The Dilemma. Part Two

by Sue

Steve looked up from the out of date National Geographic magazine that he held in his hand at the black and white clock on the wall for the umpteenth time; he had been sitting here alone for over 15 minutes now. Why on the earth was she taking so long? He was starting to get fidgety, the wait and the not knowing were absolutely killing him. He’d gone over different scenarios in his head time after time and now he just couldn’t think straight any more. He looked back down at his magazine, how many times had he started to read the article on the Amazon rain forest, he hadn’t even got pass the first sentence. He dropped the magazine back on the table beside him and gazed round at the crowded waiting room. He hated doctors’ surgeries and thankfully never had the need to visit them often. He didn’t even want to think about what illnesses and infectious diseases were spreading themselves around in this cramped, airless room. The indicator above the door buzzed into life, flashing red and making him jump. An old man with a hacking cough rose from his seat and went through the door next to one through which Dora had disappeared ages ago. His eyes continued to scan around the room; to him it seemed that either a mother with a very young child or a heavily pregnant woman occupied every other seat.

His gaze enlightened on one young woman sitting opposite him. In her arms she held a small baby wrapped in a blue woollen blanket, as she tenderly pushed the blanket away from it’s face, Steve could see that the baby was sleeping, long dark eyelashes rested on the pink round cheeks. The expression on the young mother’s face as she looked down at her sleeping child was one of pure love and pride. Would he, in a few months time be watching Dora with that same expression on her face looking down at their child, he bit his lip absentmindedly and sighed.

As the woman looked up she caught his gaze and he smiled shyly at her. Noting that his eyes had been on her baby she spoke quietly to Steve.

“They look lovely when they are asleep, don’t they?”

Steve looked up cautiously, not sure if the woman was speaking to him or not. “Yes.” Agreed Steve softly, embarrassed at being caught staring at the sleeping child. ‘He’s… beautiful.’

“Yes, he is, isn’t he? But then all mothers think their own babies are beautiful, don’t they?”

Steve nodded shyly. “I suppose so.”

The young woman looked around the waiting room. ‘I hate these places. They never seem to keep to the appointment times, do they? Only came because he’s due his first jab.’ She looked down at the sleeping child.“Do you have any?” she asked. “Children, I mean?” She added seeing Steve’s puzzled frown.

“Urm…no.” He nearly said “Not yet!” but stopped himself and smiled instead, shaking his head sadly.

The mother seemed to read his thoughts. “It’s not as daunting as you think, you know, having a child. I was scared too at first but once they’re born and you hold them and see how beautiful they are.” She touched the baby’s little button nose lightly. “The love just comes pouring out and you feel the need cherish and take care of them. Well, I did anyway, and I’m sure it’s like that for most people.” She removed a little mitten from the baby’s tiny hand and as it slipped from her grasp, falling to the floor, Steve bent forward and picked it up.

He fingered the woollen mitten for a second, amazed at how tiny it was, he glanced at baby’s hand its little fingers curled into a fist, he marvelled at how something so small could be so perfect. He reached out and handed the mitten to the young woman. As she took it from him she looked into his eyes. Gorgeous dark eyes and a nice smile, if I wasn’t married… she thought. There was something about him, a sad look of apprehension in those eyes, a nervous fear almost. Here was an expectant father, she surmised, who was unsure of what sort of father he would make or even if he was ready to be a father at all.

“I’m sure you’ll make a great dad…. one day.” She said smiling at him as he rose to meet Dora who had just re-entered the waiting area from the doctor’s consulting room. Giving him a quick glance, Dora headed purposely for the door.

“Thanks.” Funny, how she seemed to be able to read his thoughts. He nodded his goodbye and glanced one last time at the sleeping baby then followed Dora out of the main door into the adjoining carpark.

Once outside on the steps of the surgery building, he took hold of her arm and spun her round to look at him.

“Well” he asked quietly, keeping his eyes focused on her face, anxiously waiting for her reply.

Dora nodded slowly but her own eyes had already told him what he needed to know.

“Oh, Dora.” He immediately wrapped his arms around her and she laid her head on his shoulder, grateful of the strong arms that stopped her from collapsing on the floor. ‘I’m sorry.’ She murmured into his jacket lapel as the tears rolled down her cheeks. After several long minutes, Steve let her go and putting a supporting arm around her, guided her to the Land Rover. “Come on, girl, let’s go home.”

The journey back to Follyfoot took place without any spoken communication between them although Steve did place a reassuring hand on her thigh and was comforted when her own hand covered it and squeezed it tenderly.

Steve pulled into a passing place on the way up the narrow lane to the farm. He switched off the engine and turned to Dora.

“What now?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head and shrugged, letting her shoulders sag.

“What did the doctor say?” he asked taking her hand in his.

“She…just…went over some possible options.” Dora removed her gaze from his and looking down at his hand caressed his long fingers. She wanted to look anywhere but into those dark, all seeing eyes that seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.

“Options! What options?” His brows furrowed in his familiar puzzled frown.

“Oh, you know?”

“No I don’t know, Dora. I’ve never been in this situation before.”

“Neither have I!” she retorted more harshly than she intended then continued more quietly. “Whether to keep it or not.” Her voice quavered.

“And?”

“I can’t…Steve.” Her eyes search his again, for what she didn’t know. Understanding, perhaps, of what she was about to tell him.

“Can’t what...? Keep it!” snatching his hand from hers, he broke away from her gaze and sighed deeply focusing on the fields beyond the window screen. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly turning his knuckles white.

“No. I can’t…I can’t…Steve please!” She brought her hand up and gently touched the side of his face, turning it towards her, forcing him to look at her once more. She paused as she swallowed the sob that was threatening to escape from her throat. “I can’t… get rid of it. It’s a new life, a precious new life growing inside me. Our baby, Steve! I can’t just sweep it away as if it doesn’t exist.” She placed a hand on her stomach. She stared at him, her eyes looking deep into his then she saw it, the love and understanding she hoped she would find there.

“Thank God.” He let out a long loud sigh of relief and smiled at her.

“You mean. You… you don’t mind…” She stammered.

“I said I would support you whatever. Be there for you whatever you decided was the right thing to do. And as it happens, I believe you’ve made the only right decision, for all of us.” Looking down he placed his hand on top of hers, which was still on her stomach, and stroked it tenderly. “It’s what Follyfoot’s all about. Preserving life! How can we spend our days protecting and caring for vulnerable and innocent lives while discarding the most precious life of all?” He brought his eyes up to meet hers.

“Oh Steve.” She reached up and planted a loving kiss on his lips, instantly they were in each other arms, and held on to each other, Dora allowing the tears to flow freely down her face, Steve blinking hard, willing the tears that threatened in his eyes not to come. When they finally broke off, each had a relieved look on their face.

For Dora, it seemed like a great weight had been lifted from her. She no longer felt sick and the tight band around her chest had slackened. But despite this relief, the dreadful fear had been replaced by more complex feelings.

“Hey, everything going to be alright, no more tears.

“Dora!” His voice was quiet. “How did it happen? Did the doctor say?”

“Well, Steve, it’s like this.” She said trying to hide a smile. “Boy meets girl, they kiss and then….”

“Okay, okay. Very funny, I asked for that didn’t I?” He grinned at her light-hearted reply; pleased to see the smile back on her pretty face replacing the worried look she had there this last few days.

“Sorry. Remember that chest infection I had that I couldn’t shift and ended up having antibiotics for.’ Steve nodded. ‘Well, apparently the contraceptive pill can be affected by them lessening the protection and reliability.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh! Steve, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

Steve took her both her hands in his and squeezed them. “Hey, it’s okay; it’s not your fault. These things happen. We’ll be alright, we’ll manage, I promise.”

“Yes, we will, won’t we?” She looked down at his hands and caressed his long fingers, thinking about how their life would change from this day onwards. No longer just the two of them, devoting their days to the farm and the horses, and the nights to each other. Soon there would be this small defenceless person, demanding their attention, depending on them for all his or her needs. Expecting all their love, which she would…, they would give unconditionally, of course? She just hoped that they would still have enough love left for each other.

