Page 3
Another surge, stronger, made her cry out properly this time, gripping his jacket.
He crouched lower, pressing his forehead briefly to hers.
‘Look at me,’ he comforted. ‘I’ve got you.’
The distant wail of sirens threaded through the October air. Rita sagged with relief.
‘Do you remember that night with Camilla. Just up the hill, there.’ Her eyes widened, recognition flickering through her panic. ‘Vinny and Billy,’ Jago continued. ‘That terrible storm. Freezing rain. One torch between us and those two little kids came out screaming and furious at the world.’
Another contraction tore through her, her face contorting with pain and fear. ‘I’m not a bloody goat!’ Rita screeched.
As the paramedics hurried forward with the stretcher, Jago held her hand tightly. ‘It’s going to be alright, my darling.’
‘I’m scared,’ Rita cried out. ‘Jago, don’t leave me.’
‘Never.’ He took an exaggerated breath.
The paramedic’s voice cut in, brisk, professional. ‘Pain scale, out of ten?’
‘Nine,’ Rita gasped.
Inside the ambulance, the monitor’s beeping was hypnotic. And for the first time since that single cut-off ring, Jago Jenken looked afraid.
TWO
Zenya, Rita’s right-hand woman, padded across the yard in her flip-flops, the October chill biting at her toes. The farm lay in that peculiar, suspended hush that only early morning could bring. Even the chickens seemed subdued. She knocked gently on the farmhouse door.
‘Rita?’ she called softly. Nothing. She knocked again, louder this time. ‘Rita?’
Still nothing. A faint light flickered in the annexe and the door creaked open. Sennen stood there in a huge hoodie and pyjama shorts, hair piled messily on top of her head, blinking like a mole dragged into daylight.
‘Zenya?’ She yawned. ‘Why are you knocking on Mum’s door at…’ She squinted at the sky. ‘Whatever ungodly hour this is?’
Zenya shifted awkwardly, one hand pressed to her stomach. ‘I’ve got a funny feeling in my tummy.’ She looked uneasy for a second.
‘What’s all the whispering about?’ Hilda shouted from her downstairs bedroom, then appeared next to Sennen in a leopard-print dressing gown, her usually perfect grey bob pointing in several determined directions.
‘I thought I saw blue lights flashing earlier.’ Her wrinkled face screwed up. ‘But I was also dreaming I was in a nightclub in Monte Carlo with a waiter who looked suspiciously like Elvis.’
Sennen rubbed her face. ‘Mum normally answers the door straight away.’
A small ripple of unease passed between them.
Sennen pulled her phone from the pocket of her hoodie, still half asleep.
She squinted at the screen. Then she froze.
‘Oh my God.’
‘What?’ Zenya and Hilda declared in unison.
‘It’s Jago.’ Her voice sharpened as she scrolled. ‘Looks like my new siblings didn’t want to wait for the sunroof to be opened.’
Hours later, Rita sat propped up against a stack of hospital pillows looking dazed and completely exhausted after an emergency caesarean.
A tiny bundle lay in the crook of each arm. She stared at them in complete love.
Jago sat on the edge of the bed beside her, peering down at the babies with an expression of wonder.
