They were waiting for the knock on the door long before it came. That was not to say exactly that they were ready for it when it did come. But they were certainly waiting; tensely, neither saying a word.
Their eyes met for a moment at the sound from the hall. He wanted to ask her without words whether this was alright, whether she was ready. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod, and went to answer the door.
She was pleased to see that Rosamund, standing a little way back, had come with Edith.
"Hello," she smiled at them quietly, stepping back to let them inside.
They came in rather timidly, Edith seeming to wait for Rosamund, but Rosamund not feeling it would be right for her to advance. Isobel took their coats, but when she had hung them up and neither of them had made any further progress down the hallway she cleared her throat quietly, stepping forwards a little.
"She's in her cot in the sitting room," she told them both, "She's awake but she's fairly quiet."
Edith nodded.
"Is Dr. Clarkson here?" she asked.
"Yes," Isobel replied, "But he would be happy to leave us for a while if that is what you want."
"I think it's good that the doctor's here," Rosamund told her firmly, "You never know what you might want to ask."
Edith said nothing in reply, but turned to Isobel.
"Can I see her, please?"
"Yes, of course, my dear," Isobel told her, "She's just in here."
The three of them filed into the sitting room. Richard stood, his hands behind his back, looking out of the window. He nodded both to Edith and to Rosamund and retreated a little further towards the window.
Apprehension all over her face, Edith approached the crib and peered inside. Watching her face in profile, Isobel watched as her lips, clenched shut, softened, relaxed, almost. She seemed to breathe very evenly for a few moments, trying to steady herself. To try and catch the look in her eyes, Isobel almost felt would be an intrusion, but in a way she did not need to, she could imagine it perfectly. Leaning over Edith's shoulder a little, Rosamund regarded Helen with the tenderest expression Isobel had ever seen her wear.
"She's turned out to be quite lovely," she remarked, then, turning to Isobel, "You have been taking awfully good care of her."
"I just did what was needed," Isobel replied quietly.
"You didn't always know she was mine," Edith remarked, her voice strained somewhat, not taking her eyes off Helen.
"No," Isobel confirmed, "I would have done the same for anyone's child."
There was a brief silence.
"Can I hold her?" Edith asked.
"Yes, of course. Would you like me to show you how?"
Carefully cradling Helen's fair head, Isobel lifted her out of the crib. Helen let out a little gurgling sound at being disturbed, but Isobel patted her gently on the back, soothing her gently.
"It's alright, my love, some one's here to see you. Your mother."
Gently handing Helen over to Edith, concentrating on keeping the baby safe, she did not catch the look on Edith's face until a moment later when Edith was holding her. Their eyes met, and Edith looked abruptly away, back down at Helen.
"I don't claim any right, you know, Edith," she told her gently, "You are her mother and I won't stand in the way of that."
"I think you probably have a more than reasonable claim to "Favourite Aunt"," Rosamund admitted graciously.
Isobel smiled gently.
"Imagine if she had me as a mother," she told them realistically, "An old woman like me. The other girls would poke fun at her at school."
Edith sniffed quietly.
"You would have sent her to school?" she asked.
"Yes, of course," Isobel replied abruptly, before realising, "I'm sorry, I forgot neither of you went."
"I think I may trust to your wisdom on this one," Edith told her, examining her daughter's face, "Tom intends that Sybbie should go to school, and I don't see why Helen shouldn't either."
There was a pause.
"Have you talked to Robert and Cora?" Isobel asked the pair of them.
"There are conversations to be had," Rosamund replied, unmistakeably wary, "I was wondering if it would be alright with you if Helen stayed here until then?"
"Yes, of course," Isobel replied.
She tried not to catch Richard's eye. She knew he was watching her. Implicit in the request that Helen stay a little longer was that one day she would leave.
Rosamund smiled a little.
"We owe you a great deal," she told Isobel, "Of course, I will pay for everything that-..."
"No you won't," Isobel told her, "There was no great expense anyway. I had a lot of the things in the attic still, and Richard was very good in giving me supplies from the hospital. Helen gave me purpose, and that was more than enough."
There was a silence.
"Would you like me to put her back to bed?" Isobel asked.
Edith nodded quietly.
"You may come to see her any time you like," Isobel told her, "You're always welcome."
She smiled as she said it, and Richard thought she did well to. She did remarkably well. She was calm, quiet and composed throughout, and above all sensitive to Edith. The effect of years of nursing certainly told in her.
It was not until they had said goodbye to Rosamund and Edith, and the door was shut behind them that she allowed him to gently take her hand, and, pressing the other to her mouth, crumbled, and sobbed; "She's really going to go."
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