Текст книги "After Forever Ends "

Автор книги: Melodie Ramone

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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 39 страниц)

I never heard another thing about Melissa until a year later when she rang us, weeping, “Silvia! It’s Melissa,” She sounded like she’s been at the pub all night, stuffed up and drunk, “Please don’t hang up on me! I know you know! How are Nigel and his sister?”

“Her name is Natalie. Didn’t you know that?”

“Yes, I knew that! It’s so pretty! Natalie. How are they?”

“They’re healthy and happy.” I wanted to hang up so badly my hand twitched, “Why don’t you speak to Alexander?”

I held the phone out at him. He was sitting in the middle of the floor playing a toy xylophone with Nattie. “It’s her, isn’t it?” He asked. I nodded. “Nigel’s out with Oliver?” I nodded again. “Jeez, it’s three in the morning stateside!” He stood up with a great sigh and took the phone. “Melissa?”

The rest of the conversation was held in hushed tones, “You want to see us? Well, I can help you with a ticket back to Wales. No. They’re babies, Mel. No. I’m not bringing them there, no way. Because I have a job. I can’t just go jumping the pond on a moment’s notice because you called. You’re working, yeah? You can come here then. Come on! Be reasonable! A toddler and a baby on a plane for twelve hours when you can come here?” There was a pause, “You did what? Well, that wasn’t very well thought out then, was it? I’m sorry. I don’t bring you up. He’s too young, he won’t get it.” He stopped speaking, obviously listening to her, “No!” He said suddenly and angrily, “Don’t you give me that shit, Melissa! They’re babies!” He sounded so sad I wanted to go over and comfort him, “Yours and mine! You left us!” Another pause, “It’s harder than you thought? Oh aye! For me as well! Don’t tell me that. It’s a lie. It’s a lie and you know it.” A half an hour later, Alexander had had enough, “This is going nowhere. I can’t do this with you. Because it hurts, that’s why. Go to a doctor, please. Please get on medication and get your life straight. Call again when you’re sober, right? Yes, I’ll answer. Yes. Goodbye, Melissa,” He hung up the phone with his head low.

“Are you all right?” I asked from the kitchen doorway.

He shook his head and looked at his daughter, “No, not really. I pretend I am, but I’m not.” He stood like he meant to walk out of the room, but he sat down on the sofa instead, “I’ll be honest. I’ve been waiting for her to ring. She does from time to time. I check my mobile every day, wondering if I’ve missed her. I actually hope she’ll ring, you know? I hope she’ll tell me she’s well. Just then, she was wrecked. She couldn’t carry on a conversation, she just babbled. Confessed her very soul to me, she just did.”

“She wants to see you and the children?”

He ran his hand through his dark hair, “Aye, it’s the first time she’s said so, but she can’t come here to see us. She wants me to bring the children there.”

“You said no.”

“I did. I can’t do it.” He was quiet for a long time. “No woman ever touched me, you know that, yeah? All those girls, all those girlfriends, even the ones I liked. Not one touched me, but Melissa broke my heart. I hate her for all the pain she caused me. I hate her because I loved her and I know she didn’t love me. And the really mad thing is I swear if she knocked on that door right now I can’t say I wouldn’t invite her in and do it again.”

I knew he would. If she had knocked instead of phoned he would have taken her back even after all she had done to him. Alexander was world renown for holding a grudge. Very few understood he had a vast capacity for forgiveness as well.

“I loved her, Sil. I truly did. I still do in this weird, masochistic sort of way. I could have loved her forever if she’d have let me,” He seemed dazed, as if this were something he'd gone over in his head a thousand times and had never been able to sort out, “We had a family. We could have been a right and true family, but she pushed us away. If she didn’t love me, that’s fine. It hurts, but I can live with it. That’s my fucked up karma. I think of Meredith Ainsworth and what I did to her and I know I deserve it. I just can’t understand why she didn’t love the children.” He dropped his head and rested it in his hands. When he looked up, he might have been crying, but there were no tears in his eyes, “Simple of me?”

