Chapter 36
28th of January 1897
"Oh dear Lord" Prudence sprung up from her seat .
"It'll live." Dr. Gardner exclaimed with a chuckle. After all that effort to save this baby, he too had second thoughts about what he was about to do, the heartache he had to deliver to the mother next door. But he already had promised to find a suitable baby for Mr. and Mrs. Blake.
Dr. Gardner was one of London's most prominent obstetricians. He also was a very greedy man with a God complex. An overfed ego that took pleasure from giving to desperate childless couples the one thing they craved more than anything in the world, and his pockets were more than eager to be lined with their money. For him, it was nothing more than a win-win situation. His ethics were to use a light term, muddled. Taking newborns from poor families who had a lot of mouths already to feed didn't feel to him unethical, nor wrong. He had consent from the families. Didn't matter that given the chance of them being in a better financial situation, they would never have given their children away, but poverty and hunger push humans to exceed limits they never thought they existed.
Nor did it bother him that he kept most of the money for himself, and gave away only what could be considered a mere pittance for him. But that is what he did.
In the secretive world of couples infertility and adoption, Dr. Gardner had acquired a grant reputation. He sought finding children that fitted the expectations of the couples best. Many of them were weary of adopting children from orphanages, not knowing the families these children were coming from. Whether violence or drunkenness run into their blood. Others didn't even want to be known that the baby the mother would hold in her arms was from another woman's womb. Pretend pregnancies were not unusual. Expectant mothers disappearing from the social scene for nine months.
The doctor would source poor single young women who had fell pregnant by fake promises, or one lustful evening, perhaps one drink too many. There could be a whole array of reasons. All it mattered for him was for the woman to have been healthy in body and mind and the same for the man who wasn't keen to provide the future child with the presence of a father. Other times, the babies would come from working families who had fell into hardship with more mouths to feed than they wished. In all occasions, for the time it took for the baby to come into the world, the mothers would have been taken care of, regarding food and medicines. In the case of families, everyone would have staple food so not to go hungry for nine months.
Taking one of Mrs. Graham's babies was not in his plans. The woman didn't seem poor to offer her money. Not by a long shot. Nor did she look like as if she was hard done by life. She was eloquent, and very well mannered. He had suspected she wasn't British. Despite a carefully staged accent, he could tell a slight American twang as she talked. The Old Vicarage where she spend the last few months of her pregnancy wasn't just any place a couple went to hide from the prying eyes of society. Great poets and writers had stayed in this picturesque cottage that was situated in the village of Grantchester.
"But Grantchester! ah, Grantchester!
There's peace and holy quiet there, Great clouds along pacific skies, and men and women with straight eyes"
Rupert Brooke had said it best in his ode to Grantchester. Dr. Gardner understood that the man who came to ask for his expertise and his time to care and deliver Mrs. Graham's babies represented someone who must had been quite high up the British aristocratic circles, because not only he hadn't seen his face, he didn't even know his name.
So he risked a lot for deciding literally on the dying minute before the clock struck midnight to go ahead with this absurd plan of his. He had stared down at the bottom of his whiskey glass for a good hour, picking and unpicking thoughts and options, the what-ifs and the why-nots, what was possible and what was not, and he peered into the darkness of the late night, looking through his reflection on the window. Only two reasons remained.
For this pregnancy to be this secretive, his experience from frequenting London's higher class circles told him this relationship was already stepping on the wrong foot, so wrong it was, that it was weak and limping. But the unknown aristocrat charmer who had swept this young woman off her feet, hadn't spared any expense for her comfort and safety. So perhaps there was some love there. If by the Doctor's hand, one baby was to disappear, then perhaps that love could be enough to hold them together, as two toddlers, two heirs would have been worse than one. Especially if the twins were to be both boys, who would carry the title, who would gain the favour of his father? How would the other feel? In any way the Doctor was looking at this, it felt more and more that he would be making them a favour if he took one child away.