“What do we tell the others?” Steve’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Do you think they’ll be alright about it? Slugger, Ron and…Uncle?”

“They’ll be shocked and surprised but okay I think, I hope! Ron will certainly have a field day with this.” Steve chuckled to himself picturing Ron’s face and imagining the sort of comments their friend would no doubt come out with.

Dora suddenly let out a gasp. “My parents”

“Hell…your parents!” Steve exclaimed, almost at the same time. “My God, they’ll have me hung, drawn and quartered for this.”

“They don’t need to be told. Do they, Steve?”

“Don’t be daft, Dora. Of course they’ll have to be told, you can’t keep some thing like this a secret.”

“But not yet, Steve, please. Let’s not tell anyone yet. Not even Uncle, Slugs or ….Ron.”

“We’ve been here before.” Steve said recalling the initial secret of their romance. “But they guessed then so what makes you think they won’t this time.”

“I don’t know?” She muttered shaking her head. “I just know that it is going to take…time for us to come to terms with this. You have to admit, Steve, it was an awful big shock. Not something we had included in our dream, certainly not this early in our relationship anyway, was it?” Steve shook his head slowly as she continued. “And I just want us to get use to this on our own, before we have tell any one else.”

Steve nodded in agreement. “Okay, okay. But it won’t be easy. Come on, we’d better be getting back to the farm.” He let go of her hands and turning back to the steering wheel, started the engine and drove up the lane to Follyfoot.

As they walked up the path to the back door, Dora placed a hand on Steve’s arm. He stopped and looked round at her.

“Steve…I’m scared!” she whispered.

“Me too!” His lips curved into a slight smile. “It’ll be alright.” He tried to sound convincing as he ushered her up the path before him.

“And where have you two been?” Ron sat at the kitchen table, cigarette in one hand and a mug in the other.

“Shopping.” Steve dropped the bags of groceries on the table, with a quick glance in Dora’s direction.

“What, all morning?” Ron took a drag of his cigarette, gave a hacking cough, and threw the stub into the fire.

“I wanted to buy some new jeans.” “I needed some new boots.” Dora and Steve said at the same time.

“What?” Ron eyed them suspiciously. “Which was it?”

“Both.” Steve said quickly.

“Oh, I see. So while muggin’s ‘ere does all the work, you two were off on a fashion spree. Where are they then?”

“What?” Dora said. “Oh, we couldn’t find anything we liked, could we, Steve?”

“Er…no!”

“What neither of you?” Ron screwed up his face. “Oh well, at least we can eat now. I’m starvin’. Old Slugs ‘ere, wouldn’t let me start lunch without you.” He picked up a sandwich from the plate in front of him and took a large bite out of it.

“That’s cos you’d eat them all. Come on, you two, sit down and have some lunch, you look like you could do with it.” The ever-perceptive Slugger chivvied them to the table.

“Ta.” Steve wrinkled his nose at the sight of the now dry and curled up sandwiches.

“I’m not hungry, thanks Slugs. I’ll just have a cup of tea.” Dora said sitting down.

“I don’t blame you, girl,” Ron pulled a face at the sandwich in his hand. “Reckon these are worse than British Rail!” He ducked as Slugger aimed a tea towel at him.

“Dora, you need to eat, think of….” Steve stopped himself as out of the corner of his eye; he caught both Slugger and Ron turning to look at him, each with a slightly puzzled look on their faces.

“Think of all the work we have to do this afternoon.” He corrected himself. “Can’t imagine this one here.” He jerked a thumb at Ron. “Has done it all. And you can’t work on an empty stomach.”

“No, of course not.” Dora replied, reluctantly taking a sandwich from the plate that Steve held out to her. That was a close one, she thought, placing a hand reassuringly on Steve’s knee as he sat down beside her. They were going to have to be careful what they said around Slugger and Ron, for the time being, anyway.

---

By the start of the following week Dora and Steve were a lot more comfortable with the knowledge that they were to become parents, even if the thought was still actual quite frightening at times. Dora had even managed to buy a couple of books on pregnancy and childbirth, when she went into town to get her haircut.

Approaching the counter at the bookshop, she had been given a ‘funny’ look by the manager, Mr Christmas. (His name always made her chuckle and she wondered if his children referred to him as ‘father’.) Steve was a regular visitor to the shop, and she was often with him, so she guessed the manager, knew who she was. She had reddened when he served her and she was tempted to say that they were for a friend but he, tactfully Dora surmised, didn’t make the slightest comment on the titles but chatted in a friendly way about the weather and the up and coming town fete. Or perhaps, thankfully, he hadn’t recognised her after all, she thought. But as she was leaving, he asked her to give his regards to Steve and wish her well, causing the colour to rise in her cheeks once more!

They lay in bed at night reading through the books together, somewhat happier. What was done was done, they couldn’t, wouldn’t change anything now! The books dispelling some of the myths and concerns that had begin to worry them. They even made a game of choosing baby names.

“How about Arthur?” Dora asked tongue in cheek, knowing what Steve’s answer would be to the suggestion of using her father’s name.

“Er… I don’t think so.” He tickled her playfully. “Anyway, it might be a girl.”

“Prudence, then?” She looked at Steve who grimaced at the sound of Dora’s mother’s name.

“No! No way!” He shook his head defiantly. “Besides if we’re talking about mothers, what about Katherine.”

“Umm…I don’t know…. perhaps not Katherine but I like the sound of the shortened form of Katie, more up to date.”

“Katie…eh…not bad. Hey, what about Dora, is it short for something? Dorothy, perhaps! ” He grinned quizzing her. He never thought about it before and she hadn’t ever said.

“Aah, that would be telling.” She smiled teasingly. “Steven!” she giggled, tickling him playfully.

They spent sometime discussing and playfully arguing over names until sleep over came them.

Their only anxiety lay in how and when to tell the others. They had had numerous discussions on when would be the best time, even rehearsing their speech word by word several times. But as each day passed the task seemed to get harder. Many times they both tried to broach the subject but each time either they bottled out or something got in the way. Steve had decided to take his lead from Dora, he agreed only to tell when she was ready and Dora was particularly having a hard time summing up the nerve to tell them. Had they known that their unusual behaviour was a genuine concern with both Slugger and Ron, they may have found it easier to confide in their friends.

Ron had been skulking behind the muckheap, having a crafty cigarette but still being able to keep a watchful eye on the yard. From his hidden vantage point, he noticed that a disagreement, which appeared to be getting more heated as the minutes passed, was going on between Dora and Steve. He had watched Dora fill two buckets at the water tap and as she carried them across the yard to the donkeys’ pen, one in each hand, Steve came storming out of the tack room. Ron strained his ears and was able to pick up part of the conversation.

“Dora, what the hell are you doing?” He snatched the buckets from her grasp and dropped them down with a clatter, causing water to slop onto the cobbles.

“Steve, its okay I can manage, really.”

“That might be case in the past but I told you not to do any more heavy lifting.” His eyes blazed in anger and exasperation.

“You told me! Don’t you think I’m quite capable of deciding what I can or can’t do for myself?”

“Well, deciding to carry two full buckets is just the height of stupidity. For goodness sake, Dora, think about it….” Steve shouted at her.

“Steve, please don’t shout, Slugger or Ron might hear.” She interrupted, looking around the stable yard for any sign of their two friends and placed a hand on his arm to calm him.

“I’m not shouting.” Steve said lowering his voice anyway, so Ron was unable to hear now. “Please be sensible, girl.” He placed his own hands on her shoulder and squeezed her gently.

Ron dropped his cigarette and ground it into the grass with the heel his cowboy boot. “I wonder what that was all about.” He said out loud, still watching Dora and Steve as Steve handed Dora a bucket and made his way to the donkey’s pen, with the other while she empty the contents of hers at the base of the old tree. Something was up, something big and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he found what.

Slugger in his own inimitable way had been keeping a watchful eye on his young friends too. He had noticed how Steve had become almost over protective of Dora, intervening often, to stop her doing the more strenuous chores around the farm. On one occasion he had walked into the tack room to find Steve remonstrating with Dora as she tried to climb a ladder to reach a saddle hung high up on the wall. They were quieter too in the evenings and hadn’t stayed up to talk or listen to the radio with him, for nearly week. He was sure though that if anything was worrying them, they would eventually tell him, when they were ready. In the meantime he’d have to be patient.

