The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1384 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

After I’d asserted myself to the midwife, who ran off like a scalded cat, I told Stella to sleep–reinforcing the suggestion I sent her through the energy. She would need her energy for whatever was to happen–good or bad.

I became increasingly worried about the baby–if only I could get my hands in there and turn her round–yeah sure. I stood at the business end of the bed and imagined I could see inside the womb–I was still sending love to the baby to try and keep her alive and calm–birth is traumatic when it goes well–if it doesn’t it must be awful for all concerned.

I could see the baby, the cord wrapped round it but not dangerously so. I then imagined my hands inside the womb, moving her. She felt as slippery as a bar of soap as I tried to concentrate more and more on lifting her slightly and twisting her round. It was all so tight in there and was like trying to put a film in a camera inside a hot-water bottle.

I could feel trickles of sweat running down my back and I’ll bet my bra was damp as well, slowly but surely I struggled to turn the baby round, using my imagination and the blue energy–it almost felt like keyhole surgery.

I was also trying to keep intrusion at bay, so those who were coming to see us would suddenly remember they needed to do something first like go to the loo. It’s an old magickal trick which I saw in a book years ago–by someone called Crowley or something, can’t remember now.

I managed finally to grab hold of the baby’s legs and bending them at the knee folder her over and turned her so her head could engage–this usually happens hours if not a day or so before–so why they hadn’t realised it, goodness only knows.

“Okay, Stella–start to push,” I said quietly and she did so although she was still sleeping.

I imagined the blue light like a lubricant easing the muscles of the birth canal and greasing the way for the bay to slip out. I also relaxed the intruder control and one of the midwives came bursting in.

“How is she?”

“She’s doing fine and so’s the baby–she’s coming–look.”

“She’s not breech,” she gasped, “c’mon, Stella, push.”

I went back to sit by the exhausted mother, “Okay girl wakey-wakey, let her come, she’s beautiful, just let her come. Minutes later, a beautiful little girl popped into the world, just as the doctor arrived. He looked irritated at being called out for a wild goose chase and began to tear a strip off the midwives.

“Hang on, doctor, the fees my family is paying here, why weren’t you here from the beginning?”

“I had another engagement,” he sneered.

“In which case I presume you’ll refund that part of the account–the one for your services which weren’t rendered.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve just driven twenty miles to get here.”

“I’ve driven three times that, and seemed to be here in time whereas you weren’t.”

“Just who d’you think you are?”

“More than a match for you, sunshine, oh and make sure you take some antacid or that fillet steak you had is going to rebound all night–it was the pepper sauce, doesn’t do your ulcer any good–oh, but then you didn’t know you had one did you? Peptic, I believe they call them–and lay off the booze or you’ll lose your licence–driving and possibly your medical one–it’s certain if I complain, my barrister will eat you and you medical defence team.”

He looked suddenly pale. “Peptic?” you said.

“Absolutely.”

“How do you know?” he asked looking quite ill.

“You don’t really want to know that do you?”

He looked at me very anxiously–“Am I going to be alright?”

“If you get it sorted and stop your affair–it’s the stress of your wife finding out that’s the problem.”

“How the fuck do you know about that?”

“About Michelle, although you call her Pussy-cat, don’t you?”

“Have you been spying on me?”

“No, you’ve told me all this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous?”

“Maybe you should ask Cherry?”

“You leave my wife out of this.”

“Like you have–don’t you think she suspects already? Only staying with you because she loves you as do your kids–Sally and Laura, isn’t it?”

“Stop this, d’you hear?”

“Is any of it untrue?”

“All of it.”

“Fine–sue me then–and we’ll see. Of course, I’ll demand huge compensation for your slander and you’ll have to pay legal fees too, half a million or more–you’d be ruined in all senses. A proven liar, adulterer and general arsehole as well as being bankrupted.”

“I have to go.” He staggered out of the door and I suspect went home–I hope there aren’t any police about because he’d had more than the limit.

The two midwives had wiped the baby weighed and measured her and Stella was laying there holding her as the little one yawned and slept in her arms.

“You certainly tore him off a strip, Cathy,” offered one of the midwives.

“What was said stays in this room or the scans of the breech birth will come to see daylight and you will find yourself in hot water with your professional body.”

“Yeah–no problem–how did you turn her–because you did, didn’t you?” asked the senior midwife.

“I simply asked her to stand on her head and she did.”

“You’re joking.”

“Of course I am, I used a magnet–all babies are magnetic–didn’t you know?”

“Now I know you’re joking,” she laughed, “How did you do it?”

“With difficulty. Now how about a nice cup of tea?”

They scurried off and we were left in peace.

“Thanks, Cathy.”

“I did it for my niece not my awful sister in law.”

“It was her that said it,” smirked Stella.

“Bit of a deep voice for a baby.”

“Yeah–she has hasn’t she–she is okay, healthy I mean?”

“Of course, I don’t deliver damaged packages, do I?”

“No.”

“What are you going to call her?” I asked.

“We like Fiona and Catrin.”

“Crikey, a real Celtic mix.”

“Well, it’s Gareth’s grandmother’s name, and Fiona is my gran’s name.”

“Fiona? Um–is that okay, Fiona?” I asked the baby who yawned.

“Well, if we have any more Catherine’s, we won’t know who’s who?” said Stella.

“I thought Catrin was Welsh for Catherine? We had a girl at Sussex who was from Carmarthen who was called Catrin.”

“Damn, Gareth said you’d work it out.”

“So–it’s different enough, and I feel very flattered.”

“Hi, ladies,” in walked the proud father–“oh, she’s come–can I hold her?” Stella held her up for him to take carefully. “I’m sorry I missed your entrance, little one.”

“I think it was just as well, Cathy had trouble sorting out the mistakes they made here. Oh and she guessed–about the names.”

Gareth looked at me suspiciously.

“I’m deeply flattered and I love it. Oh, and before I forget, congratulations to the new mum and dad.”