Philip and Irene Blake had been trying for a child of their own for the good part of a decade. On the outside, they looked as any other married couple. Affectionate to each other, popular within their own social circle of friends and acquaintances, charming, readily sharing a laugh, a dance, a conversation. They did not carry peerage, possessed any titles, but they were considered to be upper middle class, though not through family as much but through income. Philip was an ambitious man, strong willed, driven and hard working. Such was his drive for success, he had become the youngest manager at forty years old to take on the helm of the largest British bank at the time. But behind all that success and their social upstanding, they craved for a child. Irene more so than Philip, but he loved her. To not be able to fulfil that wish for her...the weight of this absence was heavy to carry. They approached Dr. Gardner with apprehension, not knowing how they could get their perfect baby, if it would happen. But he gave them hope. After a few months of waiting to hear back from him, the day of good news came when they got his message that he had found a family willing to give the baby away when it was born. It was a hard working family, found into bad times and there were too many mouths to feed. Although they would have welcomed it, they knew they would give it a better future by giving it away. The Blakes kept a measured optimism when they were told that in a few months, they would become parents. After trying for a decade, it was hard to believe that finally this was happening. They were adamant however, everything would be kept a secret. Irene would fake her pregnancy.
Dr. Gardner had done this many times and every time, he was able to deliver the much wanted babies to their new families without a hitch. Until when on his last visit to see the expectant mother before the delivery of her baby that would be the child Irene and Philip would have, she hesitated, and there was a change of heart. A big change of heart, that could not be turned around, no matter how much more money he would promise them.
Little did he know that when the messenger of the mysterious aristocrat showed up that fateful morning of September in the year 1897 to ask him for looking after the pregnancy and the delivery of Mrs. Graham's of twins as he later found out, he would have sealed the fate of those babies.
Even if the Doctor had qualms about what he had decided to do with Mrs. Graham's twins when he was presented with the opportunity, to think that he would have to deny Irene's hopes to become a mother, especially after everyone knew she was "expecting", her friends being elated after such the long struggle of the Blakes to become parents, despite the risk he was taking, he couldn't back down from letting them fulfil their dream.
So it was set. The baby boy whose birth was almost a miracle to witness, was to be the son Irene and Philip Blake had been craving. He stared at it as he handed it to Prudence, who wrapped it up in a cotton blanket and placed him in the cot next to his brother. It looked much thinner with darker coloured hair than its twin. It was as quiet as a mouse, poor thing, having been completely dazed by the chloroform in its bloodstream.
The train from Cambridge was almost reaching its destination in London. The eagerness Abigail felt, to complete her mission, to hand the baby to the Blakes was increasing by the minute. The moment Dr. Gardner asked for her to come to the room next door, had stayed with her, because she knew he was going back in to break the tragic news. The second of the twins did not survive past the birth. It would be best to focus all her love to the one that did survive. Twin deliveries always carry a higher risk of mortality. She and Prudence prepared the sleeping baby, covered it as if it was dead, and the bag she was to carry with her, they embraced and she left quietly from the front door of the room.
As she was making her way out, she heard the proprietor on the phone.
"Yes, sir," the voice was heard in the corridor. "I will let Mrs. Graham, her husband is on his way."
"Certainly, sir! Will do! I think all went well. Thank you sir!"
The train was slowing down. Abigail heard the whistle announcing that they were approaching Liverpool Street station. The wee face between the blankets yawned, and drew her attention from looking outside the window into the crowds of people standing at the platform. Her hand dived into her skirt pocket. She took out a handkerchief made out of the finest linen. It was embroidered with white silk. Her finger traced the coat of arms that was sewn on its left corner. A crowned swan standing on a gold crown with his wings opened as if he was about to fly.
Which family have we taken you away from, little one?
Her thoughts were stopped as abrupt was the jolt she felt as the train finally stopped. She quickly shoved the handkerchief within the baby's blankets. Pulled the woollen hat down to his eyes and got up. They had arrived in London.
A small crowd has gathered in front of Islington Infirmary. More police arrived. Some patrolled the perimeter of the hospital. If Christian Blake was to survive the knifing, they weren't taking chances. He was a valuable witness and in this case his life was rather detrimental to the person or persons who had burgled Lord Wooster's mansion.
Her much needed break down inside Terry's arms didn't last long. His calm voice soothed her soul.
"Thank you..." She said as she pulled her head up to see his face. The sheer tenderness in his eyes was so unexpected for her, she stood lost for a moment into that stare.
Soon enough though, urgency overtook her body and mind.