---

“Morning!” Ron called stomping his way into the kitchen, undoing his denim jacket and dropping it on the table.

“Afternoon!” Steve greeted him sarcastically.

“Ha, ha, very funny, mate. Any chance of a cuppa, I’m parched.” He picked up the milk bottle and added some to a mug. He looked around the room. “Oi, where’s Dora? Not flippin’ working already.”

“Unusually, no, not today, actually she’s having a lie in.” Steve picked up his own tea and took a large gulp.

“What?” Ron exclaimed in amazement. “Oh, it’s alright for some, ain’t it? So while us peasants do all the work, her ladyship ‘aving a lie in! She’ll be bathing in ass’s milk next!”

“Give over Ron! It’s not like that.” Steve rounded on his workmate. “You know she works damn hard and all hours, unlike some people!” He scowled at Ron, who was now pouring out scalding hot tea into his mug. “Don’t forget we don’t have the luxury of much extra sleep at the weekend like you do.”

“Sorry, I’m sure.” retorted Ron.

“She’s tired at the moment that’s all.” Steve said more quietly. “Surely as Mistress of Follyfoot….” He gave a little laugh. “She’s allowed the occasional lie in.” Steve returned his own tea to the table and picking up the mug he had poured out for Dora, he made his way across the kitchen to the stairs.

“Yeah, sorry mate.” Ron said scathingly a quizzical look on his face. He opened his mouth to make some comment about ‘her having tea in bed’ but thought better of it. Something odd was definitely going on, though, he decided.

Steve placed the mug quietly on the bedside table. Dora had fallen back to sleep and was lying curled up on her side. She look so sweet, the anxiety of the last week or so had lifted from her face. Steve bent over and kissed her hair softly as not to wake her, she stirred, a small smile creeping to her lips. He left her to her dreams.

Dora stood at the bedroom window gazing down at the scene before her.

Ron was in the donkey’s pen, seemingly working for once. She watched as he gave one of the donkeys a shove with his shoulder to move it, then, looking around quickly, began to fussed the old thing up, patting it’s neck and rubbing it’s nose. Dora gave a small laugh; Ron was fond of the donkeys but didn’t like to admit it to anyone. He’s just a big softie at heart, thought Dora smiling to herself. Her gazed then enlightened on Slugger as he walked across the yard carrying a bale of fresh bedding for Copper’s stall. She felt a little envious; it was her job each morning to see to Copper. Still she had felt the extra sleep had done her good.

“Here it is, little one.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “Your home and your…family… Yes, your family.”

Her gazed fell back to Ron, who, now Slugger was in the yard, was busy forking old bedding into a wheelbarrow, at least pretending to work.

“There’s your funny old…Uncle Ron. You’ll like him, he’ll no doubt teach you all the things I’d rather you not know! And there’s Slugger, he’ll be…your surrogate grandfather, as he’s been my surrogate father, (and Steve’s too, she thought) Grandpa Slugger. He’ll keep you on the straight and narrow. Listen to him and you won’t go far wrong. Of course, we mustn’t forget Great Uncle Geoffrey, who isn’t here at the moment, but he’s the reason you’ve got this beautiful place to live and grow up in.” Her eyes swept around the farm and the yard.

“And there’s your daddy.” She said as Steve emerged from the top stable, a barrow full of yet another load of old bedding. She watched as he tipped it on the muckheap and then dropping the wheelbarrow loudly on the cobbles, stretched, yawned and rubbed his back. She smiled lovingly. “He’s the best father a child could ever wish for. He’ll take care of you and protect you; give you all the love he never had as a child. I know you will adore him…as I do.”

She stood there at the window for a few more minutes, chuckling to herself as Steve, Ron and Slugger engaged in some good-humoured banter that culminated in Ron threatening to dump a fork full of manure on Steve’s feet. Steve backed off just in time, laughing and making a rude gesture to his workmate.

A while later Dora strode across the yard and peeked over the half door of one of the stalls just as Ron’s head popped up.

“Oh, decided to join us peasants then, eh, your ladyship.” Ron pretended to doff his cap. “Felt a pang of guilt did you?” Ron said grinning at her.

“No.” Dora replied a cheeky smile on her own face. “I was just looking for Steve.”

“Steve! It’s always Steve. Think he’s in the barn. Don’t know what you see in him, girl. He’s certainly not as ‘andsome as moi here, now is he?” Ron pointed to his chest.

“Oh, Ron.” Dora exclaimed reaching over the door and giving him a hug around his neck and a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, what was that for?” Ron said surprised as Dora let him go.

“No reason.” Dora shrugged “Just… don’t ever change, Ron!” She said as she turned and walked up the yard to the barn.

“Oi, Dora.” Ron called after her, causing her to look back at him. “When you find his lordship, tell him to stop singing, he’s frightening the ‘orses...and me an’ all!”

It was then that Dora heard Steve’s voice singing, not quite in tune. She followed it into the large barn.

“Let me have my say, go a little my way………….”

Seeing her stood in the barn door way, Steve stopped his singing abruptly.

“Don’t stop on my account,” she said smiling at him, although she could understand Ron’s remark about Steve’s singing!

“Hey, girl. I thought you were staying in bed.” He stacked one hay bale on top of another with a shove.

“I stayed in there long enough. I’m not use to it, unless….of course, it’s with you.” She said coyly.

He grinned at her. “You okay, though. Happy?” Suddenly his face was serious.

“Yes. Of course, I am.” She nodded “Very.” She added.

“Steve!” she continued. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” Steve frowned.

“To tell the others.” She answered quietly.

“When?” he said in an uncertain voice. She had said the same thing several times over the last few days.

“Today! I promise this time.” Dora said reading the look on his face.

“Really. You promise.”

“Yes, at suppertime. Uncle said he might pop round then. We can tell them all together.”

“Okay!” Steve rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Dora asked.

“No, well, only a bowl of cereal when I got up. Why? Are you hungry?” he asked sarcastically.

“Actually, I’m starving.” She said giving him a sheepish look.

“That’s my girl.” Steve shook his head and grinned. “In that case, we’d better go and find Slugger and hurry him on with the bacon and eggs.”

He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her as she put her face up to his and kissed him lightly on the lips, before they both walked out into the yard in search of Slugger and breakfast.

Later that day, Dora sat at the supper table, nervously chewing her fingers, as Slugger dished out the steak pie he had made that afternoon. Dora hope that it tasted as delicious as it looked, the crust was golden brown and the chunky meat sat in rich gravy. But she knew from experience, with Slugger’s cooking, the look wasn’t everything.

The Colonel, Dora’s uncle sat at the head of the table, after arriving earlier on one of his increasingly rare visits to the farm. Although he was in reasonably good health, Dora couldn’t get over how much older he was looking now, his face pale and gaunt. She wonder how he would take the news she was about to break to him. Although he had been happy when Steve moved in with her, and hadn’t given any hint of disapproval, having a child out of wedlock and at such a young age, would probably go against his old fashioned thinking. She was desperate for his approval and support now. She and Steve both hoped for the support of the Colonel as well as Slugger and Ron.

Ron, thrusting the dish of mashed potatoes under her nose, interrupted her thoughts.

“’Ere girl, wake up! Day dreaming won’t get you out of eating Slugger’s latest culinary delight, you know?”

“Sorry.” Taking the dish from Ron she glanced at Steve, who smiled at her reassuringly. She piled the mash on her plate and asked Slugger for extra pie, she was feeling particularly hungry today, making up for the last week or so when she hadn’t felt like eating much at all.

“For gawd sake, girl. You’ve enough there to feed two people.” Ron quipped eyeing the amount of food on Dora’s plate.

“Well, she is.” Steve looked at her. “Shall I tell them… or shall you?”

“Tell us what?” Slugger said as he sat down at the table. Ron looked up from his plate with a frown.

