Chapter 9 – Travelling
At last they were all packed into the van and arranged to Martin's satisfaction. Billy was at the wheel, Louisa sat at his side, Angela and baby Linda were wrapped up, padded and lying on the mattress, with Martin crouched on the mattress by their side – just in case.
"Comfy back there?" Louisa asked over the noise of the motor, for the van had a blown muffler.
"What?" Martin yelled back.
"Are. You. COMFY?" she said with emphasis.
"Just lovely," Angela answered. "Linda is asleep, I think."
Louisa glanced back and saw Martin's head bob up. she saw him scoot closer to the baby to touch her.
"Yes, fine; she's fine," he said.
Then he sighed, so, Louisa reached out to touch his shoulder to reassure him.
His hand rose to hold hers briefly. "We're fine," he said.
But he wasn't fine. He was less than chuffed - downright gloomy in fact. He searched for the proper word – miserable. Miserable fit the bill. "Maybe we should have had the big wedding, that you tease me about," he directed at Louisa.
"What?" Louisa's head jerked upright. Did she just hear what she thought she heard?
He went on, muttering, "And a trip to some tropical… isle or other – an actual honeymoon." His nose curled as he looked around the battered interior. "And not here."
Louisa's hand pressed itself against the back of his neck. This bloody seat's in the way, she thought to herself, for she wanted to press herself against him. Closer than close she wanted to get to her husband. Not been a very fun night.
Martin moved his neck a slightly to press his ear against her arm, while he examined the baby. "The baby is sleeping."
Angela yawned at him. "Been a helluva of a honeymoon for you, ain't it?"
Billy coughed. "Hang tight back there. The road's torn up ahead."
His warning was followed by lurches, bangs, bumps, and jumps.
"Slow down, you idiot!" Martin yelled.
Billy automatically slowed the vehicle. "Sorry. I'll drive slower."
Louisa told him, "Just over the rough parts? Alright?"
Billy smiled at her. "A bit excited, I am."
"It's been a big day," she told him. Then she looked back at her husband, rumpled, dirty, and smudged as he was. "A very big day."
Martin caught her eye and almost smiled at her. I love you Louisa, he thought – I love you so much.
After a half-hour they finally reached the main road and could put on some decent speed.
Louisa saw Billy relax when the got to the good road surface. "You alright?"
"Yeah. It's only… well, back there," he threw a thumb over his shoulder, "one of the neighbors. Bit doolaly."
"Well, they are a lot of unusual folks hereabouts."
The boy cast a sly look at her from the corner of his eye. "No," he told her. "Bellamy, I think that's his name. Real lucky you didn't run into him on your tramp through the forest."
I knew it, Louisa though. It is a forest. "So, this person – Bellamy…"
"Shoots foxes, and people," Billy said. His finger went to his temple and twirled. "Barmy as all get out."
"Ah, well, good then that we came across Angela instead."
The boy laughed. "I'm thinkin' she's lucky that you came across her – all alone like that." He turned his head to catch her eye. "And I didn't tell you thank you."
Louisa smiled and patted his elbow. "Glad we could help."
"How far to Truro Hospital?" Martin asked them. "Hope it's not that far."
"That sign back there said 20 miles to city center," Billy replied.
"Just… ahem… drive smoothly," Martin responded. "No undue jostling." He looked down to see Angela's head slumping. She's exhausted, he realized. He carefully took the sleeping child from her, braced himself against the cold sheet metal of the inner tyre wing, and cuddled the baby to keep it warm.
Tiny eyelids opened, and two eyes peeped up at him from the folds of the towels he'd swaddled her in before they left the house. "There, there," he told Linda, rocking her gently. He knew a lot more about babies than he did when James Henry was born. He now knew things he'd never learn from a book; like how it felt to see your child born, to hear it start to babble, see it begin to crawl, feed itself, and then at last to walk.
Louisa saw the way that Martin was confidently holding the baby. "You make a fine father," she whispered to him.
"Not that difficult," he told her. "Just takes a bit of practice."
Louisa's heart lurched a little. And perhaps we can get a little more practice at it? One child was fine, but might two be better to have?
Seeing the thoughtful look on his wife's face, Martin asked her "What?"
Louisa sighed. "Oh nothing."
"Nearly there, folks," Billy announced. "Hospital's just past this roundabout."