"I need to talk to the doctors." She said between her teeth and pulled herself away from him. Before he said anything back in response, she had already run inside in search of information. He remained looking at her figure walking down the hospital corridor. He worried for her. He also hoped for Christian to pull through this. The rest could wait till after. He pushed his hand through his hair. He couldn't make heads or tails out of what had happened. Why Christian was where he was found. He only had gone out for a smoke. And who was the woman who he hadn't see her face?
"How is she?"
Archie's question stopped his thoughts midway. He turned and looked at him. Isabel and Marion were with him, waiting to hear his answer. He turned his eyes down, realising he was still holding the bloodied towel Christian was holding over his wound. Everyone's eyes followed Terry's gaze.
"She'll pull through I guess..." He said, lifting his head up. "She's upset..." he added. They all passed through the hospital's doors, stopped at the wide, main hallway, close to the hospital reception. He sat down at one of the chairs in the waiting area. "It's Christian that I'm fearing for." He concluded and looked at everyone who had gathered, including his manager, Marion's parents, the head police officer, who moved forward.
"Mr..." He opened his mouth to ask Terry.
"Graham." Terry said, helping the police with the question.
"Mr. Graham, did the victim manage to say anything while you drove him here?"
The night outside the hospital had turned heavy. The rain had stopped, and the summer warmth was returning, despite this being just over midnight. The air held all the moisture. Any breeze that ruffled the canopy of the trees surrounding the hospital was welcomed. Especially if one had run for their lives after stabbing their partners. Droplets of water still rolled down the wet strands of her hair. Her stare on the other hand was fixed at the doors of the Infirmary, the same time as she tried to quiet down even her breathing. The place was brimming with bluebottles (*Cockney slang for police). They would have to guard him of course. Just in case someone would come to finish the job. She felt numb. Never had stabbed anyone before.
Alice Diamond may had been notorious to the police and the headlines that came out Fleet Street (*most newspapers were published there) for her robberies and her legendary escapes but she had never harmed anyone, let alone stabbed. The scene kept replaying in her mind. Charlie would have known by now. Billy would make sure he did. She shuddered despite the growing heat. She had to tell her man that this crazy fool saved her. It was her fault. He had warned her not to go at it that night. The party next door would keep the area busy with police. She knew but she wanted to impress him...The famous Raven, the Black Feathers.
Not many men were as defiant as he was in front of Charlie. Most had literally wet their trousers by the time they faced the leader of the most famous gang of London. But not Black Feathers. She could tell from his eyes, the crazy glint on them. If it wasn't for the American lass he was with, she knew he was able to get up and go away, refusing to obey. He wouldn't have lived long after, but still, he would have left that warehouse.
The weight of her actions bore heavy inside her. She wasn't one for tears, but it wasn't the hard rain that blinded her as she run through back gardens and empty streets protected by the darkness of the skies and the sudden madness of the weather.
She looked at her hands, wearing still the gloves she wore when she opened the safe inside the house. She proceeded taking them out all the while being able to recall the force of his hands on hers as she clasped the knife, unwilling to go through with what he had suggested. Her heart beat faster in her chest. She hoped to God, he was alive.
She had by all means to find a way inside the hospital. Before anything else, she had to see him. If he was alive and at that very moment, it was the one thing she wanted so very much, her body ached, she had to warn him. He could be in danger.
"He mentioned something about a woman, Officer..." Terry said and got up while catching the quizzing stare of Archie.
"A woman...?" The officer repeated while he jotted the detail down on his notepad.
"I don't know..." Terry said and shoved his hands in his pockets. "He could have been delirious...he was hardly hanging on." He added, while he craved for a cigarette.
"I'm sorry Mr. Graham...that must have been traumatic for you." The officer commended but Terry did not respond. He felt out of breath, claustrophobic. Too many people in a small space...the white walls, the echoes of the footsteps in the corridor. Candy hadn't returned.
"If you excuse me, I'm going out for a cigarette." He said and left without waiting for a response back.
"Do you have any leads, Officer?" Archie took the opportunity to step in as Terry left the waiting room.
"Nothing concrete at the moment...but what Mr. Graham said...it is interesting." He said, as he turned to look at Archie.
"Why is that Officer?" Sir Edward also joined the conversation, while his eyes followed his daughter as she left, following the young actor who fled the scene as if he was bitten by a wasp.