“There’s nothing simple about it.”

“It’s just a damn shame,” He shook his head, “It’s just such a damn, tragic shame.”

I said nothing else.

Years later when she was grown and on her own, Natalie’s younger daughter had a health scare. Nattie looked her mother up and phoned her to ask some questions about the family’s medical history. Melissa answered all she asked, but at the end of the conversation she requested that Natalie never call again. Her voice was, she told her, too painful a reminder of a life she’d chosen to leave behind.

“What a complete bitch!” Natalie exclaimed as she hung up. “I’m still her daughter and this is her grandchild whether she likes it or not!”

I patted my niece on the shoulder. Alexander’s words rang through my mind. I was inclined to agree with him.

It was a damn tragic shame indeed.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Perhaps it was because he never let go of his sense of adventure or his quest for merriment, but his entire life Oliver Dickinson had a special way about him. He was always happy, always smiling, rarely did a negative statement ever escape his lips. By the time Carolena was two, he was the leading area paediatrician and he knew every child and every parent within an hour of the area. The children loved him to bits as he was kind and funny. Some adults, however, didn’t trust how odd he was. And my husband was odd, too, and unapologetic about it. He had his own method of doing things and he didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought because he was an excellent doctor and an excellent human being. He knew it, as well, although he never boasted.

I loved it when I was fortunate enough to be able to watch him at work. He was a man made for children. I remember one evening I was at his office with our own little ones, helping him close for the night, when the phone rang. Even after office hours with none of his staff there, he answered it. “Oh, great green goobers! “ He fiddled with a paperclip, “Yes, bring him in straight away! No, that’s fine. You’ll sit in that hospital for days before they’ll be able to see him. I’ll wait. “

A half hour later a young woman appeared with an obviously sick little boy. The child was terrified and refused to come out from under her coat or go into the examination room. I went into the back to tell Oliver. “He won’t come, Sweetheart. You should see him, though. I got his temperature and he’s got no fever, but and he’s crying and it hurts him to make any sound, so he‘s doing it silently. It‘s pathetic! It‘s awful!”

“Aww,” Oliver made a sad face, “Poor lad!” He washed his hands and walked into the lobby, tossed his lab jacket on to the sofa, and sat on a chair. “Hello,” He said brightly, “I’m Oliver,” He was looking right at the mother, “Are you Damien?”

“No,” She answered, clearly confused.

“Oh,” He scratched his head, “Somebody called Damien was supposed to stop by my office. Is he here?” He looked about dramatically, “I hear he’s quite frightened to be with a doctor. Maybe he’s hiding then?” He opened a drawer on the colouring table, “No, he’s not in here,” He looked under the chair, “No, not here, either!” He peered inside a tissue box, and then placed a fist on his hip, “Nor here. Hem! Well, where is he then?”

Damien giggled and poked his head out from under his mother’s coat.

“Ah-ha!” Oliver clapped his hands together, “I’ve found him! Damien, I need help! Can you help me?”

Damien nodded.

“I have this problem, you see,” Oliver leaned forward so he was eye level with the boy and looked at him very seriously, “I get these bogeys in my nose,” He said quickly, “Huge ones. Real dragon scales. I try to pull them out, but sometimes I can’t tell where they are,” He held out an instrument, “Can you look and see if you can find any for me?”

Damien giggled again He stepped away from his mother and held out his hand.

Oliver placed the object in his little hand, “Just push the red button and the light will come on-like. There, that’s right!” He tilted his head up, “Just shine it up my nose and tell me if I have any.” The little boy giggled and shined it up Ollie’s nose. “Do I have any?”

“No!” Damien laughed.

“Good! I must have got them! Would you mind if I had a look to see if you have any? We’ll do bogey patrol!” Damien handed him the light, tilted his head and Ollie had a peek, “Damien,” He asked seriously, “Have you swallowed any frogs?”

Damien laughed wildly. “No!”

