Chapter 12
When it became apparent that the baby, restless or not, was in no hurry, James made her walk. Or rather, he proposed walking, on pragmatic grounds, and she gratefully agreed to the excuse to leave her bed again. Laying on her back waiting was getting her nowhere, and grating terribly on her nerves besides. But, almost as soon as she climbed to her feet, she felt something change. It wasn't pain, exactly, certainly nothing like the earlier contractions, but there was no ignoring the tremendous, almost oppressive sense of downward pressure she was suddenly feeling.
Part of her worried, irrationally, that the baby might just fall out and crack its skull on the floor, and she had to tell herself firmly that this simply was not how childbirth worked. As much as the baby apparently wanted out, that wasn't going to happen without time, or considerable effort on her part. And, as much as it felt otherwise, she was nowhere near being ready to expel the child from her body. Walking would help speed things along, or so generations of old wives and folk healers would have it.
So she leaned on James, gingerly putting one foot ahead of the other, time and again. From the bedroom to a sitting room, where they stood for some time watching snow falling outside. From the sitting room to the library, where she selected a few volumes for James to read to her during the labour. Back to the sitting room, where she had to rest for several minutes in the aftermath of another, more powerful contraction. Then, slowly, back up to the bedroom where she gratefully crawled back into bed, feeling a bit spent despite the relatively minor nature of her exertions.
"There, now, how do you feel?" he asked, settling the blankets around her and pouring fresh tea. "Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine for now."
"Do you feel any different?" he pressed gently, sitting on the edge of the bed again.
"Yes," she conceded, nodding. "I can't explain quite how, but something has changed. The baby's still again, and I feel... rather like I feel before the thunderstorm. That sense of anticipation before the storm breaks. It's... a pleasant anxiety."
"Pleasant?" he repeated, raising a brow. "You can't be looking forward to what's coming?"
"No, not really." She bit her lip, shaking her head and explaining, "But I find myself looking forward to what comes after."
He smiled slowly at that, nodding. "I know. I'm looking forward to it, too. Growing up, I always assumed I'd never have a family, let alone one I could really care for. I'm glad I was wrong."
"So am I, James," she answered, taking his hand. "We may not be traditional, but I honestly believe we have a very good chance at being happy."
His expression took on an aspect she'd never seen from him before at her words, softening and somehow seeming to turn equal parts shyly avoidant and openly adoring. Biting his lip, he hesitantly lifted his hand to rest against her stomach, remaining silent for a long moment before speaking.
"You already know I'll do everything in my power to make you both happy. Anything I can. Just tell me what you need and it'll be yours."
"I know, James. You don't have to convince or reassure me."
"If I were in your position, I'd need all the reassurance I could get," he chuckled, lightly caressing her stomach.
"If you were in my position, it would be a medical miracle, James Watson."
He snorted gently at that, shaking his head. "You know what I mean, woman."
She smiled up at him, shaking her head. "How long since my last contraction?"
"A good five minutes," he declared after consulting his pocket-watch. "How do you feel?"
"Like I need to use the chamber pot again," she admitted, biting her lip.
He hesitated, turning a little pink. "You're welcome to, of course, and I'll help if you need. But the odds are that you could... make a mess in the bed anyway, once labour picks up."
"Oh, James, don't," she groaned, shaking her head. "I'd die!"
"You'd be humiliated and it would pass quickly," he countered firmly. "I've read up on this, Helen. I know what to expect, and you won't shock me. Childbirth is an unpleasant, messy business in all cases, and you'll be no special exception. I'm afraid it's a bit late to quibble about that now."
"I hate you," she grumbled, not meaning it, but too irritable to stop herself. Hugging her low belly, she shot him a dirty look. "I need to use the chamber pot."
"Do you need assistance?" he asked, ignoring her cross behaviour.
"James, don't be shocking," she protested, shaking her head.
"Considering what's about to pass between us, that's hardly a shocking consideration."
"I hate you," she repeated, cheeks flaming and humiliation forming a sick knot in her gut.