“I will.” Dora said reaching out for Steve’s hand. He took hers and gave it a squeeze.

Gripping Steve’s hand hard, she glanced around at the table. She allowed her gaze to linger briefly on her uncle’s face before moving to Ron and Slugger.

She swallowed hard before speaking. “I’m pregnant.” She said nervously.

“Eh!” Ron said a puzzled look on his face as if he hadn’t heard properly.

“I’m pregnant.” She repeated looking first at Steve, who winked at her, then at her uncle, awaiting his reaction.

“No, surely not.” Slugger said disbelievingly.

“It’s true.” Steve nodded. “We’re…erm… having a baby.” With a sigh, he glanced at Dora staring expectantly at the Colonel, who was staring back at her.

“Uncle!”

The Colonel, sat with his hands palms down on the table, was a man rarely lost for words, normally he was not afraid to say what he thought, and would voice his opinion freely, especially to his niece. He sat in silence looking from Dora to Steve and back again.

Ron who had initially been struck dumb with shock, suddenly found his voice. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed loudly.

The Colonel turned and looked at him. “My sentiments exactly, Ron.” He said trying to hide a chuckle.

“Well, Uncle.” Dora said sitting shoulder to shoulder with Steve still holding his hand tight.

“Well, indeed. I don’t know what to say. What about you two? How are you with it?”

“Well.” Dora sighed. “We were obviously surprised and shocked at first.” She glanced at Steve with a smile, which he returned nervously. “But now we had sometime to get use to it, we’re okay about it…we’re happy about it… Aren’t we, Steve?”

“Yeah.” He nodded in agreement. He looked around at each of the three other occupants of the table in turn. “We appreciate it has come as a big shock to you all, probably not as big a shock as it was to us, but we want you to know we do want…we do want this baby. We’ve done a lot of soul searching, talked about it endlessly, there was never any question that we would…well…you know.” Steve shrugged.

“I knew there were somethin’ going on. But this! I’m soddin’ gobsmacked!” Ron exclaimed, his food for once forgotten.

Slugger, who had sat with his mouth open wide in amazement still with his knife and fork in his hands, suddenly shot up from his chair, and dropping his cutlery on the table with a clatter went over to Dora and Steve.

“Well, I think it’s smashin’. A child will bring a bit ‘o life to this place.” He reached his arms to Dora who rose from her seat to meet his embrace.

“I’m ‘appy for you both.” He held out an arm to Steve, to include him in the hug.

“A bit of life, oh yeah. More like a LOT of crying and screaming. Not to mention the smelly dirty nappies. Yuck!” Ron wrinkled up his nose. But within seconds he was on his feet and giving Dora a bear hug.

“Hey, watch it, mate.” Steve reminded Ron of her delicate condition.

“Whoops, sorry.” He let her go and clapped Steve on the back, congratulating him then gave him a hug in guarded, manly way.

“Uncle.” Dora turned to the Colonel who was now watching the congratulatory scene with a wry smile on his face. His was very concern over the news he had just been told. It took hard work and long hours running the farm, and with all the extra horse training coming their way, how would Dora and Steve cope. He knew how the farm relied on each of them pulling their weight and sharing all the tasks. How would they manage without Dora’s input when the advancing pregnancy, not to mention the actual birth and looking after the child, forced her to reduce the amount of farm work she could do, considerably. They were also young, perhaps too young! They would need all the support they could get. He would do as much as he could to help them. And he knew Slugger would too! He have to have a quiet word with Ron, make him understand he have to knuckle down and take some of the workload off Dora and Steve. Now there was challenge.

Dora stood in front of her uncle, placing a hand on is arm. “Uncle.” She repeated.

At once he put his arms out to her and she flung her own around his waist. “I’m happy for your both, I really am. You have my support and all the help I can give. Just as long as you feel you can cope and be able to combine the running of the farm with raising a family. It won’t be easy; you both know that, don’t you? But I’ll help in any way I can.” He reached out an arm and placed it across Steve’s shoulders.

“Us too!” Slugger chimed up. “We’ll ‘elp too! Won’t we, Ron. We’ll manage between us all.”

“Yeah. But I dunno about this changing nappies lark though! It’s bad enough ‘aving to muck out the ‘orses.” Ron plonked himself back down at the table and resumed his eating his meal; the talk of dirty nappies and mucking out had failed to curb his appetite. As everyone else seated themselves back around the table, only one topic dominated the mealtime conversation. Towards the end of supper the telephone rang.

“I’ll get it.” Steve rose from the table and disappeared into the study.

He walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later, a frown on his face. Dora looked up from the table and caught the look.

“What is it, Steve?” she asked.

“That was Simon.” He said quietly shaking his head. “He sounded odd, flustered, like he’d been running. He wants me to meet him down at the village, said he had proof regarding the pony.” He looked at Dora.

“Not more beatings.” Dora said in horror, rising quickly from her seat.

“What’s all this about?” The Colonel interrupted.

Steve and Dora gave an abbreviated version of the story of Simon and the alleged cruelty by the councillor to his dog and pony. The Colonel could hardly believe what he was hearing. The man appeared to be a respected member of the community, although the Colonel, himself, didn’t particularly like him, finding the councillor arrogant and full of his own importance. He volunteered to go with Steve to meet the boy.

“I want to come.” Dora stood defiantly by Steve’s side.

“I don’t think so, girl.”

“And why not?”

“Look, Dora, we don’t know what’s going on down there. It might not be very pleasant. If that bloke’s there or Simon’s done some thing stupid, it might get nasty. We can’t risk you getting involved.” He placed his hands on her arms and squeezed her reassuringly. “Not with…” he added glancing down at stomach.

“Oh Steve, don’t be daft, you can’t wrap me up in cotton wool. I’m coming; and that’s, that?”

“Okay.” He said with an exasperated sigh, knowing it was no use arguing with her, she could as stubborn as him at times. Grabbing their jackets Dora and Steve headed outside to the Land Rover. The Colonel followed them in his sports car as they drove out of the yard.

They found Simon waiting for them on the road leading into the village. He stood on the side of the verge and waved for them to stop when he saw them approaching.

After a quick explanation as to why he was there and what he had discovered, Simon produced the proof he had acquired of the councillor mistreating his animals. He pulled out three photographs from a satchel he was carrying. Despite being distance shots there was still no mistaking the horrifying image. They depicted the man wielding a cane, quite clearly in the act of beating the pony on its hindquarters. Steve asked when they were taken, and was puzzled to learn that they were taken less than an hour before. Questioning the boy on how the photographs could have been developed and printed so fast, Steve and Dora were amazed when Simon produced a camera from his bag, explaining that it was a new ‘instant camera’ that developed the photographs within a few minutes. His father had brought it back from one of his trips aboard.

Simon went on to say that he had observed the man leaving his property in his car a few minutes before and that it was safe to go and have a look at the pony.

It stood at the edge of muddy at the back of the house. As they approach it twitched nervously. Simon called out softly to the pony, holding out his hand and it slowly came closer to him, sniffing his hand tentatively then allowing the boy to stroke its nose. Nuzzling his pocket it searched for the apple the boy had in there. The pony munched on the fruit as the Colonel took a closer look at the injured back and hindquarters, rubbing his hand gently over the pony’s matted coat.

Dora gasped at the sight of the welts from the cane; some blows had obviously been inflicted with some force as to cut the skin, leaving it red and bleeding. She put a hand up to her mouth, and darting behind a nearby bush was violently sick. In an instant Steve was there, an arm around her, holding her as she continued to retch. He felt like chastising her for coming in the first place but thought better of it; she would be feeling dreadful as it was. After a few moments she began to feel better, breathing in deeply she took the handkerchief Steve offered her and wiped her mouth. She leaned on him as he enfolded her in his arms, comforting her. Then slowly he helped her back to the Colonel and Simon.

“Are you alright?” The Colonel said, his concern for his niece showing in his voice.

Dora nodded. “What about the pony, Uncle? What are we going to do?”

“Well, given the state of the poor thing and the evidence of cruelty. The only thing we can do is go to the police. Let them and the RSPCA deal with him. Though, no doubt the dreadful man will have a good lawyer, so it may not be easy to get a conviction. Would you like me to come with you and Simon?”