“No? Well, your mother told me you had a frog in your throat!” Oliver ran the light in front of the boy’s eyes.

“My throat hurts.”

“Well, it might be a frog, yeah? Even if you didn’t swallow it on purpose, sometimes they crawl in there while you’re sleeping and get stuck. Might be why your throat hurts. May I have a look?”

Damien opened his mouth wide.

“Oh, dear,” Oliver shook his head, looking into the boy’s throat, and clicked his tongue, “Definitely a frog. Maybe two. Do your ears hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Let me have a look then,” Oliver waited for the boy to turn his head, and then checked his ear, “Pesky frogs! They’ve gotten into your ears, too, Lad!”

Damien looked shocked.

“No worries,” Ollie checked the other ear, and then fingered the glands in the boy’s neck, “We have anti-frog serum we can give you. Some other doctors might tell your mother that you have a sinus and a double ear infection, but I won’t lie. It’s definitely frogs.” Damien’s mother laughed. “Let me have a quick listen to you breathe,” Oliver popped on his stethoscope and pressed it to the boy‘s chest,, “Very good, Lad!” He turned back to the mother, “We’ll give him an antibiotic,” He pulled his pad out of his lab coat pocket and began to scribble on it, “And something for pain. Clear liquids, lots of rest. He’ll be good as new in no time.”

“Thank you,” The woman took the paper from his hand.

“No worries. In the meantime, Damien,” He looked serious once more, “Take your anti-frog serum and try to sleep with your mouth closed tonight. Your mum can spray the house for frogs in the morning and you shouldn’t have any more problems.” Ollie patted his head and grinned. “Go home now! Eat your vegetables!”

That was my Oliver. He had a way of always knowing what to say to make someone feel better. He was born to be a doctor. He was born to be a dad. He’d come home from the office after a day of dealing with children from morning to afternoon and would have ours out in the garden in a flash. He’d be keeping track of Nigel, who was constantly running, have Carolena by a hand and Natalie in his other arm, walking and telling them all about the wood.

“Fawlie” Was one of Nigel’s first words. He said it as he bobbed up and down pointing at the faerie circle.

“Yes,” Alexander told him. “Faeries! That’s where they live!”

“Fawlie div!” Nigel shouted, “Dud!” He added and hit Alex hard in the face, “Dud!” He shouted and hit him again.

“Yes, Nigel, I’m your dad. Don’t hit people. It’s not nice.”

The Alexander I met at fifteen would have run away screaming if he had seen that scene coming. But the Alexander from those days was very different from the man standing before me now. Xander had become quite serious since Melissa left. He reminded us a bit too much of Edmond at times, but he had Oliver and I to take the piss out of him when he got to be too much. Once, when I was trying to have a snowball fight with him and he wasn’t being any fun at all, I managed to knock him on to the ground and shove one down the front of his blue jeans, tucking it nicely in the crotch of his pants. He retaliated by picking me up and pitching me into a drift. The sour puss. Oliver was always dumping glasses of water over Alex’s head, but the best was when Xander wouldn’t snap out of a bad mood one night and Oliver wrestled him to the floor and shoved chips up his nose.

“You bastard!” Alexander pulled them out when his brother finally let him up, “I’ll take these and make you eat them now!”

Oliver tried to escape, but Alex caught him by the his pullover and spun him around. He grabbed his brother by the head and tried to force them into his mouth, but Ollie managed to trip him and they both dropped to the floor. Alex still had Oliver’s head trapped under his arm. “Eat them! Eat the bogey flavoured chips, Oliver!” He smashed them into the side of his brother’s mouth.

“I’ll shove them up your arse!” Oliver swore through clenched lips, giggling as he struggled to escape the vice-like grip.

“Then they’ll taste even better, won’t they? Bogey-arse flavoured chips! Eat them!” Pop! He slapped his brother's cheek. Pop! Pop!

