Judas Horse

Chapter 3

Within three days, Jack’s decision about when to take his Maternity Support Leave was made for him, when Maggie went into labour. She waddled up and down the kitchen, stopping every ten minutes or so with her palms on the cool fake-marble worktop and her forehead on the back of her hands. Whenever this pause occurred, Penny rubbed circles into the small of Maggie’s back and both women breathed noisily as they waited in horrible anticipation for the building pain to peak and then left Maggie alone for another ten minutes. The women were like a finely tuned partnership — both knowing exactly what to do, when, and for how long.

Jack stood in the kitchen doorway with a birthing bag in one hand and the car keys in the other, waiting for the signal. After two hours, Maggie said she was ready to go to hospital.

In the delivery room, Jack knew the nurse’s chant of ‘breathe, breathe’ wasn’t for his benefit, but it was working, so he went with it. He was completely out of his comfort zone and, worse than that, had no idea what his purpose was in this room — he wanted, needed, to be in control, but he was a million miles away from that. He was annoyed with himself for being this useless. This is why expectant dads are told to stand at the head of the bed and hold the mum’s hand: it’s to keep them out of the way! he thought to himself.

Maggie, on the other hand, was being wonderful and strong. She didn’t seem to be frightened, and calmly did exactly what she was told, when she was told. As Jack watched her prepare to push out the baby’s head, his mind raced. He’d witnessed many a police officer run towards danger in the name of the Job, but he’d never seen anyone face this degree of pain, with such unfaltering bravery. Maggie had no choice, of course, he knew that, but still — the pride he felt at this moment for his amazing wife swelled in his chest and ended as tears.

Maggie caught sight of Jack’s face. ‘What the fuck are you crying for?!’ she screamed. Her scream turned into a grunt of pain, then back into a scream. Then a higher-pitched, gurgling scream joined hers and it took Jack a few seconds to realise that his baby had arrived.

The baby’s head was covered in a thin layer of white, paste-like vernix and her face was screwed up so tight that it was nothing more than a lumpy red ball. But once on Maggie’s chest, the baby stopped crying and her little face took shape. She was beautiful, Jack thought, beaming at her through his tears. Maggie was beautiful, too. The baby seemed to look around the room, her eyes rolling in their sockets as though she had no control over them, then they settled on Maggie’s face. Seconds later, Maggie’s smile and warm body making her feel safe, she fell asleep.

In the corridor of the maternity wing, Penny flicked through pictures on her mobile. After Charlie’s death, Jack had scanned every grainy old photo she owned, going right back to when Jack was little, onto her mobile so she could reminisce whenever she needed to: Charlie teaching his boy to ride a bike; Jack, aged ten, blowing out the candles on his birthday cake; Penny crying at his graduation; Jack, Maggie and Charlie, complete with paper hats and eggnog, celebrating a long-ago Christmas. Penny could feel the love in her heart as it yearned for Charlie at this moment — it was physical, like a lump. Penny was so engrossed in her reminiscing that she didn’t immediately see Jack walking towards her. Then she saw the bundle of handknitted blankets in his arms, gasped, leapt to her feet and rushed to his side. From beneath the patchwork blankets, two big puffy eyes were closed tight shut. The vernix had gone, and the baby’s skin was now a mix of perfect pink with the tiniest tinge of yellow. ‘She’s got hair!’ Penny screeched, making the baby jump and her eyes flicker. Penny toned her excitement down to a whisper. ‘Sorry, my darling. I’m just so thrilled to meet you. Oh, Jack, she’s... Oh, Jack.’

‘I’ve got to take her back in, Mum, to get properly cleaned up,’ Jack said gently. ‘Go up to the ward. We’ll be with you in a bit, then you can have a hold.’ Penny watched Jack walk back towards the delivery suite, moving so slowly and carefully, as though he was holding the most precious cargo in the world.

Thirty minutes later, Maggie was one of four new mums on B Wing of the maternity ward. Families gathered, bringing tears, laughter, balloons, cards and babygrows. The ‘two visitors per bed’ rule was blatantly flouted — but there wasn’t a nurse in the hospital brave enough to make any relatives leave. Penny sat in a high-backed chair, with a pillow under her elbows and the baby in her arms. ‘She’s so interested in what the world has to offer,’ Penny whispered. ‘All the other babies are sleeping but look at ours... it’s like she wants to know what’s next.’ Jack always knew that Penny would be unable to stop herself from comparing her grandchild with every other baby; but he had done her the disservice of assuming that her comparisons would be silly. Now he found himself nodding at her words, feeling their rightness.

‘Do you have a name?’ Penny asked.

Months earlier, Jack and Maggie had each made a list of names and then compared to see how in tune they were. Maggie had gone a bit highbrow and literary with some, such as Orson and Agatha, while Jack, in contrast, had gone old-school, favouring names like Alfie and Alice. But there were several names common to both lists. ‘Charlie’ had been on both, of course, for a boy or a girl. Then there was James, Emily, William, Hannah, Max — and unexpectedly Elsie had appeared on both lists too. When Penny asked if they’d decided, the truth was that they hadn’t — but Jack now glanced at Maggie, giving her full permission to be the one to finally choose. ‘She looks like a Hannah,’ Maggie said.

Penny looked down at the sleeping little bundle in Maggie’s arms. ‘Hello, Hannah,’ she whispered. ‘You know, your name means “grace”. You’ve graced us with your presence, Hannah. That means you make us happy simply by being here.’

Over the next week, Penny went into overdrive with the cooking, cleaning and washing, while Maggie’s sole job was to keep Hannah happy. Jack’s job was to open all of the Amazon boxes and build whatever was inside. And Mario’s job was to design and create a woodland scene on the long wall of the nursery, using stickers that Maggie and Penny had chosen. They’d decided that Hannah should appreciate nature from a very early age, a decision that had come from reminiscing about living in Totnes. They had been so incredibly lucky to have had beaches and wilderness right on their doorstep. Growing up in London would be different for Hannah, but they still wanted her to learn about nature. And they’d take her back to Totnes when she was older, so she could see where she was truly from.

Within a week of being home, Jack couldn’t remember what life had been like without his baby girl, and having three generations of Warr women under the same roof felt like the way it was meant to be. He thought about Charlie every day but, the truth of it was that if Charlie were still alive, then he and Penny would be 200 miles away in Totnes. As Jack hung a little picture of Charlie on an unobtrusive corner of the nursery wall, he smiled. ‘Keep us right, eh, Dad.’

In the master bedroom, Maggie was sitting with Hannah on a V-pillow on her lap. Both of them were asleep. There was a milk-soaked pyjama top on the floor, along with three dirty babygrows and several wet muslin cloths. Two mugs of tea had been allowed to go cold on the bedside table alongside a blackening, half-eaten banana. Maggie’s right breast was out, and there was a streak of milk on Hannah’s cheek.

The scene was a strange mixture of blissful calm and utter chaos, and Jack felt certain he would never, ever tire of being a parent.