"I do not know if you had heard Sir Edward, but Lady Wooster did mention she had heard two people quarrelling - one of them she thought it was a woman's voice..."
Terry stepped out the hospital and took a deep breath. Immediately he felt better. His eyes scanned the quiet road in front of him. It bore no sign of the hubbub that had been played out just a little while ago. The only sign that not all was well, was the police officers that stood outside, looking stern inside their dark uniforms. He took a cigarette out and put it between his lips. He flicked the lighter between his fingers.
"What happened to you?" He heard Marion's voice behind him. She sounded puzzled, worried.
He took a deep drag of the cigarette before turning to face her.
"I don't like hospitals..." He said.
"How so?" She asked again.
He shrugged his shoulders and took another drag.
"Don't know... I just don't." He said again and pushed the smoke out.
She moved closer and stood next to him. She crossed her arms over her chest. An awkward silence fell between them. He offered her a cigarette which she took, feeling grateful for this gesture of his. He followed by offering his lighter. She cupped his hand with hers, in an attempt to keep the flame intact.
"Is it because you lost your fiancée?" She asked, while watching the cigarette tip lighting up.
He half smiled, and his brows got closer together while he felt annoyed but amused at the same time. She really hadn't figured him out at all. He took another drag of his cigarette.
"My my...aren't you Miss Little Nosey Parker..." He commended. He sounded irritated and didn't bother hiding it.
"I just happened to read an article about you..." She said biting her bottom lip in response.
"I am sorry..." She added after letting a moment pass.
Terry didn't respond right away. Took another drag, while he kept looking at the street, let the smoke out and flicked the cigarette butt in front of him.
"Don't be..." He said. "It's been a while now..." He turned and fixed his eyes on her. He looked tired. She wondered what was going on in his head, what was he thinking. She hadn't missed her friend diving in his arms and how he responded. But she dare not bring any of that up. Not now at least.
"It's me who should apologise...for my behaviour after..." He continued and that apology made her brows jump. It was totally unexpected and took her by surprise so much so, she took one step back to focus on his face better. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed.
"Mr. Graham is sorry for being intensely moody after kissing him?"
He chuckled.
"Me moody...?" He faked surprise. "I've been described worse things before...but I do know when an apology is due, Marion." He explained to her with a faint smile.
His face changed again, turning back to serious. Clouds started gathering in his eyes. She really hadn't met anyone before who's mood changed as fast as his. If anything she could compare it with, it was those storms in the tropics that came out of nowhere. Sudden and violent and then quiet not long after. On the surface, you'd think all remained the same, but on a closer look, you could tell that everything had changed. She wondered whether it was life that had turned him like that. Every single thing he did, created more questions in her head. She stared at his beautiful profile. A true matinée idol, and she had tasted his lips. Tingles rose up her skin. The cigarette between her fingers had gone off. She threw it away.
"Well thank you for that..." She said with a quiet tone. He turned again her way.
"You better go back inside...your parents will wonder whether I kidnapped you."
"Don't put thoughts in my mind, you don't want them to be there." She teased him.
"Oh! I daren't think what is hidden in that head of yours." He responded in equal measure. "Now, go!" He ordered her.
She realised that her time was up. He wasn't one who sought companion. At least she had realised that for Terry. Without saying anything else, she turned and went back into the hospital. Archie held the door as she came in and he came out. He walked towards Terry while he spent one last glance at Marion in the distance.
"She's really into you Terry." He said and chuckled.
"She makes me smile..." Terry responded. He also never expected to discuss with Archie his affairs with women other than Candy.
"Smile you say?!" He sure sounded surprised Terry thought. "Have you mentioned that to my cousin by any chance?" He added with amusement. And yes, he was wrong. Candy would always be present between them two.
"What's my opinion of Marion has to do with Candy?" He asked.
"Oh! Plenty!" Archie explained. "But you're too blind and she..." His voice trailed off, not finishing his sentence. He realised this wasn't the time or place.
"Lady Wooster also said she thinks she heard a woman..." He brought the news to the discussion.
"Did she?" Terry asked while taking another cigarette out from the case, and offered Archie one also.
"Apparently there was some quarrelling and one voice sounded like a woman's." He repeated Lady Wooster's statement to the police.
Terry didn't comment. He did wonder what could have happened though. The only one who could say was fighting for his life. He had to go back in. Candy sure had taken time to come back from her search about Christian.
