Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 558 by Angharad

I stopped the car and went to the parking meter, I bought two hours, that should be enough, I thought. Then I struggled with two littlies and the shopping.

The only post had been a large envelope from Trish’s new school detailing everything imaginable, and some things not easily imagined. However, it included the uniform requirements, so we went to the shops it recommended.

She was in her element in her kilt, because that’s what the tartan skirt was essentially, and she looked so innocent. I bought her blouses, two skirts, two cardis and a blazer. Then there was gym kit, official knickers, socks and shoes. She had to have a raincoat of particular colour and style–the horrid dark green that seemed to be in everything. I’ll bet they even had recommended wellies, it was as bad as I imagined the army to be, and they provided everything unless you were an officer.

I won’t tell you how much I spent–but it would have nearly paid for the first term and bear in mind, she would outgrow half of this in a few months. So, if she doesn’t like it, the school I mean, I shall strangle her and bake her in a pie.

I had the girls wait at the shop while I made two journeys to the car to carry it all and lock it in the boot. After which we wandered more generally into town. We only had about an hour before everything closed, so I bought a couple of items for Mima’s wardrobe, new vests and pants, and some new pyjamas for both girls.

With just twenty minutes to go before everything shut, I took them into Argos the catalogue shop and while they looked at things in the cabinets, I ordered and paid for a girls’ makeup set for each of them. They weren’t too expensive, in fact, compared to the stuff I used, it was very good value. I collected them when the ticket number was called and we walked back to the car.

“What’s in the boxes, Mummy?”

“Nothing for you, why?”

“I just wondered, because there are two of them.”

“So, you have two shoes, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“They’s shoes,” squeaked Mima.

“If they are they’re different to the box my new ones are in.”

They couldn’t see what was in the boxes, the bits that stuck up beyond the edges of the carrier bag, and I wasn’t going to tell them. These would be useful for one of those days when they had nothing else to do and the dolls had lost their attraction.

Back at home and Trish’s wardrobe bursting under the mass of school clothes, I shouted to Stella, as Trish was modelling her new uniform. I wanted her to see our little schoolgirl. It seemed very quiet, maybe she’d gone out?

I knocked on her door, and entered. She was lying on the bed. I spoke to her, apologising if I woken her. She didn’t answer, she just lay very still. I switched on the light and rushed over to her.

She was unconscious, and lying in a pool of blood. For a moment I was shocked and stood looking at her. The blood was coming from below, she was miscarrying. I checked her pulse and it was present but weak and rapid.

I told the girls to stay in their room and ran for the phone. After calling the ambulance, I went down and left the front door on the latch, so they could come straight in.

Then I dashed into Stella and tried to clean her up a little. I thought I could see a little foot, but I felt so sickened by it all, that I couldn’t see for tears. We’d been out having fun and she was trying to cope with this–I’d never forgive myself if she or the baby died, although I had grave misgivings about the future of either of them, the way things looked.

The ambulance arrived with bells and lights, and it didn’t take the crew long to agree with my diagnosis. I helped them lift her onto the stretcher and carry her down to the van and off she went.

I went back to the girls, they were both hugging each other and crying. “I’m sorry I shouted, girls, but Auntie Stella has been taken very ill and I had to call the ambulance.”

“Is she gonna die?” asked Mima.

“I hope not, Meems, I hope not.”

“Was she sick?” asked Trish.

“I don’t think so. I think she’s had what they call a miscarriage.” I then tried to explain it to them.

“She’s lost her baby?” said Trish showing some comprehension of my garbled explanation.

“Can we go and find it?” asked Mima.

“It’s gone to Jesus,” said Trish. Whilst I didn’t agree with the suggestion, for the moment I couldn’t think of anything better to say.

“It’s gone fa cheeses?” asked Mima, “wike we had wast night?”

“Please,” I said, before Trish said something unpleasant to her sibling, “I think the baby has died. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. I need to go and phone Simon, so please be good for a few minutes.

Simon was in a meeting, so I asked to talk with Henry. He was in the same meeting. Not my day, it seemed. I called Monica, she was out or not answering the phone.

I sent a text to Simon, ‘Ring me v. urgent, re Stella. C.’ I sent the same message to Henry.

I really wanted to be at the hospital, but needed to be here with the girls, I couldn’t really take them with me. I did try calling Pippa, but she wasn’t answering either. Where was everyone?

Trish changed out of her uniform and back into her play clothes. I did them some egg and chips, I wasn’t hungry. Then as I was washing up, the phone rang.

Trish took it, “Hello, this is Trish, can I help? Mummy, it’s Daddy.” I ran to the phone wiping my hands in a tea towel as I went.

“Babes, what’s up?”

“Go and play in the lounge, girls.” I waited until they were out of earshot. “Stella has miscarried, I think the baby is dead.”

There was silence and I think I heard him sniff. “Is she alright, Stella, I mean?”

“I don’t know, she’d lost a lot of blood, she was unconscious when I found her, we’d been to see Tom, and I got Trish’s uniform on the way back.”

“So which hospital is she in?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t go with her because of the kids.”

“No, course not. Okay, I’ll try and find out and get back to you.”

“Simon, I tried to call Henry, but he was in your meeting.”

“Yeah, I’ll send him a message. As soon as I find out where she is, I’m on my way.”

“Okay, drive carefully. I love you.”

“I love you too, Babes.” He put the phone down. As soon as I put mine down, it rang again. This time it was Henry.

“What do you mean, you don’t know which hospital she’s in, what are you a moron?” I burst into tears. “I’m sorry, Cathy, I’m at sixes and seven’s here.”

“I had to stay with the girls, the ambulance would take her to the nearest A&E with an ICU,” I sobbed down the phone. “Simon was trying to find out which one.”

“Okay, I’m on my way, Simon can call me in the car.”

I put the phone down and it rang immediately. “Hi, Cathy, it’s Pippa, you called me.”

“Yes, I wondered if you could baby-sit?”

“Which night?”

“Now, Stella’s been rushed into hospital with a miscarriage, it’s touch and go.”

“I’d have to bring my two over.”

“Yeah, that’s okay if you can cope with my two as well.”

“Your two are like little angels compared to my pair of demons.”

“Get a cab, I’ll pay.”

“I’ll pack a bag, if you’re going to the hospital it could be a long night.”

“Yeah, I’d better go and do that for her.”

“See you in about an hour.”

“Thanks, Pippa.”

I stripped Stella’s bed and washed the matteress cover and sheets. Thankfully, it had saved the mattress from most of the damage. I then found her pre-packed bag. I took out all the baby stuff and just packed some toiletries, knickers and nightdresses and stuff for her.

I took it downstairs and the girls looked at me with tears in their eyes. “Are you going away, Mummy?” asked Trish.

“Don’t go, Mummy?” screamed Mima and they both burst into tears.

“Hey, you two, I’m going to take these into the hospital for Auntie Stella. Auntie Pippa is coming to look after you two. Come on, let’s get you undressed and ready for bed. I had just finished that when the front doorbell rang, and in stepped Pippa and her two boys. I paid off the cab.

The phone rang. “That’s Simon I expect, confirming she’s in the Queen Alex.” I picked up the handset. “Hello?”

“Mrs Watts?”

“Yes.”

“This is Portsmouth Hospitals Trust…”

I felt my knees go week.

“…can you come down right away.”