A Birth

It was in the middle of the night that Margaret told her husband that her expected baby was on the way. Gordon dressed quickly, preparing to go for Mrs. Burnside, the midwife, and for the doctor.
"Take Michael with you," she urged. "I won't be able to help him if he wakes up and needs to go to the lav."
"Come on Michael," Gordon said, shaking his infant son awake.
"Why, Dad?" asked the resisting child, who was trying to turn over and go back to sleep.
"We've got to go for Dr. Ruxton. Come on, it'll be a good adventure. It's all dark outside."
He put Michael's jersey on over his night-shirt and tucked that into his short trousers. He took their winter coats from the hooks in the front passage and, wrapped up warm, they stepped out into the cold, dark night.
It was about half a mile to the doctor's and they knocked-up Mrs. Burnside on the way. "I'll go to there now," she told Gordon, peering down at him from her bedroom window. "Don't worry, I'll look after her. You go and try to fetch the doctor."
All of the lights were on in the doctor's house. Although he was worried for his wife, he noticed a car was parked not far away, with two people in it, sitting very close together. He couldn't see who, even as he walked past, carrying Michael to the doctor's front door.
As he knocked on the door, Gordon heard the car door slam and the car drove off. Almost immediately, Isabelle, the doctor's wife, was standing beside them.
Gordon just had time to say, "Hello Mrs. Ruxton," before the front door opened and the doctor appeared in the entrance. He completely ignored Gordon and Michael. His face was contorted with rage as he dragged his wife into the hall.
Gordon looked on stunned as he watched the doctor grab his wife by the throat and start snarling at her.
"You bitch!" he almost screamed. "You've been with him again haven't you? Don't you know what time it is? You're just a whore! You're a prostitute. Who was it this time? That bloody Bobby Edmondson?"
He still had her by the throat with one hand and now Gordon saw that he had a knife in the other. "Hell!" he thought, "doctors don't behave like this. What is going on?" Isabelle couldn't speak, Buck's grasp was so tight. Her eyes were bulging. She was struggling hard and managed to break free. She ran up the stairs, her husband shouting and swearing at her as she went.
Watching her go, the doctor looked at Gordon, almost as if he'd just noticed he was there for the first time. He seemed to make tremendous effort to pull himself together, calming down as he greeted Gordon.
"So sorry, Mr. Watson," he murmured. "Just a little something between a man and his wife. Why are you here?"
Gordon explained and the caring professional, who Gordon was familiar with, made all the right kind of reassuring noises.
"You go on home. I will be with you in a few minutes. I will take care of everything. Hello, Michael! You are out late."
Michael turned his head away and buried his face in his father's neck.
Gordon wondered if it was safe for him to leave Mrs. Ruxton with what had seemed to be a madman only a minute or two ago. But he was more worried about his own wife to think of the doctor's for long. "All right," he replied, coming to a decision. "We'll be off back home then. My wife is having a lot of pain. You will be coming?"
"Of course Mr. Watson. Pain is usual. Don't worry. She will be fine. I will be there within minutes. I have never lost a baby yet in Lancaster."
Gordon carried Michael back home. Mrs. Burnside was already upstairs with Margaret. The big kettle was boiling on the open fire. The lid was lifting and water was spilling out and making lots of steam when it landed on the coals. Gordon placed Michael in the big armchair next to the fire. He lifted the kettle and put it onto the bricked hearth, using a dampened cloth round the hot handle. Then he went upstairs to his wife.
"You stay there, our Michael. I'll be back in a minute."
Michael felt upset. He sat in the chair crying. His mother was screaming upstairs. He'd just seen nice Doctor Ruxton being nasty to Mrs Ruxton. He liked her a lot. At Christmas, he'd been to their house. They had a lovely big Christmas tree .
"The biggest in the whole world," little Billy Ruxton had said to Michael. Billy was the same age as Michael. Michael liked him too. Before they went home, Billy's mother had given all of the children, who had been invited, lots to eat and a present to be opened on Christmas day. It was a good present ­ six packets of all different sweets.
There was a knock on the front door. Dad came down the stairs, went along the front passage and opened it for Dr. Ruxton. The doctor went up on his own. Gordon returned to Michael who had his hands over his ears and was sobbing. He was trying to stop hearing his mam's cries.
Gordon sat him on his knee and hugged him and rocked him, until he calmed down a bit.
"Dad, is Dr. Ruxton, hurting Mam?"
"No, of course not. He's helping her. Just like he helped you when you were ill. You know Dr. Ruxton, he wouldn't hurt a flea."
Until half an hour ago, Michael would have agreed, remembering the times he'd been to see the doctor in his surgery, in Dalton Square. The Doctor had three kids of his own and he was good with all children. He used to warm his hands before he examined you. He was very gentle with children. There would be a broad smile on the popular Parsee doctor's dark face when he'd finished.
"The best cure for this young man is a bottle of pop Mrs Watson was his usual verdict. "Don't you agree?"
Pretty Mrs Watson agreed.
Although he was tired, Michael did not fall asleep. He was watching and listening to everything that was going on. He knew that it was something important and to do with having a new brother or sister. But why his mother was screaming, something he'd never heard before, he could not understand. He wanted to go and see her but his Dad wouldn't let him.
The door which led to the cellar steps was set in the wall on one side of the living-room. Gordon took the coal bucket and went down into the cellar for more coal to put on the fire. At least, they were warm and cosy and there was quite a good light from the new gas-mantle over the mantelpiece.
He tried reading to Michael. But Mike could not settle. No question of falling asleep even though it got to four o'clock before his mother's shrieking stopped. The bedroom door opened and Michael heard a baby cry. The midwife told Gordon that he could go up and see his wife.
She sat with Michael and told him, "The stork has brought you a lovely little sister. Aren't you a lucky, big boy?"
Michael wasn't so sure about that. All he knew was that his mother had stopped screaming and he felt a bit better.
Dr. Ruxton popped his head round the living-room door and smiled at Michael, "Well young man, you've had quite a night. Mrs. Burnside can take you to see your new baby sister now. Then you can go off to Dreamland. Bye now!"
Michael turned away and buried his head in a cushion. He didn't like Dr. Ruxton anymore. Mrs. Burnside took him up to his new little sister, a tiny scrap, with a wizened face, all wrapped up in white linen and snuggled up to his mam. His mother looked tired and weary but she had a nice smile on her face.
"Come along Michael, have a good look at your sister. We're going to call her Gwyn." He gave his mother a kiss. Mrs. Burnside gave him a hug and told him, "You're a good lad, Michael."
His Dad took him back into his own bedroom and tucked him into bed. He didn't need the usual story because he went straight off to sleep.

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• On Site link: Read more about Buck Ruxton's house in Dalton Square
• The New Baby painting by Tom Dodson. Reproduced with permission courtesy of Studio Arts, Lancaster