Read Winnie of the Waterfront Online
Authors: Rosie Harris
‘You mean things can go wrong?’
Dr Richman frowned. ‘I wouldn’t put it like that. There will be some difficulties to face, though. I warned both of you right from the beginning that as Winnie’s pregnancy progresses her weight and increased size may cause problems.’
‘Yes, but you only said she wouldn’t be able to manage with just her sticks and that she’d probably have to use her chair some of the time.’
‘Quite so! In the late stages of her pregnancy, though, she may have difficulty fitting into her chair. It very much depends on how much her shape changes. You see, she won’t be taking very much exercise so her weight may increase a great deal more than is normal.’
‘What can I do to stop that happening?’
‘Nothing at all! In fact, I don’t think that you should mention it to her since there is not a lot that can be done about it. Encourage her to lead a normal life and make sure she isn’t worrying about anything.’
It was him, not Winnie, who was worrying, Sandy thought ruefully. Pleased and excited though he was at the prospect of them having a family, he couldn’t help but be apprehensive about what might happen to Winnie.
By the end of February Winnie was huge. She still continued working at the café, but Sandy refused to allow her to wheel herself to work each day.
‘I’ve told you so many times that if you lose control of your wheelchair as you are coming down Water Street you’ll end up going straight into the Mersey,’ he warned her.
Winnie knew he was right, and since she knew that it was impossible to propel herself back up Water Street at the end of the day she didn’t argue, but let him push her to and from work.
She also agreed that if she was feeling tired or
unwell
she would own up and take time off, and that she would stay at home whenever the weather was very bad.
By Easter there was no question of Winnie going to work. She could barely move around the house without getting breathless. It had also become such a tight squeeze for her to fit into her wheelchair that she only did so when she had to visit Dr Richman.
Initially he had asked to see her once a month, but early in March he had suggested that she should visit him every two weeks.
‘Remember, you must send for me if you experience any unusual symptoms, Mrs Coulson,’ he told her each time she made a visit.
At the end of April he told her she wasn’t to even try to come and see him, but that in future he would make house calls.
Sandy worried more and more about her. Some days he wished she hadn’t gone ahead with having the baby. Perhaps he should have discouraged her more firmly when she’d first mentioned the idea of starting a family, he told himself. It grieved him to see the screwed-up expression on her face as she tried to move around. Not that she ever complained. She bore it all stoically. Sometimes he wished she would openly grumble and let him share her discomfort, so that he could feel free to commiserate with her.
He had so many things on his mind. They had stopped talking about moving, but he had been putting out feelers, trying to find somewhere suitable for them. He had paid several visits to
Seacombe
and had one place definitely in mind. He only wished that Winnie was fit enough to come across and see it before he went ahead and confirmed that he would take it.
Early in June, Winnie was laid low with acute backache. Sandy could see that every movement she made caused her considerable distress, so, without asking her, he contacted Dr Richman.
Winnie was used to the doctor making house calls so she didn’t attach any importance to his visit.
Sandy was on tenterhooks when, after a few pertinent questions followed by a brief physical examination, Dr Richman insisted that she should go into hospital.
Winnie looked very put out. ‘Must I?’ she protested.
‘Right away,’ he told her crisply, in a tone that brooked no argument.
‘The baby isn’t due for weeks yet,’ she reminded him.
‘I still think it is necessary. I’ll make arrangements. An ambulance will be here in half an hour. Can you be ready by then?’
‘She’ll be ready,’ Sandy promised. He tried to hide his concern, assuring Winnie that it was merely a precautionary measure, but he knew instinctively from Dr Richman’s manner that there was far more to it than that.
Sandy went to the hospital with her and paced the corridor uneasily while she was being examined. It took almost an hour and Dr Richman looked grave as he confronted Sandy afterwards.
‘If the baby is to stand any chance of survival it is necessary for your wife to have a Caesarean right away,’ he explained tersely.
‘Does she know?’
Dr Richman nodded.
‘So what does she have to say about it?’
Dr Richman removed his glasses and began polishing them vigorously. ‘She was hoping for a normal delivery, but I’ve explained things to her and she understands that there is no choice.’
‘So she’s agreed?’ Sandy probed.
‘She has said we must do whatever is necessary to save the baby.’
‘And what about Winnie herself? How safe is it for her?’ Sandy persisted.
‘Normally the risks would be minimal, but in your wife’s case there is some slight cause for concern,’ Dr Richman admitted reluctantly.
Sandy ran his hand through his hair. ‘Have you told her that?’
‘No, but I think she is fully aware of the situation.’
‘It really is impossible for her to give birth in the normal way?’
‘Yes, it is. Furthermore, it is imperative, if we are to save her life and that of the baby, that we proceed with a Caesarean immediately.’
Sandy shrugged resignedly. He felt helpless, but reasoned that Dr Richman knew best. ‘Can I see her first?’
‘Of course!’
When he reached her bedside Sandy didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to worry her
by
repeating anything that Dr Richman had told him, yet he wanted her to know how much he loved her and that he understood how brave she was being.
Winnie had already been sedated. She was lying there looking drowsy, her stomach a huge distended mound. Sandy took her hand, his throat tight with emotion. He tried to hold back his tears as he kissed her tenderly on the brow. He felt guilty that she was doing this for him, possibly sacrificing her life to provide him with a family.