"It all sounds fishy if you ask me..." Archie said as he blew the smoke out.
He really didn't have the heart to sit there and make assumptions for someone who may have been dead already. Archie obviously didn't share that. Terry on the other hand - He had been accused plenty of times completely unfairly, just based on his reputation. On hearsay. So, yes. Christian may had been his rival. He may even seem like he carried secrets. But deep down, Terry knew he wasn't a bad apple. He wasn't going to accuse him of anything before there was some evidence of him doing anything bad.
"Cornwell, what I think is that the air in London has turned you into a Sherlock wannabe." He said sharply and threw the cigarette away. It was irrational he knew, but he was getting angrier. He saw the confusion in his friend's eyes. "What's the matter...your lover doesn't keep you occupied enough?" He let the sarcasm drip from his words.
Anger flashed in Archie's eyes. He threw the cigarette away. "Once a bastard, always a bastard..." He mumbled the moment Terry made a move towards the hospital. Archie's words stopped him in his tracks. He stayed for a moment there but didn't turn to face Archie.
"This is not the time or the place to discuss my status...some other time, I'm all yours" He said with a firm voice and left.
Archie was left fuming. Not to mention completely dumbfounded. It was as if he had stepped right back into his adolescence with Terry being exactly the obnoxious ass he once had been. To be honest, he hadn't veered very much off from being as difficult to handle. But Archie had understood early on that Terry had realised his weaknesses and he kept them in check. Not this time it seemed. Still his words cut and he could feel the effects on his blood that was boiling in his veins. He would floor him with his fists with much happiness if he was given the opportunity.
But not now. Despite Terry's treatment, he had to admit, he was right on one thing. Archie was jumping to conclusions when he wasn't even sure whether Christian was to live to see another day. Perhaps he was as innocent as one man can be, but he couldn't shake the hunch he had that this stabbing amongst everything else strange that happened around or at Christian himself, they somehow had a connection with whatever he was keeping secret from them.
He felt a breeze on his face. He welcomed it, given how hot he felt after Terry's verbal attack. He turned and went back inside, having managed to calm down a bit.
In the distance, Terry saw her coming out a door deep down the main hospital corridor. She wasn't rushing back. For a moment he worried if something was wrong with her, but then he realised. Worry was dragging her down, making her steps heavy and slow. How he wished to be able to take everything bad that happened from her shoulders and her soul. Their eyes met.
For the both of them, the burden was double. Half was due to the present events, and half was the re-living of what had happened between them on such a cold hospital corridor a long time ago. Their eyes knew. Their eyes couldn't hide. As she was coming closer, Terry realised the reason of his uncalled for behaviour. His running outside, how he lashed out to Archie. Somehow he was thrust, without him having any say, into a dark hole that had brought him back to that fateful night.
She looked pale. She looked a mess. Everyone run towards her. How is Christian? My God you look a mess my dear Rose. Everyone spoke at the same time.
"He's been stabilised for now, and they are looking for internal bleeding" She said quietly without having too much strength in her voice. "They'll operate if they do find something..." She continued. "If not, they'll stitch him up and wait for him to awake when he does." She made her way towards an empty chair and let herself fall on it.
"You look pale..." Terry told her as he moved closer. She looked up. "I am tired." She really did not have the strength to speak much and she sure wasn't particularly keen to have all of them waiting with her, despite knowing their worry was earnest.
She looked at everyone. "Thank you all for being here for Christian more than anything. At the moment, he is in the best hands possible so there is nothing you can do by waiting. It would be best to go home and rest, and check here in the morning."
After she reassured them for a second and a third time, they all made their way towards the hospital doors. Terry turned back. He wasn't going to leave her all alone. Heck if the police kept officers at the hospital, he would be damned if he obeyed her wish and left her there on her own.
"I'm not leaving." He said to her when he approached the empty chairs next to the one she was sitting. She was still with that flimsy evening dress. He took his jacket off. She brought her brows together and propped herself better on the chair, ready to object. She looked at him for a moment, his hand outstretched towards her, holding the jacket. "You can protest all you want, if it makes you feel better." She took the jacket without saying anything.
