An Unexpected Bonus. Caroline Anderson

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another one.

      ‘Want to weigh him?’ Ed asked.

      ‘Not yet. I want to clear up a little first and then get Julie upstairs. You feeling strong, Tim?’ she asked, bagging up the rest of the clinical waste and popping a pad between Julie’s legs.

      He grinned and scooped his wife up in his arms, carrying her up to their bedroom with the others trailing behind. ‘Fancy having him in the kitchen,’ Tim said affectionately as he set her down. ‘You spend your life at that damn table—I might have known you’d have the baby on it!’

      ‘It’ll be something to tell the grandchildren when they come over for Sunday lunch,’ Julie said with a chuckle.

      ‘Hmm. Eating off the same table, I have no doubt.’ Jo laughed. ‘Right, we need to undress you and freshen you up, feed the baby, and then after your bath I think you’ll need a rest—I should think you’re exhausted after such a hard labour,’ she said with a smile.

      ‘Oh, yes—all of about an hour from the first twinge.’

      ‘You should have rung me on the mobile,’ Tim scolded.

      ‘I did—you left it switched off,’ Julie pointed out.

      ‘Now, now, children, don’t fight,’ Jo said. She sent Tim off to clear up the devastation in the kitchen and make everyone a cup of tea while she helped Julie out of her clothes and into a dressing-gown.

      Once Julie was undressed she was able to feed the baby, and Jo felt the usual surge of satisfaction as she watched the little baby suckle from his mother. He was the third of their children that she’d delivered or monitored in pregnancy, and it was gratifying to have been involved in the arrival of the whole family.

      She looked up at Ed, wondering what he was making of all of this, and surprised a look of sadness and longing on his face again. How strange. He was so good with children—had he lost one? Was that it?

      He looked up and caught her eye. His expression became immediately neutral, as if he’d carefully schooled his face to remove the traces of emotion.

      ‘Teatime,’ Tim said cheerfully, pushing the door open with his foot and carrying in a tray.

      Ed stood up. ‘Not for me, thanks. Things seem fine. I think I’ll go for a wander—have a look round outside. I’m still feeling a bit green after the white-knuckle ride—Jo doesn’t exactly hang about. I’ll be back in a while.’

      His smile was a little strained. Jo sipped her tea and wondered what had put that look on his face and made him want to run away—because that was what he was doing, she was sure. She didn’t believe he was still feeling queasy for a moment.

      The baby dozed off, and Julie put her cup down and smiled wearily at Jo. ‘I could murder that bath now.’

      ‘Good idea. I’ll run it, you stay there.’

      It wasn’t too hot because of the baby, but she made it nice and deep because there was nothing like a good wallow after delivery. Then she helped Julie into the bath, before unwrapping the baby that Tim was holding and lowering him carefully into the water between Julie’s knees.

      He woke up a little, blinking in the light and gazing up with those wonderful blue eyes of the newborn, and Julie helped her wash his soft, delicate skin with careful hands.

      ‘He seems so tiny—you forget,’ Julie said, her voice hushed and full of awe, and Jo looked at him and remembered Laura.

      ‘You’re right—you do forget. I can’t believe Laura was ever this small.’

      ‘No. She certainly doesn’t look it now. She’s so tall, isn’t she? How old is she?’

      ‘Twelve. She takes after me and my mother—we’re both quite tall.’

      Jo scooped the baby out of the water and wrapped him in a towel off the radiator, then sprinkled a few drops of lavender and tea-tree oil into the bath and topped up the hot water. Julie sank down for a good wallow and sighed with ecstasy.

      ‘I can’t believe she’s twelve,’ she said after a moment, sounding stunned. ‘Almost a teenager. I can remember when she was born. I don’t know how you cope alone.’

      ‘I’ve got Mum. I couldn’t work and look after her without my mother’s help.’

      Julie laughed. ‘No, mums are wonderful. I’d be lost without mine during lambing and harvesting.’

      Jo took the baby across the landing to the bedroom, leaving the doors open, and took the little spring balance out of the box Tim had brought upstairs. She hooked the nylon sling underneath it, popped the baby naked into the sling and held up the balance.

      ‘Three point seven kilos—eight pounds three ounces,’ she told the mother. ‘How does that compare?’

      ‘Heavier than Lucy, about the same as Robert.’

      ‘What are you calling this one? Does he have a name?’

      Tim came upstairs again and into the room. ‘Michael, we’d thought.’

      ‘Or Anna,’ Julie said from the depths of her bath. ‘I think Michael’s more appropriate. I could kill another cup of tea.’

      Tim went through to the bathroom, mug in hand. ‘How did I guess?’ he said, a smile in his voice, and for the millionth time Jo wondered what it would have been like to have a father for her daughter, a man who loved and cherished her and was committed to her, instead of—

      She cut off the train of thought and concentrated on the baby. He was gorgeous, a lovely sturdy little chap with everything going for him. She put a nappy on him before he could catch her out, popped him into a vest and sleepsuit and tucked him up in the crib that was standing ready in the corner.

      Then she helped Julie out of the bath, and while Tim helped her into her nightclothes and down to the warm kitchen Jo went down ahead of them and tidied up her bag, settled herself at the cleaned-up table and wrote up her notes while they sat by the Aga and chatted about the delivery.

      Jo lifted her head as Ed came back in, and Tim grinned at him.

      ‘You must have heard the kettle boil. Fancy a cuppa now?’

      Ed smiled, and the strain seemed to have left his face. Thanks. Don’t mind if I do. Everything all right?’

      ‘Yup. No problems.’ Jo shut the notes, handed the file back to Julie and slipped her pen back into her pocket, before washing her hands again. ‘Baby’s upstairs in the bedroom if you want to check his heart now he’s quiet.’

      ‘Sure. Thanks.’

      He came down a few minutes later, the baby in his arms, and handed him to Julie. ‘He was chewing his fists and grizzling—I reckon you’re going to have your work cut out feeding him. He’s going to be a real trencherman.’

      ‘Just like his father, then,’ Julie said affectionately.

      The couple exchanged a loving glance, and Jo looked away, staring down into her mug and wondering if Ed was all right now. He

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