She smiled and murmured something, but because she was so drowsy her words were slurred. He made out his own name and ‘love you’ before he was firmly elbowed out of the way. Then he watched helplessly as they wheeled her through to the operating theatre.
He wanted to call after them and tell Dr Richman to save her and damn the baby, but he knew that was not what Winnie would have wanted so he bit back the words.
It was mid-afternoon before Sandy was allowed to see Winnie again. Four long hours while he fretted and paced backwards and forwards, up and down the hospital corridors. All his thoughts were with his wife, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.
His heart turned over when they finally let him back into the ward to see Winnie. She was lying propped up in bed, her thick wavy hair framing her face and fanning out over the white pillow like a black shawl.
As he bent down to kiss her brow her eyes fluttered open and he felt himself drowning in their brilliant luminosity as her gaze locked with his.
She was so beautiful, and she meant so much to him. He would have wanted to die, too, if she hadn’t survived the ordeal.
Almost reverently he kissed her on the lips. He wanted to hug her close, but she looked so fragile that he was afraid to do more than take her hands in his and squeeze them gently.
‘Hello,’ he whispered. ‘How are you?’
‘Very sore and very weak, but very happy,’ she told him softly.
‘And very brave,’ he added.
‘And very clever!’ she boasted. ‘Have you met our beautiful daughter yet?’
‘No, not yet. I was more concerned at seeing how you were.’
Winnie used a bell-pull at the side of her bed to summon a nurse. ‘Could you let my husband see the baby?’ she asked.
‘Of course. I’ll take you along to the nursery, Mr Coulson. Will you come this way.’
‘Couldn’t you bring her in here so that we can all be together,’ Winnie begged.
The nurse hesitated.
‘Please!’ Winnie pleaded, giving her a persuasive look that became a beaming smile as the nurse agreed to her request.
‘I’m sorry that I’ve put you through all this, Winnie,’ Sandy murmured contritely the moment they were alone. ‘I feel so guilty …’
She placed a finger over his lips. ‘Wait until you
see
your daughter and then tell me how you feel,’ she smiled.
The nurse returned, carrying the baby in the crook of her arm. ‘I’ll let you do the honours and introduce her to her dad,’ she said as she lowered the bundle into Winnie’s arms.
‘Come and take a peep at her then!’ Carefully, Winnie pulled back the shawl and Sandy found himself gazing down at a tiny pink-and-white oval face topped by a fuzz of dark red curls.
‘She’s beautiful!’ he exclaimed in awe. He touched the baby’s tiny pink hand and smiled as she grasped at his finger.
‘They change your life, remember,’ Winnie reminded him.
‘This one certainly will!’ He looked dazed. ‘I can’t believe that she is ours,’ he said, bemused.
‘You’ve only got to look at her to see that she is!’
‘Yes, your elfin face and my carroty hair, poor little mite!’ he teased.
‘Give her time! She’s going to be as pretty as a picture and have all the boys falling in love with her,’ Winnie told him confidently.
‘It’s a good job we’re planning to move to a better area then, isn’t it,’ Sandy grinned.
‘Yes,’ Winnie looked proudly at the baby, ‘now we really must try and find somewhere nice to live. I don’t want her growing up in the Liverpool slums, or running around with barefoot kids, even though we did when we were small.’
‘No, this little princess is going to have a bedroom of her own and live in style,’ Sandy assured Winnie.
‘We’ll look for somewhere the minute I’m out of here,’ she promised.
Sandy cleared his throat. ‘I’ve already found the ideal place,’ he said gruffly.
Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘You have?’
He nodded. ‘It’s at Seacombe, right on the riverfront. You’ll love it. It’s big enough for us to use the bottom part as a café, and there are five rooms up over that where we can live. It means we can expand our business at the same time as moving somewhere better.’
Winnie stared at him in amazement. ‘When did you find the time to arrange all this?’
‘I’ve been looking for the perfect spot ever since we first talked about moving,’ he confessed.
‘And you never breathed a word to me, not even after you found it?’
‘Well, I wanted to take you to see it before I agreed to rent it, but you weren’t fit enough. You’re going to love it, though. It has wonderful views out over the Mersey. In fact,’ he grinned wickedly, ‘you can see straight across the river to our café here in Liverpool. As soon as we move in I’m going to fix up a flag pole so that we’ll be able to signal to each other.’
‘What makes you think I’m going to have time to do anything of the sort! I’ll be too busy looking after our daughter, and I certainly won’t have time to run a café or whatever you intend to open over there.’
‘You’ll have no choice! We’ll need the money now we have an extra mouth to feed,’ he told her with mock severity.
‘Slave-driver! It sounds like it’s going to be a lot of hard work for me!’
‘Not really! In fact,’ he confessed, ‘it’s already organised and should be up and running any day now. I’ve already taken on a manageress, a cook and a couple of waitresses. All you’re going to have to do is keep an eye on them and decide what we’re going to call the place.’
Winnie pursed her lips thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling as she looked from Sandy to the baby in her arms. ‘I’d like to call this precious little bundle Peg, in memory of our own dear Peg,’ she told him. ‘So what about calling our new café
Peg’s Place
?’ she suggested with a broad smile.
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Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781446440056
Published by Arrow Books in 2005
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Copyright © Rosie Harris 2004
Rosie Harris has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
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First published in the United Kingdom in 2004
by William Heinemann
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