paced the floor.
Camilla approached the young man. "There, there, dear," she squeezed his hand as she directed him to the line of chairs. "Why don't you sit here with your father while I make us some tea?"
Peter wrapped an assuring arm around his son. Both men looked up at her and smiled, "Thanks, Mum."
Fred was the spitting image of his father – the same kind eyes, the same smooth voice, but at six feet four inches tall, Fred towered over both of his parents.
In the corner of the waiting room, the hospital had supplied an electric kettle, tea sachets, and a tower of cardboard cups. Camilla was certain this was just another tactic to keep the family members of the patients occupied. While the men tried to concentrate on the headlines of the stack of newspapers, the women were expected to do what any proper British woman would do in any anxious time – make tea, keep calm, and carry on. As if on cue, Mr. Sutton picked up a newspaper, and Mrs. Sutton joined Camilla by the kettle. Wordlessly, Camilla removed five cups from the tower as Mrs. Sutton began opening sachets. Camilla missed the camaraderie and intuitive awareness of other women. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Sutton reminded her of an old friend who she had met back in the 50s when she first arrived in the East End as a midwife. Like Cynthia Miller, Mrs. Sutton was a petite, soft-spoken woman.
It was that same sweet voice that broke the silence. "I know I'm being silly, but I can't help but worry about Diane."
Diane Noakes, née Sutton, was in her tenth hour of labor, and both sets of grandparents were anxiously awaiting the arrival of their first grandchild.
Fred & Diane met while at university. Diane was working in the stacks at the university library when Fred first ran into her – literally! Sideswiped by a tower of books with a nice pair of legs, Fred was bowled over by the tall brunette. After a short courtship and an even shorter engagement, they were married. Naturally, children would be the next step.
Diane was a sweet girl, and Camilla could not be happier for her Fred finding love so early in his life. It definitely made it easier for her and Peter to return to the mission field, but as soon as news of the pregnancy reached them, Camilla was determined to return home. She firmly believed that family was about proximity, and she did not want to miss out on a moment of this new life.
"No need to worry," she smiled at Mrs. Sutton. "First babies are notorious for taking their time, but I have a feeling it won't be much longer."
Her friend, Trixie Franklin, once joked about midwives having psychic powers, but it wasn't far from the truth. Of course, science and experience aided this magic, but like old Mrs. Jenkins who would always appear in time for the birth of a new baby in Poplar, most midwives just knew. No explanation. Chalk it up to women's intuition if you must, but it was more of a feeling of unfathomable hope.
Mr. Sutton was the first to stand as the women approached with the tea. It was obvious that Diane got her height from her father. He was tall and lanky and very quiet – a man's man, but he was also very kind. He backed Fred when he wanted to start his own business. As will all babies, they didn't know which physical family resemblances would appear in this child, but it was certain that the Noakes and the Suttons made a great combination of human beings. Boy or girl, short or tall, this baby was going to be something special, and this baby was going to be extremely loved.
Before anyone was settled back in their chairs with their tea, a nurse appeared in the doorway. "Mr Noakes?"
Both Peter and Fred jumped to their feet, "Yes?!"
Camilla stifled a chuckle. Peter had always been the calm one, and while she knew he was as excited as she was to meet the new Noakes, this was the first time he had slipped up. Peter cleared his throat as he patted Fred on the back and pushed him forward.
"I … I'm Fred Noakes."
The nurse smiled at the new father, "It's a girl."
Fred pushed his hair back and turned to reveal the biggest grin Camilla had ever seen, "It's a girl!"
Quickly, he turned back to the nurse, "And Diane?"
"Mother and daughter are both well."
It was as if Fred's feet had become accustomed to pacing. He didn't know which way to go. Turning in circles as he held opened his arms to hug his parents but stopping and looking back wondering if he should follow this nurse.
Camilla wiped a tear from her cheek and smiled at her son, "Go. Go be with Diane and the little one. We'll see you soon."
Camilla and Peter had always wanted more children, but after the traumatic experience during the birth of Fred, Camilla was unable to carry another baby to full-term. After their second little heartbreak, Peter gathered her up in his arms and pressed his lips to her ear, "No more, Camilla. No more. You're all I need. You and Fred. We've got a healthy boy. I need you to be healthy for him. For us."
Still Camilla dreamed of a little girl of her own. Between the two of them, Peter & Camilla had enough love to care for an entire village of children, and while adoption was a possibility, the one always waited for the other to bring it up first – which never happened. Instead they poured all of their love into raising Fred, and they couldn't have raised a better person.
After Fred went off to university, Peter and Camilla returned to Africa. Since Peter retired from the force, he spent most of his time helping his wife in the clinics. He could usually be found distracting children while Camilla administered much needed vaccinations. Other times, he was a referee at impromptu football matches for the village boys. The Noakes focused on the children – many of whom were orphaned as disease and starvation claimed the lives of their parents. For some children, Camilla and Peter were the only parental figures they ever knew. Turns out the Noakes had more than enough love for several villages full of children.
Camilla found it amusing that a life less than 24 hours old could bring back a lifetime of memories. Hand in hand, the Noakes walked down a hospital corridor to meet their granddaughter. The shrill, demanding cry of the new life pierced through the silence as they opened the door. Fred was sitting in the rocking chair next to Diane's bed, and he was still grinning despite the baby's cries.
"Mum! Dad! Look at her. She's a tiny thing!"
Camilla's trained eye could tell that the baby was quite long by the way she filled Fred's arms. She gave Diane a knowing smile – not that tiny, not that easy to birth.
Fred stood to pass the baby to his mother, "Mum, this is Miranda. Miranda, this is your grandmother."
The tears began to well up in Camilla's eyes again as she sat in the rocking chair. Instantly, Miranda was calmed. Peter put a hand on his wife's shoulder as he congratulated his son, "She's absolutely beautiful." Then he leaned in to kiss the baby and whispered in Camilla's ear, "Just like her Chummy. Finally, our little girl."
"That's right, little M," Camilla whispered, "Shush now. Your Chummy's here."
It had been years since anyone had called her that. It was always Camilla, Mum, Nurse Noakes, or Mrs. Noakes, but now she could be Chummy again – a friend. There was so much she wanted to teach Miranda – how to ride a bicycle, to always stand tall, and to laugh even in the hard times. But there was plenty of time for that. For now, Chummy wanted to teach Miranda that she would always be there for her as she gently kissed the soft, newborn forehead.