The Yuletide Child

‘This is the “me” generation.’ Ross shrugged cynically. ‘People have been brought up to believe they should always do what’s best for them, never mind what happens to anyone else.’

‘This is a sad, bad world,’ Henry muttered. ‘Thank God there are still a few people like Ruth in it.’

‘Ruth is such a lovely name,’ Dylan said with a yawn. ‘We love it, and we would like you to be her godmother, wouldn’t we, Ross?’

They had talked about it while Ruth was cooking lunch; she had done so much for them and they both liked her.

Pink and very touched, Ruth said shyly, ‘I’d love that. But what about your own families? Won’t they mind?’

‘I’m quite sure they won’t,’ Ross said.

For Dylan the last two days had been hectic, a helter-skelter ride which took the breath away. She was glad the birth was over and she had a healthy baby, but she knew there were still a lot of problems in her life. She had a lot to talk to Ross about, a lot of questions to ask. There was still a shadow over their future.

But at that moment her eyelids were as heavy as lead; she let them close and a moment later was fast asleep.

When she woke up the room was shadowy, only a faint pink light shining from a fringed lamp on a table by the window. The curtains were drawn but she realised night had fallen. Ross sat in an armchair beside the table, a book open on his lap. He was asleep, face flushed, his head lolling against the wing of the chair, mouth slightly open, his breathing slow and regular.

Dylan watched him passionately, her heartbeat quickening, her nipples hard and hot under her thin cotton nightie. She was taken aback to feel a dampness there too, and put a hand to her chest, eyes widening.

What on earth was that? For a second or two she was confused, then it dawned on her—the ache and swell of her breasts, the slight leakage. Wasn’t nature miraculous? As soon as she had had her baby other changes had begun in her body, so that she could feed the child.

Where was her baby? She sat up, drawing a sharp breath as she realised how stiff her muscles were; having a baby was even harder work than dancing a full performance of a ballet. She felt as if she had been working out for days. Massaging her stomach, she was gratified to find it flatter again—although it must be flabby now. As soon as she was up on her feet she must start exercising, strengthen those muscles, make sure her body returned to its old athletic shape.

Ross stirred, eyes opening slowly, then he sat up, raking back the tousled dark hair which had flopped over his temples, and looked across the room hurriedly.

‘You’re awake!’ He got up, letting the book on his lap fall to the carpet. He bent to pick it up and put it on the arm of the chair before coming over to the bed. ‘How do you feel?’

‘As if I’d run a hundred miles,’ she grimaced, then asked anxiously, ‘Where’s my baby? Is she okay?’

‘She’s not just okay, she’s a miracle,’ Ross said, smiling, and her heart quickened at the sight of that smile. Love hurt inside her, an intolerable, wrenching pain worse than any she had suffered while she gave birth. How could she bear to lose him?

She pushed the agony away, concentrating on what he was saying. ‘She’s downstairs. We didn’t want her crying and waking you up. You needed to sleep.’

Somehow she managed to speak, amazed to hear her voice sound so normal. ‘I want to see her, Ross. Please get her for me. I hardly had a chance to see her before I went to sleep.’

Soothingly he said, ‘In a min

ute. First Henry said you must have something to eat and drink, then you can feed little Ruth. He told me to call out when you woke up.’

She looked away from him, trembling. ‘What time is it?’

‘Ten o’clock. You’ve been asleep for about six hours. So has the baby. Don’t worry. We haven’t heard a peep out of her.’

Immediately Dylan stiffened, alarm in her eyes. ‘There could be something wrong!’

‘Don’t get so agitated! I told you, she’s fine—Ruth and Henry take a look at her every so often to make sure she’s okay. Now, just lie still while I call Henry.’

‘He stayed here all day?’

‘No, he had to go out on calls, but he got back half an hour ago and came up to check on you while Ruth cooked his supper. I don’t know how he keeps going. He only just managed to get here this time—the roads are atrocious now, apparently. His partner is going to do the night shift and Ruth has persuaded him to stay overnight.’

‘What about you? You must need some sleep, too.’

He looked at her through his lashes, his mouth mocking. ‘I can share your bed, can’t I?’

Her flush grew hectic, blue eyes darkening as the pupils dilated. ‘That isn’t funny!’

‘It wasn’t meant to be! We may not be able to make love for a while but there’s no reason why I shouldn’t sleep in the same bed, is there?’