“Actually, Colonel, I was hoping you would take Simon. If that’s okay with you, Simon?” He turned from the Colonel to the boy then back to Colonel. “Only I think I should take Dora home. No argument, girl.” He added as Dora protested. And besides, he thought, the police were more likely to take notice of someone of the Colonel’s standing than of Steve.

“Alright. I’ll let you know how we get on. You might need to send Ron with the horsebox to collect this poor thing.” He patted the pony’s neck. “I’ll ring once I’ve spoken with the police and the RSPCA. Come on, Simon and bring the photographs.” He motioned to the boy to pick up his satchel.

Had the circumstances been different, Simon would have been excited about going for drive in the little sports car but his mind was on the suffering of the poor pony at the moment and hoping he wouldn’t get into too much trouble regarding the secret photographing.

Dora reluctantly left the pony and allowed Steve to drive her back to Follyfoot. She leant her head against his shoulder as they tootled back along the country roads, her mind thinking of the sight of the pony, she hope he would be alright and couldn’t wait to get it to the farm, where she could take care of it and love it. Suddenly she felt tired and closed her eyes, Steve glancing at her smiled, as her steady breathing told him she was falling asleep. It had been an exhausting and emotional day.

Fortunately, for the pony, now named Apple after the fruit it loved to eat, the police took the accusations seriously, especially with the involvement of the Colonel and over the next few weeks gathered more evidence against the councillor, who still despite the evidence protested his innocence, had been force to resign his seat on the council. The case against him was ongoing; it could be months before they knew the outcome.

Simon continued to help out at Follyfoot on the weekends and sometimes after school too, now he had caught up with the lessons he’d missed. He got on really well with Steve, looking on him as his hero, hanging on his every word and action. He still had a crush on Dora, which Steve good-humouredly teased him about. And when he found out about the baby, he couldn’t do enough for her, watching out for her and making sure that when Steve and the others weren’t around, she didn’t work too hard.

Dora, herself was a picture of health, she had cease being sick in the mornings, was less tired and almost glowed. She even heeded Steve’s warning for her to take things easier and allowed the others to do all the more demanding chores. Both Slugger and Ron kept a watchful eye on her, making sure she didn’t overtire or over exert herself. Ron, in particular, was very attentive. She would go as far to say, that he and Steve could be a little too fussy and overprotective. She understood why, and was touch by their concern but it didn’t stop her wanting to scream at times. They could certainly give ‘mother hens’ a run for their money.

She wondered what Ron really thought about her having Steve’s baby. He had a long time ago resigned himself to the fact that she would never love him like she loved Steve. She was extremely fond of Ron; he was like a much-loved big brother to her. She could tell he had been shocked at their announcement, she had seen the brief look of hurt in his eyes, but he had then and still seemed genuinely happy for her and Steve.

Although the impending parenthood still filled her with in trepidation, she would admit to becoming a little excited about it too! When out shopping, she found herself being drawn to the shops selling baby goods, lingering at the windows, admiring with a smug smile, the knitted matinee coats, the tiny bootees, the pink dresses and blue romper suits. She couldn’t pass a mother with a pram, without sneaking a peek at the cherub-faced babies within.

Dora emerged from the top stable leading the chestnut horse Highlander, a large brute of an animal, recently brought to them by Major Lewis for training.

“Dora, please be careful, girl.” Steve, on seeing Dora walked over to her. “I’m still not happy about you training him, you know.”

“Steve, I won’t ride him, honestly.”

“Just make sure you don’t. You promised, remember.” Steve gave her a warning look.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t, Steve. If anyone gets on his back, it will be me.” Simon appeared from Highlander’s temporary stable. He had volunteered to help her, and was thrilled when Dora had agreed.

“I’m really not happy about you either, Simon. I would rather you didn’t ride him yet. He’s too hard to handle at the moment. He’ll throw you the first chance he gets.” Steve said knowingly. The day before Steve had saddled the horse up and tried him out, but even he with all his experience had a hard time staying in the saddle. The large horse was feisty and unpredictable, and extremely difficult to control with a rider on his back. It was just this reason that Major Lewis had called on Dora and Steve’s services. He had acquired Highlander from an acquaintance that had known very little about horses and used a disreputable so-called trainer, which resulted in the horse being so badly trained, that he was virtually uncontrollable.

“We’ll be alright, Steve.” She gave him one of her doe eyed looks. “I’m just going to lead him around the paddock today with the saddle on, to get him use to it and use to me too! I don’t intend to over do things, for my sake as well as his.” Today she felt a little off colour, but hadn’t let on to the others. She was bound to have these days, she had thought to herself.

“I’m relying on you, mate.” He pointed a finger at Simon. “To look after her, okay? And I’ll be down in half an hour to see how you’re getting on.”

Simon saluted him and clicked his heels. “Aye, Aye, Sir!” He took the reins from Dora and began to lead him down the yard as Steve caught hold of Dora’s arm and gently tugged her towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled his face down to meet hers. At the gateway, Simon turned and caught Steve’s eye just as his and Dora’s lips met in a kiss. Steve waved a hand at Simon gesturing, good humouredly, for him to ‘go away’. Simon chuckled to himself as he led Highlander through the gate to await Dora at the entrance to the field.

Twenty minutes later, Steve was transferring sacks of feed from the gateway where they had been delivered to the feed store, cursing Ron for doing his disappearing act again, when he heard somebody shouting him, he looked up to see Simon on the rogue chestnut riding like the wind up the field towards the farm. Walking briskly he met a breathless Simon and a snorting Highlander as they approached the farmhouse.

“Simon! What the bloody hell are you doing! What’s up?” he asked frowning.

Simon trying to catch his breath leaned forward on the horse’s neck.

“It’s…er…Dora!” He puffed.

“What?” Steve didn’t stop to listen to any more from Simon. Grapping the boy by the sleeve and pulling him roughly out of the saddle, Steve mounted the horse with one bound and was off down the field as if the very devil was after him.

Dora was kneeling on the ground; her body bent double, her arms across her stomach. Within a second, Steve who had virtually thrown himself off Highlander, was own his own knees by her side, his arms around her holding her.

“What is it, girl. What’s wrong?” He helped her to a sitting position and as she unfurled, he could see the dark red blood already seeping through her jeans.

“Christ!” he gasped, swallowing hard.

“Steve!” She looked at him, tears spilling from her eyes.

Steve wrapped his arms around her holding her tight, rocking her as she clung to him.

“Come on, girl. We need to get you to a hospital. Can you stand?” He held her under the arms and helped her to her feet, supporting her as her legs buckled beneath and she threatened to collapse to the ground again.

“Steve! Is… Dora… okay?” Simon was next to him, breathing hard and clutching his sides.

“No, she’s not.” Steve said quietly, his eyes staring into Dora’s. Turning to the boy, he continued with more urgency in his voice. “Get back to the farm, find Ron, and tell him to bring the truck… And hurry, Simon.” He added as the boy turned on his heels and ran off. ‘Here, Simon!” he called, tossing the vehicle keys to him, which the boy caught with the skill of an England cricket fielder.

The stitch in his side was hurting like hell, but Simon thought of Dora’s face pinched in pain and Steve’s worried look and battled on to the farm, where he found Ron just about to leave for home on his bike. He was just about to ignore Simon, thinking Steve had sent him to insist he stayed and did some work or other but the look on the boy’s face, convinced him almost immediately that something was seriously wrong.

Ron stopped the truck in a cloud of dust as he met Steve, now carrying a very pale and weak Dora, half way down the track. Jumping out he helped get her into the truck then turning on a sixpence drove like the clappers back to farm where Slugger was anxiously waiting with Simon, blankets in hand.

“Here, son.” Slugger handed the blankets to Steve. “Oh my gawd.” He exclaimed at the sight of Dora. “Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?”

“Haven’t got time to wait, Slugs. Need to get her to the hospital… now!” Steve said shakily, wrapping the blanket around Dora. “Get a move on, Ron.”