Oliver managed to pull away. Wiping his face with one hand, he lunged at Alex, who caught him around the waist and slammed him sideways on to the floor. The house shook as they began to wrestle, rolling about on the floor, punching each other and laughing like children.

It was so funny to watch those two at play. They were so nearly equal in size and strength you never knew which way the tide would sway. Very rarely did one ever tell the other that he loved him, but every slap, every kick, every sucker punch to the ribs said it louder than words.

Ollie was excellent at taking time for everyone. When he wasn’t at work healing the sick, he was spending time with Alexander, who needed his brother’s support more than he realised, or he was at his parents’ home helping them with the upkeep that was becoming too much for them in their age. But he always made sure that he would take Carolena and me on special walks, just us, up the path and over to the pond, “See that, Caro Muffin?” He showed her everything, “That is a ladybug. Not at all good to eat. And you see this? This is a mushroom, which sometimes is good to eat, but you must be careful. And that is Duncan’s cack. Never, ever eat that!” He gasped, “Oh, look! Moss! Feel it, Muffin, it’s soft! And this is a nice flat stone, good for skipping. When you’re older, we’ll skip a lot of these, right? Oh, no, Silly, no eating leaves! Mind, what I think the best thing in the world to eat is that little fist of yours, don’t you?” He would take that tiny wet little fist out of her mouth and pretend to munch on it and little Carolena would squeal with delight. Then he’d set her down and she’d do her best to run, toddling in every direction until she landed on her knees and got up to try it again.

They were a pair, those two. They loved each other with such tenderness it brought tears to my eyes at times. “I wudge yeeew, Datty,” She’d say as she squeezed his leg in her tiny little arms, “I wudge yeeew! Pit me ut!” She was feisty like me and tireless like him, a combination that could only be met with absolute love and unending patience, of which Oliver had both. If he maybe ran a little short once in a blue moon, I was able to pick up the slack.

It was at breakfast when Carolena was two and a half that Oliver told me I was pregnant.

“What?” I demanded, literally throwing a piece of toast at him. It hit him square in the chest. I sent one flying at Alex and he caught it.

“Check the calendar, Love. You were due five days ago.”

“He’s right,” Alex mumbled through a mouthful of eggs.

I accidentally dropped the next piece of toast on Nigel’s head. “Oh, so the two of you think you know my schedule better than I do?”

“Of course, Love, don’t you notice when we tend to hide?”

“Oh, shut up, Oliver! Alexander, stop your smiling or I’ll slap you!” I checked the calendar, “Well, you’re right.” I said without allowing myself to get too excited, “Bring me home a stick on your way tonight.”

“I have to go to work, Darling,” Alexander stood up, kissed all three of the children and faced me, “And I not might be back until late depending on how my meetings go. I’ll have to leave that little chore up to Oliver.”

“Get out of my house,” I warned. He pecked me on the forehead as he passed by. “And make sure you bring nappies for your daughter tonight.”

He waved over his shoulder as the door shut behind him.

“I’ve got to run, too,” Oliver leaned over Caro and she immediately puckered her pudgy lips. “Have a good day, Muffins,” He kissed Nigel, who was too involved in his cereal to respond, and Nattie, whose face was covered in gooey toast, on their heads, “But I will bring you home a stick, Silvia,” His voice lowered as he approached me, “I’m very excited.”

“I love you, Oliver.” I stood on my toes to hold him close. “I wish you could stay home.”

“I love you, too,” He caressed my face with the back of his fingers, “I wish I could stay too, but sick children, yeah?”

“Damn brats going and getting sick! Giving you a job!”

“I know. Pesky germ factories at work.” He kissed me. Oliver never left without kissing me, even on the rare occasions that we annoyed each other, “Have a brilliant day, Love.”

“You, too, Sweetheart.”

He winked and went out the door in a flash.

When he came through the door again that night, he handed me a pregnancy test, “Here, Love, go pee on this.”

We trampled into the bathroom together. He was right on my heels. He closed the door behind us and leaned against it, staring at me as I tore open the plastic. “I can pee without your watching me,” I told him as I hauled up my skirt and lowered my knickers.

