The Liberation of Brigid Dunne by Patricia Scanlan

Author:Patricia Scanlan [Scanlan, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2020-03-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

“Oh God! My waters have broken, Una, and I’m getting terrible cramps,” Keelin gasped, puffing and panting her way into the kitchen, where Una was peeling spuds for the dinner. “Am I in labour? The baby’s not due for another three weeks.”

“Oh Jesus, Mary, and Holy Sweet Saint Joseph!” Una exclaimed in dismay, assisting Keelin to a chair. “I’ll call Maura and tell her to ring Dr. McCormack. Or should we drive you to the hospital? It’s a long enough journey in case anything happens on the way?” Una went to the kitchen door and yelled for her sister, who was upstairs changing beds. There had been a lot of nuns staying the previous week, but thankfully there was a lull in the big house.

“What’s going on? Why are you yelling at poor Maura?” Sister Marie-Hélène limped into the kitchen on her crutches. She was recovering from a car accident, spending the summer in the Four Winds to recuperate and write her thesis.

“Marie-Hélène, Keelin’s waters broke and we think she’s in—”

Keelin groaned and doubled over as another spasm of pain engulfed her.

“Oh lordy! What do we need? They always say hot water and towels—” Marie-Hélène looked panicked. She was the same age as Keelin; they had become good friends. “Lie down and we’ll time the contractions,” she said, helping Keelin up from the chair. “Can you make it up to the bedroom?”

“I’m scared, Marie-Hélène,” Keelin confessed.

“Nothing to be scared of, Keelin. Giving birth’s the most natural thing in the world,” the young nun said confidently. “Maura, ring Dr. McCormack and tell him Keelin’s in labour and he needs to get over here,” she instructed. Keelin felt a modicum of comfort at her friend’s authoritative instructions and the way she was taking charge.

Another contraction hit and she felt a wave of sweat break out across her forehead. If Brigid were here, she’d know what to do, and how far gone Keelin was—she’d helped to deliver babies in Africa—but it would be two hours before she got to Butlersbridge from Limerick, Keelin thought, trying not to panic.

“Dr. McCormack is out on a call. Mrs. McCormack said she’ll give him the message as soon as he gets back.” Maura hurried up the stairs after them. “Why don’t I go and get Katie Wickham? Everyone calls on Katie to come when there’s a birth or death in the village,” she suggested.

“Great idea,” approved Marie-Hélène. “Get her now, Maura.”

“Sure,” Maura agreed, clattering down the stairs at speed.

“You’ll be grand, Keelin. We better get your drawers off ya, in case the baby surprises us.” Marie-Hélène grinned. And in spite of her labour pains, Keelin laughed at the irrepressible nun.

Two hours later, after a fast and intense labour, Marie-Claire Durand shot into the world in an almighty hurry. Katie Wickham and Dr. McCormack, Una and Marie-Hélène were there, urging Keelin on, while Maura supplied the hot water and, when required, hot sweet tea.

“Now, child, here’s your daughter, and she has a fine pair of lungs on her, and she’s a grand size even if she’s early.

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