He sat down next to her. "It is dry now." He said, prompting her to wear it. He heard her moving as she was putting his jacket on, closed his eyes and let his head touch the wall behind him. "If you want some peace as I thought you do, we can stay like that." He added. That was the last Terry spoke. He pushed his hands inside the pockets of his trousers.
"Thank you." He heard her soft tone of her voice. She mimicked the way he was and let her head fall back as she closed her eyes.
"You are welcome" He responded after he heard no more of her moving.
"For everything I mean..." She added a couple of minutes later.
He took a deep breath. She still hadn't realised he would walk to the four corners of the earth for her if she asked him to. After all these years...He pressed his lips.
"I may be a lot of bad things Candy..." He said without moving at all, "But I'll always be here for you." The tone in his voice...
A wave of shivers crawled up through her body like electricity. He didn't leave any doubt in his admission. The shivers caught up with her breathing and she had to take a deep breath in to calm them down.
"I am sorry for before too..." He heard her voice again, a little more hesitant this time.
She had to say it. Although what he had witnessed between Terry and her friend, now felt so far away, it was as if it belonged to another lifetime. Still it weighed on her mind. It was infused with guilt. A lot of it. She had dismissed the fact that Christian was out, though deep down she knew something wasn't right because he seemed very absent minded that evening. Something was preoccupying his mind and she never bothered to ask. All because her attention had shifted towards Terry and Marion. It wasn't much to think about it now. It only made her eyes sting but she couldn't change anything, or solve anything if she cried because of it.
"It's not something I'd discuss now..." He said. "I shouldn't have let it happen there."
She didn't elaborate any further either. Terry was right. At the end of the day, she had no say over his life. And that was a fact. She took another deep breath.
"I noticed, you haven't contacted anyone for Christian." He said changing the subject as it was turning into sensitive areas, he wasn't keen to approach.
"What do you mean?" Candy asked him, and opened her eyes. Footsteps from the nurses in the night shift echoed in the corridors.
"He has no family around?" He asked her.
"His parents have died. Adopted like myself but sad story..." She said.
"No other siblings?" He asked again, sounding intrigued.
"Nope, he's on his own." She added again.
Terry couldn't help but notice the connection Candy felt to him. Both adopted, without families. What if he had a family though? The way they had treated him, he had wished many times he could have been on his own. It was only as an adult, he had managed to work through his issues and come close to his mother. Still, he kept her out of his affairs like someone who's allergic to pollen and bans all the flowers from his home. She had been so tender to him while she cared for him when he broke his foot. Unexpectedly they had bonded when he mentioned he had found Susanna's diary.
One night, enjoying a bottle of wine or two, he read to her some parts from her diary. This was a seismic event for Terry. But what followed made it even more profound. Because Eleanor disappeared for a moment and appeared again, holding another diary. Her own. And there were secrets in there, he never knew.
"I never told you..." He started saying, "I didn't know either but," he continued and opened his eyes. "I had a twin brother..."
He turned towards her. His statement caught her by surprise. So big, she almost jumped off her seat. She immediately turned and locked his eyes into hers.
"A twin brother?!" She yelled and then went quiet. More noise was heard in the corridor. The footsteps were growing louder. A doctor made his appearance in the waiting room.
"Miss White," The doctor named her as he came in. Both her and Terry got up. The doctor looked at him. "Mr. Graham is a good friend, keeping me company as I waited for your news Dr. Hart." She said, giving him the ok to continue.
"There are good news and bad news I'm afraid." He began giving Christian's outlook. "There is no internal haemorrhage from what it seems, after the laparoscopic examination we performed as you know." Terry figured out Candy had told them of her nursing background since the doctor spoke to her with all the full medical terms.
"Oh that is great Dr. Hart!" Candy exclaimed, her eyes watering up with relief.
"The bad news now is that he has lost a lot of blood...and he urgently needs transfusion." He said and pressed his lips.
"What blood group is he?" Candy asked him right away. "I can give my blood. I'm O type, I can give to everyone."
"Oh! That is encouraging! He will need more than what you can give him however..." He added. "He is AB type."
"Christian's in luck!" Terry butted in the conversation. "I am of the same blood type, AB"
Candy turned and looked at him. He realised the question on her eyes. "I got tested when Susanna..." his voice trailed off but for Candy it was enough. She hated dragging the past as much as he had. Whatever it was, it wasn't something he was willing to share and she respected that.