“I’ve seen you pee a thousand times,” He replied, still staring. “You never got stage fright before. Why are you hovering?”

“Shush. You’re going to make me pee all over myself.”

“Like that’s anything new.”

I laughed, “Right then, it’s done!” I set the test on the counter. We watched the dials darken. A plus sign was almost immediate.

I screamed with shock and joy. Oliver and I threw our arms around each other, jumping about in circles. “A baby! A baby!” We laughed and kissed, “A baby!”

“Oh, Sil! We’re gonna have another! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

We burst back into the front room to tell the children, who were too little to have cared, and found Alexander lying on the floor being pummelled with tiny little fists.

“Let me guess,” He grinned. An elbow glanced his jaw, “It’s a baby?”

It was another effortless pregnancy, with the exception that my nose bled constantly and I woke up with horrid cramps in my legs that brought me near tears. Most of the time, though, I didn’t even remember I was pregnant since I was so busy chasing the three wee Dickinson’s about the wood. They kept me occupied, to say the least. I was more thankful than ever for Duncan, who stood guard with all of them and would head them off if they tried to leave the lawn, barking and yelping so that I would see and tell them to come back where it was safe. He’d do the same if a fight broke out. If ever I didn’t react quickly enough, he’d grab one by the seat of their trousers and pull until they gave up, cried, or, in Natalie’s case, fell on top of him. God bless our Duncan. He was assistant nanny and head referee at all times.

My water gave way while I was, of all places, standing in the middle of the waiting room of Oliver’s office. There were children crawling the walls in there, including my own, and suddenly my socks were soaked.

“Oh, shite!” I said very loudly. About half the mothers looked at me, aghast. “Sorry,” I told them, “Plug your ears and grab a mop!”

“Oh, my goodness!” One woman cried, pointing at the dark spot where I was standing, “You’re in labour!”

“Aye, I think so,” I said casually as I could, “Nigel! Get off that table right now! You’ll tumble off and break your head!”

When Oliver was told what had happened, he was ready to send them all packing and take me to hospital, but I told him no. “I’m not even having contractions yet, Sweetheart. Go and get as many appointments as you can in and I’ll ring. Can I leave the children here, though?” I asked, “I know your staff has enough to do, but your mum will come and I’m very wet. I don’t think in an hour I’ll be up to looking after them.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course! Are you going straight over then?” Oliver was standing in the waiting room with me, his hands on my belly.

“To hospital? I think I should, don’t you?” I asked. He nodded, “Can you go home and get me a bag before you head over?” I asked, realising all the things I hadn’t done yet, “And I haven’t even packed a bag for the baby yet…oh, damn,” I felt a cramp sweep through me.

“I’ll reschedule our appointment, Doctor,” Said a blonde woman with two blonde daughters. She had stood up when I’d grabbed my middle, “What you’ve got going on is much more important than having a wart removed!”

“We’ll reschedule, too,” Said another and about three more followed.

“Doctor,” A woman holding her baby sounded near panic, “My Macsen is so sick!”

“Oh, he’ll see your Macsen,” I told her, “Don’t fret, Ma’am. I’m not in any danger of having the baby right here right now,” I turned back to Oliver, “Take care of little Macsen for her, Sweetheart. And of our three little muffins,” I never differentiated Nigel and Natalie as not being my own children from Carolena, “Get the bags and come soon as you can.”

“I really don’t want you to drive yourself, Sil.” He said seriously.

“I can make it, it’s not far.”

“No, let me ring Mum. She can bring you.”

“No way!” I held up my hand, “You know I can’t handle her when she dotes.”

“Alex then.” He was looking at my belly.

“He’s at work.”

“I’ll take her,” The blonde woman interrupted with a smile, “I’d be happy to.”

“Oh, you don’t need to!” I protested.

Oliver clapped his hands, “The wart comes off for free if you do that, Missus Howland!”

