(aka Bike) Part 2042 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
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Simon must have heard my car pull up to the house because he came down in his dressing gown. “I thought I said no more babies.”
“Tell her that,” I said handing him the carrycot.
“What’s her name?” he hissed at me.
“Lizzie I think.” While he carried the baby into the kitchen I grabbed a pile of nappies and clothing. While she slept away on the kitchen table, we laboured to bring in all the stuff.
“How long is she staying?”
“How do I know? Her mother’s in hospital with a fractured skull, she was unconscious and not breathing when I got there.”
“Oh wonderful, brain damaged, then.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, she revived quite quickly.”
“I thought you said she was unconscious?”
“She was–I meant she started breathing and her heart started again by itself.”
“While you were there, sure it did.”
“I might have helped it a little.”
“Cathy, you’ve raised the dead more often that that bloke in the Bible.”
“Yeah, very funny.”
“I didn’t mean it like that–but you have.”
“Perhaps I need the practice.”
“What are we going to do with Tiny Wee?”
“Take her up with us.”
“Not in our bedroom, we aren’t.”
“Okay, so where would you put a strange baby for one night?”
“In the garage?”
“That’s not funny, Simon. What if she died in there?”
“Okay, but why our bedroom?”
“You can stay down here if you like but I’m taking her with me.”
“C’mon then, let’s go up and get it over with.” He took the carrycot and started up the stairs. I was going to suggest we had a cuppa first but that would simply mean I had to get up to go for a wee later. I moved the baby’s stuff off the table and went up to the bedroom.
Simon had placed the carrycot on top of a chest of drawers and I checked the baby was okay and still asleep before changing back to my pyjamas and getting into bed.
“You can’t keep it, it has to go back tomorrow,” said my lord and master as I got into bed.
“Aw, you spoilsport,” I whined and that woke up our sleeping visitor. I rushed over to her and shoved her dummy back in and she sucked on it a few times before seeming to settle down. I returned to bed and had just got comfortable when it happened again. This time the dummy didn’t work and I had to take her downstairs for a feed, Simon remained in bed.
As I carried her down the stairs she was searching for my nipples, locking on to one through my pyjama top. I stopped, pulled up the top and she practically swallowed my whole breast. I’d thought my milk had dried up because I didn’t feed Cate very often these days–just no time and she was coping quite well with solids, albeit liquidised ones. However, my breasts must still work because I could feel the milk flowing as she sucked me dry then fell asleep still attached to my nipple.
I stroked her face and she started sucking again, I transferred her to the other breast and this time she took a few sucks and zonked, my nipple still in her mouth–at least she didn’t have any teeth yet.
I changed her and burped her–not necessarily in that order, then put her down to sleep, it was three in the morning. Thank goodness it was Saturday tomorrow, then I had think–no it wasn’t, it was Friday–damn.
The alarm woke me from some not very nice dream but as I awoke it faded and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. Simon had gone–I’m sure he’s some sort of robot–it would certainly explain a few things. I dragged myself out of bed and without waking Lizzie, woke up the rest of them. I showered quickly and dressed, pulling on a nursing bra with some pads, my nipples were leaking just a little.
I went down to the kitchen and explained to Tom what had happened, or what I thought had happened. He was quite upset to think that Gloria was quite poorly and that possibly Neal was the perpetrator. It was obvious that Neal wouldn’t be into work for that day and depending upon what happened regarding Gloria’s injuries, he could be unavailable for some time.
“Sae wha’s lookin’ efter thae bairn?”
“Guess,” I retorted.
He nodded, “I’ll tak’ the lassies tae school f’ye.”
“Thanks, Daddy, that would be really useful.”
“An I suppose ye want thae day off?”
I flung my arms around him, “You’re so good, Daddy.”
“Aye, when I dae whit ye want.”
“Of course,” I hugged him again and he held me for a moment.
“Hoo lang will she be staying?”
“I don’t know.” I related what I knew of the story and how I found Neal’s story a bit strange and his actions or lack of them even stranger.
“Ye think he did this?”
“It’s an assumption, but it feels right.”
“Aye, gie a dug a bad name...”
“Okay, I’ll wait and see what happens.”
He nodded and poured himself a cup of treacle like coffee and I went to check on the children. Danny was just coming down as I went up, he wished me a good morning–or he grunted for the requisite number of syllables–so I assumed what he said rather than heard it.