The Doctor was overjoyed. He took them both with him to the room they were performing the transfusions.
As they were being prepped, she turned and looked at him. A nurse was rolling his sleeve up. She was drowning in a sea of feelings and the tears she held pooled at the edges of her bottom eyelashes. He turned his eyes from his arm to her, just as the nurse was driving the needle in his vein.
"Don't turn emotional on me love. I can't do needles and tears at the same time." He teased her with a laugh. He too felt relief. The poor bastard would live. And she would be happy. That's what mattered to him.
"Thank you Terry..." She said with gratefulness in her voice just while the nurse pushed the needle in her arm too.
He turned his eyes towards the ceiling, cleared his throat but kept silent. He risked showing her more than he was willing to reveal. Their blood rushed down the tubes. "You didn't continue with your twin..." Candy said.
"Oh...he didn't survive the birth," He said. "I got to read from Eleanor's diary when I was recuperating at her house with my broken foot - long story - I can tell you one day." He concluded and turned his head towards her.
She looked into his eyes, how soft they were resting on her face. Her heart was racing. She felt light headed. "I am sorry Terry."
"Thank you." He said. "It makes not much of a difference but it makes you also think what if..."
She didn't commend. She knew very well all those what ifs...She had lived with what ifs for most of her life.
There wasn't much of conversation taking place after that. Both of them were exhausted, so much so they collapsed on the chairs of the waiting room after the nurse had enough blood for Christian. Sleep came to both of them while waiting to hear. Each carrying their own dreams behind those closed eyelids.
A line of light had started showing up in the dark horizon when the doctor came. Both woke up right away.
"Miss White, he's now in his room, and happy to say haemodynamically stable, thanks to the both of you" he announced. There were deep breaths of relief and wide smiles.
"Can we see him?" Candy asked.
"He's sleeping but you can, certainly." He replied to her question.
"You go..." Terry said, "I'll wait here."
"No Terry, you helped him as much as I." Candy protested, "He'll be happy for you to be there."
Dr. Hart led them to Christian's room. They entered in silence.
"I'll leave you for five minutes." He whispered to them and left them alone in the room.
Her eyes blurred with fresh tears. He looked as white as a piece of paper, vulnerable, weak.
"He'll be fine, Rose." Terry said, stopping at the name everyone in London knew her with.
28th of January 1897
Abigail left Liverpool train station in a hurry, walking fast between people going about their everyday lives on the busy streets in the surrounding area. She had taken a piece of paper out with an address. She would meet with the Blakes, not at their residence but at a room they had rented for the day. They would have been there waiting. The moment she found the building, she sighed with relief. The little baby had started becoming more agitated. Soon he would have to be fed and be held in his "mother's" arms.
She knocked at the door. A tall woman in her mid-thirties opened the door. She wasn't a natural beauty as they say but she looked quite groomed and elegantly dressed. Her husband approached in a haste to help. Equally tall and slender, he was attractive looking, not because of any striking features on his face, but there was intelligence and goodness inside his dark blue eyes. He wasn't more than forty years old. Both looked nervous and excited at the same time.
"You must be Abigail." Irene Blake said with a very charming, warm voice. Her eyes though fell straight on the bundle she was carrying in her arms. She outstretched hers towards Abigail.
"And this is..." She said,
"And this is your son" Abigail said. She felt emotional for so many reasons. For what they had done to the young woman back at the Old Vicarage, for the joy those people were clearly showing on their faces...So many conflicting emotions.
A little while after, Abigail with a cup of steaming tea, described them everything...how this boy's birth was a miracle. Omitting however to say where the baby came from.
Irene and Philip heard with gasps of fear and surprise, utter elation at the end. Tears were swimming in the woman's eyes. She looked at the little baby boy. It was hers now.
"Husband..." She said and turned her head to see him as he stood by the window behind her. "Given what we heard about this blessed soul" She continued as the thought was forming in her head.
"Yes dear..."
"I think we should name him in God's honour..." She announced. "We should name him"
"Christian..." she whispered by his side as he was sleeping. He let a soft groan. "My love..."
Two grey blue eyes opened. Saw her first, then Terry behind her.
"Rose..." He whispered with a rough voice. She smiled her best smile ever, feeling as grateful as she had ever felt. Her prayers had been listened too.