"There's nothing to do, Belinda. The baby's getting ready to be born."
"It wasn't like this before!" She grabbed my wrist and pulled me down with such strength, I was astonished. Then she whispered, "I'm being punished for what I've done. That witch cursed me. Help me!"
"Stop it," I told her. "Be a grown-up for a change." I tore her grip from my wrist, but she clung to my dress. I had to pry her fingers away.
"Stop acting like an idiot. I'll get you some water and some cold towels for your face."
"Don't leave me! I don't want to be alone like I was the last time. I'm afraid."
"You're being absolutely ridiculous," I said and left the room, closing the door to shut off her cries of agony.
For a moment I stood there in the hallway trying to decide what I wanted more, Nelson's baby to be born healthy and well, or Nelson's baby to die just like Belinda's first child had.
I covered my face in my hands and shook my head. Daddy's dying words echoed. "Look after Belinda, take care of Belinda:"
"Belinda, Belinda, Belinda!" I screamed in the dark confines of my own mind. "What about me, Daddy? What about what I feel, what I suffer?"
I took a deep breath, gathered my wits and went downstairs to find Samuel rushing out of the house. "Isabella's back. I'm going to get her," he said.
"Good."
I took my time returning to Belinda's room. The fact is I left her screaming and squirming in agony by herself for nearly a half hour. I heard her throw something against the wall. I heard a thump and then I returned to her room.
When I opened the door, she was giving birth, her eyes so wide I thought her head would tear apart.
"Why did you leave me? Help me!"
For the first time in my life, I felt nailed to the floor, unable to do anything, mesmerized, rendered paralyzed by the sight before me. I could see the child's head! Belinda screamed and reached down like some wild animal trying to ease the fetus from its womb.
I heard the sound of footsteps on the stairway and turned to see Thelma hurrying up, Effie right behind her.
"What's happening, Mrs. Logan?"
I just nodded at Belinda.
"Oh dear, she's having it!" Thelma cried and rushed to the bed.
In the end it was Thelma and not the midwife who delivered Belinda's child.
A girl.
Ironically, although she wasn't mine, she was the daughter Samuel had wanted.
Belinda had no interest in her own baby after the birth. She didn't offer a single suggestion for a name. In the end it was Samuel who had always wanted a girl to name after his mother, Haille, who named Belinda's child.
The night Haille was born, I sat in my den and called Nelson at home. His maid answered the phone and then he came on, his voice subdued.
"She had a girl," I said. "We're calling her Haille after Samuel's mother."
"The baby is all right?"
"As far as we can see, yes," I said.
"And Belinda?"
"She's not all right. She'll never be all right," I reminded him.
"Do you need anything?" he asked, his voice testy, reluctant.