Of course once the girls realised I was fostering Gloria’s baby they had to see her which woke her up and I had to sort her out before she’d go back to sleep. I drank a glass of water and started to feed her–if you want to breast feed you have to be well hydrated or your milk dries up.
When Phoebe discovered her niece was staying with us, she cancelled her day at the salon to stay home and help me, she was on half term holiday from college. She watched me feed her and sighed.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Well, she’s my niece and you’re the one who’s feeding her.”
I thought she was going to say, ‘I’m the real girl and can’t feed her, so how come you can?’ She didn’t thank goodness, so perhaps I’m just paranoid. I expressed some milk and shoved it in the fridge. “If I have to go out, use this,” I pointed to the two small bottles in the fridge, “If that’s not enough, see if Stella has any.”
“What in her fridge?”
“No, in her breasts.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What isn’t?”
“I’m her auntie and seem to be the only female here who can’t feed her. It would be just my luck for Trish to be able to do it before I can.”
As Trish is unpredictable I decided not to pooh-pooh her ideas, but it did seem somewhat unlikely. Instead of suggesting she was exaggerating, I helped her bring the baby downstairs where she could breakfast and keep an eye on her. Multi-tasking the easy way.
I called the hospital to find out how Gloria was and they wouldn’t tell me, not being a relative. When I explained I was looking after her daughter, they softened a little telling me to put her on the phone. I explained she was six months old.
“In that case, I can relate that she hasn’t become conscious yet and is scheduled for further tests and possibly surgery later today.”
“For a skull fracture?”
“Yes, how did you know that?”
“One of the paramedics mentionsed CSF, I know that requires an injury such as a fracture of the skull to have it leaking from her ear.”
“You know as much as I do then, just a word of warning, don’t count on giving back the baby today.”
“Why ever not?”
“I think the father is in custody for assault.”
“Oh.” Was my response.
Comments
Neal, Neal, Neal
And here I thought you were such a nice man.
At this rate Cathy's breast milk will never dry out :)
Kim
Looks like Neal's in the deep brown and pungent
Now it only wants Glo to not wake up from surgery and guess who's left holding the baby?
We'll be calling Cathy 'Old Mother Hubbard' next.
S.
“I think the father is in custody for assault.â€
no surprise there then, I pretty much feared that might happen, Sadly incidents like this are not the rarity they should be, Sometimes its parents who are plainly inadequate for looking after children, In other cases (and possibly this one ) the father cannot deal with having his place at the centre of his wives universe taken away from him and reacts by lashing out, Maybe this was an isolated incident for Neal, But you have to say the portents do not look good...
Kirri
Will be very disapointed with neal
if that really is the case. Of course it is, just never did grow up so very sad.
Thank you so much Ang, for another very entertaining chapter, with characters we care about
Goddess Bless you
Love Desiree
They say after the third baby,
any others just don't seem to add to the work. Load of cobblers of course but it just seems that way. This might be true for a mother who's whole existence has become centred around her babies but Cathy's got so much more going on in her life. The words camel's, straw and back spring to mind.
So Neal's proved to be a twat of the first order. Hope he gets all that's coming to him. Immature little a------e.
Bevs.
x
My mom and her babies
If you tell my mother that (They say after the third baby, any others just don't seem to add to the work.) She will slap you silly. Of course she her third baby in October, her fourth the following August, and fifth & sixth the following October (4, 5 & 6 were all premies). I on the other hand gave her a break and didn't come along until 5 years later, at which time my sisters were 8 & 10, and provided lots of help.
Kind of hope that
If the family adopts anyone it will be BOTH mother and daughter. Like rest, disappointed in Neal. Maybe Cathy should talk to him. She can figure out guilt or innocence and if innocent get some legal help.
Gloria falling during their
Gloria falling during their arguement. But even so, he is guilty of abuse.
May Your Light Forever Shine
*sighs*
At least my cousin never got a skull fracture from her Ex... (Nor did their son, who jumped between her and his dad once.) Neal needs mega help - whether he's guilty of assault or not, he needs help (just not necessarily the same kind of help). Considering how helpful Neal was - where Cathy and her "rats" were concerned, I can hope he's not a "hidden" spouse beater!
Apparently, Cathy's "in milk" when she needs to be. Phoebe is probably physically old enough, so her milk could be "induced"... But, if she were to end up caring for her niece... Folks would assume the worst (unless she looks much older than her age), that she'd had the baby out of wedlock and as a teen mother.
Interesting things a happening.
Annette