Ron stood hard on the accelerator and tore off down the driveway leading from Follyfoot to the main road, leaving a concerned Slugger and Simon staring after them.

Ron sped around the country lanes, taking the corners and bends, much too fast for safety. It was lucky that he knew the roads really well, and that there was very little traffic on them. He had just turned on to the main road into Wetherby when he became a ware of blue lights, as a police panda car appeared speeding up behind him.

“Oh hell!” he exclaimed, easing his foot off the accelerator.

“What! What’s going on, why are we stopping? Get a move on, Ron” Steve exclaimed as Ron pulled the truck to a halt.

“Damn well got the flaming fuzz on me tail, ain’t I?”

“Bloody hell, that’s all we need.” Steve had been so engrossed in Dora, she was getting paler and had started to shake, that he hadn’t noticed the blue lights or the siren.

The police car had stopped in front of them and as the officer approached the truck, Ron opened the window.

“Evening, officer. I can explain…” Ron started to say but was cut off by the policeman.

“Oh, I might have known… Ronald Stryker. This better be good one, Stryker, me lad, or you’re in big trouble.” The officer stood defiantly by the truck, looking unimpressed at Ron.

“I …we need to get to the hospital! It’s Dora …she’s….” Ron looked around at Dora and Steve, and gestured with a thumb to the policeman. “Please, officer, she’s really ill…please.”

“Yes, officer, please, we really do need to get her the hospital immediately. She’s losing …blood…please!” Steve interrupted.

The policeman poked his head through the window and at once caught sight of Dora’s white face and Steve’s distressed look as he held on to a shivering Dora, trying to comfort her as she became aware of the policeman.

“Oh, my god, yes…” The policeman retracted his head, and stood for second or two, deciding what was best to do. “You’d better follow me; we’ll get you there quicker.” He continued making his way back to his panda car. “I’ll radio ahead, to let them know at the hospital that you’re on your way.”

Had it been under different circumstances, Ron would have been in his element, speeding along the roads into town, dashing through the red traffic lights, stopping other cars dead at roundabouts and having priority at junctions as other drivers move over in the road to allow the police car, it’s blue lights flashing and siren wailing, and the following Land Rover through.

To Steve it felt like hours but in reality they were at the town’s hospital casualty unit within minutes. Immediately Dora was taken from Steve’s arms and stretchered off down the corridor to a waiting treatment room.

For what seemed like a lifetime, Steve and Ron sat silently in each other’s company, a silence that contrasted starkly with the noise and bustle of the casualty department. The quiet Friday afternoon was now merging into the evening, and already the start of the weekends inevitable drunken mishaps were filling up the waiting room. The two friends had move from the crowding waiting room where they had been asked to sit after giving Dora’s details to the receptionist, to the corridor outside the treatment room. Perched on the edge of the uncomfortable plastic chair, Ron turned to Steve, who was sat next to him with his face in his hands.

“Want a coffee, mate.” He asked quietly, he didn’t really want one himself, just felt the need to be doing something to help his friend.

“No, ta. You get one though, if you want.” Steve looked up, rubbing the weariness from his eyes.

“Nah.” Ron screwed up his face. “Steve, what the hell is going on, why are they taking so long?”

“I don’t know, mate.” Steve sighed loudly and rubbed his temple, leaning his head back against the hard, cold whitewashed wall.

“I could ask the receptionist again.” Ron offered.

“What’s the use, Ron? She doesn’t know any more than we do.”

Ron rose from his chair for the hundredth time that evening, took out his cigarette packet from his pocket and flipped the lid open, looked inside heaved a sigh and closed it again.

Steve watched as Ron stuffed the packet back in his jacket pocket. For all his grumblings and frustrations with Ron, Steve was thankful he was there with him, to have gone through this agonising wait, would have been worse without his friend’s presence.

“Go outside and have ciggy, mate, if you want, I don’t mind, honestly. I’m tempted to ‘ave one meself.” He tried to smile but it was a weak effort.

“Nah, mate, I wonna stay ‘ere with you.” Ron plonked himself heavily back in the chair next to Steve.

“Thanks, Ron. I’m glad you’re here.”

They both watched with angst the coming and going to Dora’s room, each of the medical staff too busy to deal with the questions fired at them by Steve and Ron.

What seemed like hours went by, when eventually a doctor appeared from the room, walked up to them and introduced himself as Dr McDonald.

“Is Dora alright?” Both Steve and Ron were instantly on their feet standing side by side, their faces lined with concern.

“She’s comfortable; there was a lot of blood loss but aye, she going to be fine, yer ken?” The doctor replied in a soft Scottish lilt.

“Thank God.” Steve whispered. “And the baby?” he asked hesitantly all ready knowing the answer.

Dr. McDonald shook his head sadly. “Sorry”

“Why, how did it happen?” Steve said shakily.

“We dinnae really ken. These things just happen, we cannae always give a reason. Mother nature’s way........”

“Of getting rid of an unplanned, illegitimate baby!” Steve wanted to finish the doctor’s sentence for him but held back and shook the thought from his head. Now was not the time to be bitter and angry, it hadn’t been the doctor’s fault. Steve frowned.

“Dinnae worry.” The doctor continued seeing the look on the young man’s face. “She’s young and healthy. I’m sure that any other pregnancies in the future will be fine, and produce a beautiful bonnie bairn.” He smiled kindly at Steve, who thanked the doctor.

“Can I see her now?”

“Of course, just for a wee while, she been sedated and needs to rest.” Dr McDonald said ushering Steve towards the hospital room where Dora lay.

“Ron, are you coming?” Steve turned to his mate who had been standing silently by his side.

“You go in, mate, I’ll be along in a few minutes. I’ll go and give Slugs a bell. He’ll want to know what’s happening.”

“Okay, and thanks Ron.” Steve shrugged and gave Ron an appreciative smile.

Entering the room, Steve let out a small gasp on seeing Dora lying still and pale in the bed.

Outside the hospital, leaning back on the wall, Ron lit a cigarette, then another, and another as he thought of Dora. He had telephoned Slugger from the pay phone in the reception. Ron found himself swallowing a lump in his throat, as he relayed the news of Dora’s condition to the old man. There had been a pause and the sound of sniffing, and then Slugger loudly blowing his nose.

Ron was surprised to find how upset he, himself had been at the loss of Dora and Steve’s baby. For all his unrequited feelings for Dora and the shock at learning that Dora was expecting Steve’s baby when Ron was still coming to terms with the reality of their relationship, he was very saddened at their loss and felt tremendous heartache for them. Stubbing out his third cigarette with his heel, he wiped his sleeve across his eyes and cheeks and he wander back into the hospital.

-----

Dora was woken by a loud noise, sleepily she reach to one side. “Steve, what was that?” But her hand touch nothing but the side of the bed, Steve wasn’t there and she wasn’t in their large comfy bed at Follyfoot. Opening her eyes, her gazed about her, the sun shining through the window lit up the stark white room. The sound of a trolley being pushed noisily down the corridor outside her open door reminded her that she was in hospital. Then another sound hit her, a sound she didn’t expect, that startle her, that of a baby crying, a plaintive cry like that of cat meowing. At first with the drugs still dulling her mind, she thought.....her hand went to her stomach......but of course, how stupid, her baby was no longer within her, no longer existed. She had lost it.....lost her baby. She began to cry. How cruel for the hospital to put here right next to the maternity ward? They had moved her last night while sedated.

Tears rolled down her face, she was being punished that was it. She was being punished for being an unmarried mother, for the unplanned pregnancy. She wouldn’t call it unwanted; it hadn’t been unwanted. She and Steve had come to love the baby growing inside her.

“Steve.” She whispered his name. Where was he? She needed him. Needed him to hold her, needed him to take the pain away. “Steve.”

Steve had been sent home, under duress, late the previous evening. He had wanted to stay, to be there for her, in case she awoke in the night, but the matron in charge had been insistent. Dora was so heavily sedated that there was no point in him remaining, he could return first thing in the morning.

Midnight had come and gone by the time Steve and Ron drove into the farmyard. As Steve walked wearily into the kitchen, Slugger was there at the doorway to meet him. With a concerned look on his face, the older man reached out and placed a fatherly hand on his young friend’s shoulder.