"You're welcome to try without help, but you know how clumsy you've been lately," he pointed out reasonably. "I'd rather not clean up a spilled pot if I can help it."
"Then make Mrs. Baines do it. I don't want your help until I need it, James!" she sighed, shaking her head hard.
He looked a bit bemused, but nodded and climbed to his feet. "I'll wait outside."
"Thank you," she answered primly, wobbling to her feet.
It was bad enough that he would be poking and prodding her most intimate regions at such a vulnerable moment. It seemed almost unthinkable that he should have to be involved in base, filthy bodily functions of the other sort. It was difficult to use the pot with a low, bulging stomach, clumsy limbs, and enough pain that her body didn't want to move itself into the usual position, but she managed it after a few minutes of fussing and improvising. It took longer than it would have normally, and cleaning herself up was a nightmare, but she managed in the end, and was grateful to climb back into bed, even if she still couldn't find a comfortable position.
"James, you can come back," she called after a few moments.
He returned, looking worried. "Did you manage all right, then?"
"Please, James. I don't want to talk about those sorts of things."
"No, of course not. I merely wanted to be sure everything was as it should be. I was starting to worry when you took so long to call me back inside. Did you have another contraction?"
"I don't think so, but there's much more pressure than there was earlier."
He nodded at that. "I should examine you soon," he told her, tone and expression apologetic. "Do you want to wait until after you have your next contraction, or get it over with now?"
She swallowed hard, biting her lip and squirming nervously. Of course, she'd known that James would have to look at, and even touch, her intimate parts, but the reality of that was only just hitting her now. "I suppose you can... it's only a medical examination, after all. There's nothing indecent in it."
"No, of course not," he agreed quickly, shaking his head.
"Besides, it's nothing you haven't seen before," she added to nerve herself up, forcing a laugh.
He gave a laugh of his own, a nervous twitter. "I wouldn't go that far."
Biting her lip, she shook her head. "Come now, James. Perhaps it hasn't been in this context, but I'm sure you've seen at least one or two naked women before."
"Pictures in medical texts, of course, but I suppose that's close enough," he answered with a nervous laugh.
Her blush was back, and she stared at him with wide eyes. "Haven't you ever been with a woman, James?"
"Helen, is this really the time?" he protested quietly.
"I merely assumed... you're so handsome, and pleasant to be around..."
"I've been... waiting. It does happen." He shrugged, clearing his throat. "Call me a bit of a snob, but I can't love just anyone. And I would never take a woman to bed if I didn't love her."
"No, no, I suppose you wouldn't," she admitted, studying his red face and nervous eyes closely. "It's not too late to call the midwife," she offered gently. "I think this could be the kind of experience that could put a man off of women forever..."
"I won't be so easily swayed," he answered, shaking his head. "Unless this changes something for you, I see no reason to change our existing arrangements."
She studied his face and found conviction there. Anxiety, of course, but purposeful strength as well. Lying back, she nodded once, closing her eyes. It seemed wrong that his first glimpse of a female's intimate parts should be while they were so horribly distorted and strained but, if he saw no reason to make an issue of that, she supposed she shouldn't, either.
"It's only a medical examination," he repeated her words, patting her knee. "One of a dear friend, no less. Of course I'll take no advantage. You needn't concern yourself."
"James!" she chided gently, opening her eyes. "That's not my concern at all. I simply would have wished for your first experience of a woman's body to be more enjoyable for you."
"I'd rather help a dear friend like you than take a quick tumble with some senseless twit, any day," he answered with a shrug. "Perhaps, with time, I'll find a female lover I can really care for. Perhaps not. But none of that will change the fact that I'll always be happy to give you what aid and support I can. I want to do this for you, Helen, and you mustn't worry that it will be somehow troubling for me. It will be my honour."
"Thank you, James," she sighed, taking his hand. "I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you."
"I don't know what I did to deserve one like you," he answered with a shrug and a faint smile. "We're well-matched in that regard. We're well-matched in many regards."