She chuckled at his enthusiasm as she gathered up her girls.

Oliver nodded. That amazing, insane smile that I loved so much began taking up most his face. His eyes were ablaze, “I’ll be there just as soon as I can, Love. Don’t you dare go having our baby without me!” He kissed me with more passion than was acceptable for standing the middle of his waiting room in front of clients, “Ring me when you settle in.”

“First thing!” I left the office to the best wishes of a very excited crowd.

Missus Howland saw me to the hospital. “Your husband is the nicest man,” She told me on the way. “All the children love him. My son wants to invite him to his birthday party!”

“He has a way with little ones,” I agreed, breathing through a contraction as I clung to the seat. “I’m sure he’d come if you asked him.”

“Well, you’re very lucky to have him, Missus Dickinson,” She pulled up to the hospital. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“No, no. No thank you,” I opened the door, “They’ll just pop me into a wheelchair and see me on my way. But thank you for everything!”

“Oh, my pleasure! Good luck!”

I nodded, “Thanks again! Cheers!” I closed the door, and waddled up into the hospital. “Hello!” I said brightly to the woman behind the desk, “I'm here to have a baby!”

I had just settled into the first room when Alexander came bursting in, huffing for breath, “Bloody…” He leaned against the wall with one arm and held his side with the other, “…car died just at the end…of…the road… I think I might…be out of petrol…”

“Do you need a bed yourself, Alexander?”

He gasped out a laugh, “You seem OK. I could have… walked instead…” He dropped two bags on the floor, “I…got some stuff from the cabin…Oliver phoned me…I was at lunch…”

“Do you need to go back to work?”

He shook his head and waved his hand at me. “I told them…to reschedule my calls…I left the kids off at mum’s…” Alexander fell into a chair, “Bloody hell! I’m getting old!”

We sat for about an hour until Oliver arrived, still wearing his office jacket. I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. We watched a few television shows, East Enders being one and I don’t know why because we never watched that show. My mood was steadily heading southward and I found myself rolling from side to side to ease the pressure as the cramps grew worse. Finally, I chucked a Kleenex box at the television, “Shut that woman up!” I demanded, “And, Oliver, if you say one more damned thing to make me laugh I swear I'll kill you!”

“We’re getting close,” He said knowingly. He nodded at his brother to support his statement, “Mind, last time if I told her I was excited one more time she was going to bite my nose off.”

“Shut up!” I snapped.

“Do you want me to check your cervix, Love?” He asked.

Alexander laughed. I did my best to slap him, but another contraction crushed me and caused me to fall short.

Oliver called a nurse, who did just that and checked my cervix, “Oh, you’ve made great progress!” She proclaimed, “Congratulations! You’re ready to go down to delivery!”

“Can I get real drugs this time?”

“Of course, Dear,” She unlocked the bed and whirled me around, “We have plenty!”

I really liked that woman.

The epidural was not pleasant going in. “You said it’s going to cramp a little?” I asked the nurse who was helping to steady me as I sat on the edge of the gurney. My arms were on her shoulders, my hands balled into tiny fists. I honestly wanted to strangle anyone I could reach, so I kept them tightly closed. This did not keep me from having the urge to pound them against her, even as innocent and kind as she was being, “This is bloody hell!”

“Just relax, Ma’am. It’s in. It takes about ten minutes to get to its full effect. You’ll feel much better then.” She patted my arm, “There, there, Love. Lie back. That's it…”

I lay on that bed and watched the clock for ten minutes, counting the seconds. But she was right. After eight minutes passed, I was relaxed and nearly pain free. “This is like heaven,” I told Oliver, “Can you do this for me at home?”

He laughed, “I’m afraid not. I’m sure I’d paralyse you if I gave you an epidural.”

“Well, how about just the Demerol then? Little injections here and there?”

He laughed again and shook his head.

A little while later the doctor came in. He lifted up the blanket and violated me in an effort to check my progress, then looked at me and smiled, “You’re there! It’s time to start pushing, Silvia. Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes,” I told him. I wiggled to the foot of the bed.

