Chapter 12
In the hospital Linda recovered. She was kept in a ward, with her thoughts and a few magazines to read. It was thought advisable to keep her there for observation.
Her mother and stepfather came to see her and although she took a disapproving attitude, her mother seemed to find a deep, lost feeling for her daughter. She came to see her often, alone, and brought her things. About the child she said little except that when it was born they must take a paternity order against the father unless he was prepared to marry her.
Betty also came to see her often. She told her that Des would come and Sam, but they were afraid of meeting her people during visiting hours.
Linda felt more at home with Betty after all Betty knew all about everything. But she found a sudden sympathy with her mother that she'd never have believed possible. If only we could have been happy with each other before, she would think as she lay in her bed, bored and apprehensive about the future. Why did it have to take a crisis to make her realize I existed?
The months passed and Linda began to accept the fact that she was going to have a baby, and started thinking about what she would do. She didn't think Des would marry her. Somehow all this business had put him into a normal sort of perspective. She'd marry him if he wanted her. But she didn't expect it.
And in that case she didn't know quite what she'd do. She could have the baby adopted, she supposed. But something in her didn't like that idea. She wouldn't be able to give up the only thing on which she could pour her love unrestrainedly.
Perhaps her mother would let her keep it at the house and look after it. But the thought of her stepfather, whom she'd been able to avoid, dampened that idea. Perhaps she could get a job. She had heard of girls working in factories and earning considerable sums of money per week. Perhaps she'd be able to get a small flat or a room. But the difficulties seemed the more enormous, the more she thought of them, and staying at home if her mother would permit it as seemed likely now was the most feasible solution.
Every so often a doctor would pass through and make an examination. He was always stern, but not unkind and he never mentioned how she was in her hearing. It sometimes seemed strange to her that they kept her in the hospital all the time, but nobody said much to her except that she noticed the nurse seemed to watch her a lot and asked her occasionally how she felt.
She grew big and knew the time was not far off. And one day the pains started so that some hours later she was groaning with pain. She was given an injection which eased the pain somewhat, but the pains seemed to go on and on until it seemed that day had come again and night followed and they gave her more injections and the pain was always there.
Much later, with the horror in her womb which made her only half-conscious, she was taken from the ward and wheeled through corridors. Her last memory was of a strange place with men in white, wearing white masks and the pain, always the pain...
The surgeon turned his eyes to the Sister and she gazed at the still little rubber bag. He shook his head. But they spent some time more in the theater.
When the Sister went out to tell Linda's mother that her daughter was dead, she felt almost as much disturbed to tell her that the child was living. What sort of chance, she wondered, would he have?