Queenie by Kimberley Chambers

Author:Kimberley Chambers [Chambers, Kimberley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008144821
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-01-22T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Nine Months Later

Autumn 1956

I knew something was wrong even before the doctor was sent for. Call it sisterly instinct or call me a witch, but I just knew.

Viv was in excruciating pain, but all she kept rambling on about was she couldn’t have Dr Andrews looking up her crotch.

I was in need of a break, desperate for a wee and a fag, so when the doctor arrived, I excused myself for a few minutes.

Bill Harris was pacing up and down in the hallway. ‘How is she? What’s happening?’

‘The baby’s breech, hence the doctor being called. Viv’s a fighter. She’ll be fine,’ I told him.

I went to the toilet. I’d been holding it that long, I sounded like a horse peeing. I then walked out into the garden and sparked up a cigarette. It’d been hours since I’d had one and the nicotine made me feel lightheaded.

I leaned against the fence and even though I’m not overly religious, I held Mrs O’Leary’s rosary beads in my hand and prayed for Viv and that baby. I was so angry when Viv got back together with Bill last New Year and even more livid when she got up the duff for real soon afterwards. After her pregnancy scare, Viv had obviously done it to trap Bill, but now I didn’t care about any of that. I just wanted my sister and her baby to be OK.

Bill walked into the garden and handed me a brandy. ‘You look shattered, Queenie. Drink that, it’ll calm your nerves.’

‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ I said. I was shattered. Fourteen long bloody hours Viv had been in labour for, but I was far too proud to go back into the room smelling like a lush in front of Dr Andrews and the midwives.

‘Shall I make you a cup of Rosy?’ asked Bill.

‘Nah. I’d better get back up there,’ I said. I’d warmed to Bill a bit. He did the right thing and married Viv in a registry office in March before she properly showed. He’d also treated her exceptionally well during her pregnancy, rented them a nice house about a ten-minute walk from mine, and was very excited about becoming a father. Viv didn’t care what sex the child was, but like myself, Bill craved a boy. He wanted to name the child Lenny after his beloved grandfather who’d recently died. His grandfather had by all accounts raised Bill.

‘Oh, Jesus, Queen. What’s happening?’ Bill asked. The scream was shrill, awful in fact.

I ran up the stairs. After all those hours holding Vivvy’s hand with her fingernails digging into mine, I’d missed the actual birth.

The child lay motionless as the umbilical cord was tied then cut. I could see it was a boy, a big boy, and he looked just perfect, but he wasn’t making a sound. I silently prayed once again.

My heart was beating rapidly as Dr Andrews took charge. A handsome grey-haired man in his late forties, the whole of Whitechapel trusted Dr Andrews. He had helped

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