I could feel every contraction, but it did not hurt. I pushed with all my might for about fifteen minutes and only felt a little tired. “Push! Push!” Said the doctor.

“Come on, Sil!” Oliver was hopping up and down, “I can see the head! I can see it!”

“Really?” I honestly tried to sit up and look. Nobody seemed to notice.

“That’s it, Silvia, one more good push!” The doctor coached.

“Oh, yes, Love! I can see the head!” Oliver repeated, “Push!”

I was watching my husband as I did what he said. He looked exactly like that boy at Bennington, his hair a little too long and tousled, his eyes blazing with excitement, in a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, black trousers and a tie so loose it was almost sideways around his neck. He looked just like he’d looked the day I’d met him, just like he did when he kissed me by the lake. A thousand memories washed over me all at once, all of them were of him.

“I love you, Oliver.” I told him truly.

“I love you, too, Sil!” He kissed my temple and put his hand over mine, “Push, Love!”

I took a deep breath and drew my legs up. I pressed my chin to my chest and I pushed with all my might. I did it for Oliver. I was going to give that boy I had loved so much for so many years what he wanted more than anything in the world; another child.

In an instant the room filled with the screaming of a brand new baby.

Oliver kissed me on the mouth, “You did so good!”

“What did we have? Chocolate or cherries?” I was trying to sit up to see, but the nurses had me blocked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“It’s a boy,” The doctor grinned at us as he weighed our son, “And a nice healthy, big one, too!”

The nurse kneaded my tummy as if it were dough to help me expel the placenta. Once I had, the doctor handed me our son. He was pale and smooth, whining and shaking slightly. He seemed so tiny to me compared to how I had felt when they’d handed me Caro, even though he was considerably larger than she had been. His little hand popped up out of the blanket and clasped my finger, he rubbed his tiny toes against my stomach as he squirmed. “Oh, my, this one has a grip!”

“He’s not so apish,” Oliver said quietly, stroking our son’s spine.

“No, but he’s bloody beautiful! Look at him! He’s so handsome!”

“He looks a bit like Pierce Brosnan.”

I laughed, “No, I think he looks a bit like your father!”

“Oh, shut your noise, you! Let’s stay with Pierce Brosnan!”

“OK,” I giggled. “He wants his bottle shaken, not stirred.”

“Oh, yes, he does!” Oliver ran his thumb over his son’s bald little head, “Look at the cone on this one!” He took our son from my arms and laid him on my lap. He pulled back the blanket and began to examine him, “Oh, he’s put together good! You’re an excellent baker, Mummy,” He checked his hands and feet for reflexes, bent his little arms and legs, “He’s hung like a Dickinson, too!”

I burst out laughing. Oliver swaddled our child and held him close, breathing the scent of him in. “Oh, my son! I have a son! I get to name you, yeah? Your mum said if you were a boy I could! And you are a boy, so I get to!”

“Do you have a name picked?” The nurse asked.

“Oh, let’s not call him Pierce!” I begged dramatically.

“Are you sure, Love? It’s Scottish and he looks just like him! Plus, it’s Merlyn’s name. We could call him after Merlyn.”

“I know it’s Scottish, but I’m sure. Plus, Lance might be upset if we called him after Merlyn. And Pierce is a verb, too. I don’t want to always be calling him a verb.”

“No Pierce Lancelot?”

I knew he was joking, but still exclaimed, “Oh, God! No!”

“All right then! It’s a good Welsh name for this one! And a noun, too! Gryffin!” Oliver said proudly. “Our son will be called Gryffin Alexander!”

“That’s a right manly name,” I told the baby, “We couldn’t have brought a son into the world and given you a sissy name, could we?”

“No, I’d not do that!” Oliver handed our baby back to me and sat on the side of the bed, grinning, “No son of mine would be called something pansy like Patsy! Patsy Dickinson! That’d be shameful!”