The Painting by F Wallace

Author:F Wallace [Wallace, F]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-12-13T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

In the summer of 1962 I put down the phone after a long discussion with Jerzy, cancelled two readings and packed for a journey to Dorset. Maria’s third, troubled pregnancy was well underway, and he was unhappy at leaving her alone while he crossed the country to buy stock. I was not certain how my presence would help, but it was a request I couldn’t refuse.

I arrived at the farm three days later. Maria was thinner than I remembered, easily tired, her moods more uncertain. I gathered from a brief conversation before Jerzy departed that she had been bleeding for more than three months but was unreceptive to the suggestion that she should spend most of each day in bed.

Just how unwell she was I soon realised when I found she would fall asleep within minutes of sitting down, whatever the time of day. Once breakfast was over I began to encourage her to rest; when her eyes closed I would cover her with a blanket and leave her there until the afternoon. I did all the cooking and housework, prompting ill-concealed laughter from the hands when they saw me hang washing on the line or sweep the floors. They laughed less when I surveyed the work for which they expected payment, neither of them having been bright enough to realise that if my brother had grown up on a farm then so had I. But after the first few awkward encounters life settled back into an easy routine.

I was hosing down after the morning milking when I heard Maria’s scream. I ran to the kitchen, found her on her knees, clinging to a chair. As I helped her up I could see the dark stain spreading over the back of her skirt.

‘It’s too soon,’ she said to me as I helped her to her feet. ‘Stefan, it’s too soon.’

‘Don’t jump to conclusions.’

She rolled her eyes, castigating me wordlessly for being male and stupid into the bargain. The room was filled with the scent of baking; I breathed its warm sweetness as I supported her. Its ordinariness settled my rush of anxiety to a manageable level. Halfway up the stairs the pain came again, and it was easier for me to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way than guide her wayward steps.

She grasped my arm as I laid her on the bed. ‘Don’t leave me!’

‘Maria, I have to send someone for the doctor.’

‘All right—but don’t be long, please. I can’t bear it on my own, I can’t bear it…’

‘I’ll be a few minutes.’ I pulled the covers over her.

When I returned she reached out to me as I came through the door. Her fear was tangible, like an animal that paced the room as I watched, helpless. I sat with her while we waited for the doctor to arrive, and surreptitiously timed the contractions at just under four minutes apart. Knowing little enough about labour I recognised that this was not going to be a false alarm.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.