“Are you alright, son?” he asked with a questioning glance over Steve’s shoulder to Ron, who gave a shake of the head. “Come on, Steve, sit down, I’ll make you a cuppa.”

“No thanks, Slugs. I’ve drunk enough tea and coffee to last a lifetime.” Steve said shrugging. “I’ll go and check on the horses, looks like we may be in for storm later.”

“No need, son, all done......young Simon here help me.” Slugger replied gesturing to the armchair, where the young lad sat half asleep.

Steve had been unaware that the teenager had been in the kitchen at all, and was surprised to see him there. “What are you still doing here?” he asked. “Your mum will be worried. I’ll run you home.” He reached for the keys that Ron had dropped on the table.

“It’s okay, we rang her, didn’t we Slugger?” The young boy looked from Steve to Slugger and back again.

“I’ll take you home on me bike.” Ron chirped up, beckoning Simon.

“Cool!” Simon said then looked down at his shoes in embarrassment, remembering the solemn circumstances. As he walked passed Steve to the door, he looked up at him. “I’m sorry about the....Dora will be alright, won’t she?”

Steve nodded. “She’ll be fine.” He said confidently as much to convince himself as well as the boy.

Ron put his hand briefly on his friend’s shoulder. “Get some sleep, mate and I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t worry about the ‘orses, old Ron will be ‘ere bright and early.” At this, Steve couldn’t help be raise a small smile.

“Okay, mate..........and thanks Ron, for today.”

“Aw.....it were nuffin’ mate.” As he headed for the door, he turned back to Steve. “And Steve, she’ll be okay, I promise....you both will.” At that, ushering Simon out of the kitchen, he disappeared into the night.

“Sure you don’t want that cuppa, son....or how about something to eat, bet yer haven’t eaten, ‘ave yer?”

“I’m not hungry really Slugs but thanks...think I’ll just turn in, if you don’t mind?” Steve touch the old man arm in an appreciative gesture, knowing fore well that it was the words of comfort that his friend didn’t say but showed in his face that meant so much.

“Okay, son....goodnight.” Slugger watched as Steve ambled forlornly out of the kitchen and up the old creaky stairs.

Lying fully clothed on top of the bed covers, Steve must have eventually dozed off as a loud clap of thunder startled him from his slumber. He had lain awake for ages, every time he closed his eyes the image of Dora’s pale face lying on the stark white hospital pillow appeared like a ghost before him. He had picked up Dora’s pillow that lay beside his on their bed, and clutched it to him, burying his face in it, he breathed in her scent that lingered on it. The smell both comforted and upset him, he swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat, he was determined not cry, men don’t cry. His mind went back to Dora, how he longed to hold her, feel her body warm and soft in his embrace. He thought of her in cold hospital bed, she’d be alone and frightened, he should be there with her, he should insisted that he stayed. He was sure he heard her call his name, but it was probably his mind playing tricks on him....but there it was again, Dora’s voice. He told himself not to be stupid; it was just the sound of the wind and the rain teasing him.

He lay listening to the rain clattering on the windowpane, and the thunder crashing in the distance. Suddenly a dreadful thought occurred to him, what if Dora no longer wanted him now that there wasn’t a baby to tie them together. Would she still need him....maybe she blamed him for their lost or even their predicament in the first place? He certainly blamed himself for today, he should have kept a more watchful eye on her, and he should have been the one to train Highlander, how idiotic of him to allow her convince him that she was up to handling the unpredictable horse. How could look her in the eye knowing it was his fault? He knew what he had to do. Unable to lie on the bed any longer, he jumped off, bent down and pulled an old battered Gladstone bag from under the bed. Quietly and with a heavy heart he opened the each of the drawers in the large oak chest in turn and began to pack a selection of clothing from them into the bag. He tiptoe across the landing to the stairs, so not to wake Slugger sleeping in the room next to his and Dora’s, popping first into the bathroom where he collected some toiletries and a wash bag and slipped them in with the clothes. Downstairs he dropped the bag on to a chair by the kitchen door and grabbing his leather jacket off the peg in the hall ventured outside into the storm, he ought to check the horses before he left. Daylight was breaking, but although it was still raining, the storm had rumbled off into the distance.

Dodging the puddles and avoiding the mud patches as much as possible, he ran across the yard to the stables. The horses had been un-nerved by the storm, but with the sight of Steve and the prospect of the breakfast that was soon to come, they began to relax once more. Steve made sure each horse was okay, and with an extra scoop of feed and longer fuss for Copper and Alex, he wandered back out into the rain. Making his way slowly this time across the yard, the puddles and rain soaking the bottom of his jeans, he stopped at the old oak tree. Looking up through it gnarled boughs, even in the half light of dawn he could make out the green leaves that now covered the top most branches. As he stood, his hands resting on the tree’s trunk, he thought of Dora and their lost child. Walking into the farmhouse several minutes later he brushed his wet cheeks with his fingers, thankful for the raindrops disguising his tears, he didn’t want Slugger to know he’d been crying.

Entering the kitchen now aglow with lamplight, he was startled by a hand grabbing his jacket roughly and swinging him around. “What the ‘ell do you think yer playing at, son” Slugger’s face was close to his and red with anger. “I can’t believe you’re doin’ this, all you two ‘ave been through, and yer quitting when Dora needs yer most.” He continued his voice getting louder.

Steve stood shocked and bemused, he hadn’t seen Slugger this angry, the old man could be grumpy and get annoyed but he very rarely lost his temper. He was normally the calm one mediating between Steve and Ron or more often between Steve and Dora. “Slugger...I don’t know what you’re talking...” but he was cut off by Slugger’s continuing ranting.

“That!” Slugger pointed to the bag on the chair. “That’s what I’m talking about. What the ‘ell is that about, Steve?” Turning towards the stove, he picked up the kettle from the hearth and slammed it on the stove. He turned back to face Steve, pausing waiting for a reply. “Well!”

It took several seconds for Steve to work out that Slugger had made the wrong conclusion regarding the bag. Steve picked it up, unzipped it and emptied the contents on the table. Dora’s flowered toilet bag, a nightdress and a variety of other items of her clothing spilled out over the table top.

“I figured she would need a change of clothing and stuff. I’m taking it along to the hospital first thing this morning.” Steve said softly looking at a now humbled Slugger. “Okay!”

“Oh my gawd Steve, I’m sorry.” Slugger began to help Steve as he returned the contents to the bag.

Holding on to a jumper of Dora’s Steve looked up at the old man. “I don’t know which is worse, having lost a child or having you Slugs, not trusting me. I can’t believe you would have thought that I would run out on her, I just can’t believe you would think me that callous and despicable.”

“I do trust you, son and I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. Please forgive me. I’m upset for both of you over what has ‘appened, worried about Dora, and you. I guess I just let the emotion get the better of me.” Slugger put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve nodded, understanding Slugger’s emotional outburst, it came out of concern and love for both of them.

“Oh, Slugs,” Steve sighed. “I don’t know what to do? It was my fault; I should have looked after her better.” He leaned on the back of a chair for support.

“Now look ‘ere, son, you’re not to blame and you mustn’t berated yersel’. What’s ‘appened as ‘appened, it’s nobody’s fault.....not yours, not ‘ers.” The old man squeezed Steve’s shoulder in affection and comfort. “But Dora’s going to need you to be strong, Steve, you have to BE strong for her, maybe even put your own feelings aside for a while. She’s going to be upset, that goes without saying, but she’s likely to ‘urt and angry.” At this Steve frowned at Slugger. “Yes, son, angry.”

“With me?” Steve spoke softly, moving his hand to his face and rubbing his chin.

“Perhaps.....but more with herself. She’ll probably blame herself, looking on losing the child as her failing, believe me son, I know.” Slugger said sadly, a look on his face that told of a sadness long ago. Steve nodded knowingly, aware of the heartache suffered by Slugger, not only of the lost of his newborn son but the death, only months later, of his grief stricken wife. “Yer’ll ‘ave to patience with her Steve, but I know you two, yer’ll come through it and the hurt will fade. Yer both young, there’s plenty of time for a family yet.”

Steve sighed and was able to smile at his old friend. He was comforted by the knowledge that Slugger knew the pain he was going through and that with old man there to help and guide them he and Dora would be okay, even if it took a little time. He would be there for Dora when she needed him, and so as not to upset her any more than was necessary, Steve would learn to hide his sadness and pain, as he had had to do many times over the past years, particularly during his life before Follyfoot, although there had been times in the first year or two on the farm when he had kept his true feelings hidden from Dora too!

Steve picked up the bag and replaced it on the chair by the door, taking a mug of tea from Slugger, he made a mental note to call in at the florist and buy some flowers, roses would be nice he thought, for Dora.

----

Dora arrived home from hospital a few days later. Despite attempting to assure everyone that she was okay, and trying to convince not only the others but herself that she had comes to terms with her miscarriage and that life went on, she had become withdrawn and strangely quiet. At first she heeded Steve’s words to rest and take things easy, but by the end of the week, she was back working in the stables. Nothing Steve or even Slugger, whom she would normally listen to, said could make her stay in the house or relax in the old hammock that Ron and Steve had rigged up for her in the yard so she could be around them when they worked, and not feel isolated in bed or in the kitchen, and where Steve could keep an eye on her. Although more often than not, when Steve returned to the yard after the maximum of five minutes out of her sight, he would find her missing. It was on one of these occasions, late on a warm afternoon that Steve, by now getting frustrated and somewhat impatient went looking for Dora. He found her in the barn, in the process of moving some hay bales, a job Ron had been asked to do earlier that day.

“And what the hell do you think you are doing?” Steve called from just inside the barn entrance.

Dora dropped the half bale, and spun around. “Moving these.” She pointed to the stack of bales. “I thought you were going to make Ron move them?” Her voice scathing, giving the impression that Steve wasn’t doing his job properly or managing the farm correctly.

“He was, but you know damn well he had to go and pick up the feed, as the merchant’s lorry has broken down....and that was more important.” Steve failed to keep the anger out of his own voice. “Besides that not the point, you shouldn’t be doing it, or anything else for that matter. Dora, please.” He said more softly.

“Why, Steve, why shouldn’t I?”

“You know jolly well why?” he let out an exasperating sigh.

“Steve, it doesn’t matter now, there’s no baby. Look, there’s no baby there.” Dora thumped her stomach with both fists. Steve took two strides forward towards her, and reached out. “Don’t do that.” He shouted. Dora took a step back, avoiding his reach.

“Why not?” She thumped herself again.

Steve stood still bemused at Dora’s behaviour; he’d never seen her act like this before. Oh, she could get upset at times but to all tense and purposes she was losing it this time. The lost of the baby was affecting her more than she was letting on.

“Dora, please girl.” He said more calmly now. “I do understand how you are feeling but........” He wasn’t allowed to finish as Dora interrupted.

“No you don’t!” she screamed. “You can’t understand what I’m going through, you can’t. I’ve lost my baby, Steve, MY BABY!”

“What? Your baby.” Steve spoke quietly, a pained and hurt look on his face. “I’m sorry, Dora, but...” He swallowed hard. “...but I thought it was mine too!” With that Steve turned and walked out of the barn, leaving a bewildered Dora behind realising just how harsh and hurtful her words had been.

“Steve, please....” she called after him but he carried on walking. Dora fell to her knees in the hay, sobbing. It was here a few minutes later that Slugger found her and helped to her feet, comforting her as she held on to him.

“Steve.” Dora stood on the landing above the tack room that led into Steve’s old room; her hand clutched the banister to steady herself as she fought the weakness in her legs that threatened to collapse from under her. She had spent several minutes in Sluggers arms as he tried to console her, then holding on to him, he had guided her to the tack room door, where he had left her to shakily climb the stairs on her own. She sniffed back the tears as she watched Steve, a forlorn figure sat on the bare mattress of his old bed, his arms clutching his knees to his chest, his head bowed. She called his name again softly as she walked tentatively across the wooden floor, her plimsolls leaving footprints in the dust that lay on the bare boards; it very rarely got swept now Steve no longer slept there. Standing before him she spoke again. “Steve, I’m sorry, please Steve.” Her hand reached out and touch his leg, he didn’t look up but then he didn’t pull away either, taking this as a good sign Dora sat down gently on the bed beside him, still resting her hand on his leg, lightly stroking it.

“Steve, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that....it was mean of me, I’m really sorry.....I love you, Steve!”

Steve brought his head up and stared at her. She gasped out loud, as she saw his face, his cheeks wet from tears. “Oh, Steve!” She let out a sob as she brought her hand up and touched his left cheek, her fingers wiping away the tears. She had never seen him cry before, not even when his beloved grandmother had died only months before. Maybe he was just good at hiding them she thought, years of orphanage and reform school upbringing had taught him to keep some emotions to himself. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill on to her own already tear strained cheeks. Steve grabbed her hand and removed it from his face but continued to hold tight to it as he spoke, looking directly into her eyes.

“It was my baby too, Dora. I’m hurting too!” He sighed loudly and sniffed back the remaining tears. Dora nodded silently acknowledging his feelings, and allowed him to continue. “I can only imagine the physical pain and lost you’ve gone though, I know it hasn’t been easy, but I can understand your emotional hurt and lost, Dora. I’m going through it too, you know. The only difference is that my lost is double.....” He broke off and Dora frowned. “Why?” she asked.

“Why?” Steve adverted his gaze from hers and looked down at her hand still held in his, caressing her fingers absentmindedly in with his own. “Because not only have I lost a child but I feel I have lost you too!” Steve returned his gaze to her face.

“What?” Dora’s eyes widened and her face drained of what little colour it had in an instant. “No, no you haven’t Steve, never.” Her voice was soft and gentle, punctuated by a small sob. “You’ll never lose me, ever. Remember when you went away for those few months but you came back, like you promised.” Steve nodded, his eyebrows furrowing. “Well, think of it like that. I’ve been away for a few days but now I’m back and I won’t ever leave you again, I promise you that too.” With her free hand Dora reached up and pushing an errant strand back ran her fingers through his hair. “I realise I put you through a lot over the last week or so, pushed you out and I didn’t mean to. I was feeling sorry for myself inside and blaming myself was the only way I could cope. I was so engrossed with how I felt; I forgot how you might be feeling.....I suppose I was angry at you as you seemed to be coping so well, laughing and joking with Ron, carrying on like nothing had happened. I’m sorry! Will you forgive me?”

Steve let go of her hand and spread his arms wide, and Dora fell forward into arms gratefully. “There’s nothing to forgive. Just promise me, girl, that you won’t shut me out again, don’t bottle things up. We both promised to talk to each other, remember. And to be honest, joking around with Ron was just my way of coping.”

Wiping her tears on the front of Steve’s shirt, Dora looked up at him and smiled, Steve returned the smile, pleased to see his old Dora back. Inclining his head he kissed her, shifting herself a little she wrapped her arms around him pulling him closer, their kissing became more urgent, breaking off eventually to breathe, Dora’s hand touch something furry by Steve’s side. She grabbed the item in her hand.....it was a brown fluffy teddy bear with yellow bow around its neck!

“Oh, Steve, it’s lovely, how long have you had it?” Dora smiled at the stuffed toy, stroking its silky fur and fingering the satin bow.

Steve reddened. “ I bought it the week before....you know....I’ll take it back, its only from that little corner shop in Tockwith high street.” He reached out a hand to take it from her but Dora held on to the teddy bear.

“No, don’t take back, I want to keep it. We’ll put on the shelf in our bedroom, in memory of the child that wasn’t to be but it will also be a symbol of hope for the children we’ll have in the future.” The smile on her lips came with a renewed sparkle in her eyes, and Steve knew that they would get through this sad time together and the hope for the future was a whole brighter.

That bear did indeed spend a few years living on the corner shelf in their room, to become much later, a well worn, well loved toy, more often than not to found in the nursery tucked up in the chubby arms of a beautiful sleeping child.

The End

© Sue Hirst 2008