"Beautiful?” I said gently.
A sob racked her. I nudged her carefully, urging her to roll over to face me. When she did, her eyes were rigged with the black remnants of her makeup. This had to end. I couldn’t allow her to suffer like this.
“You’re going to the doctor,” I said, making the decision for her.
“But— ”
“It’s not an option, beautiful,” I cut her off, pulling her closer to me. She didn’t protest again. I had no idea if I was doing the right thing, but I would stay by her until she found her way out of the dark.
19
Belle
The clinic in the village was a far cry from the office where I was seen during my pregnancy. I’d agreed to Smith’s request to see a doctor, but we both felt driving all the way to London meant either packing Penny up and hoping for the best, or making me more stressed out about leaving her behind for the better part of the day. I’d been the one to finally decide on the local doctor. I’d committed to moving to Briarshead. Did I really want to go to London every time I had a cold?
Still, it felt odd being here now. The clinic was clean, sterilized to the point of something more like obsession than germ warfare. Nora followed behind me, Penny in her arms, as I stopped to wait for the only other patient here to move away from the check-in desk. It was an older woman, and I could tell by the laughter coming from the nurse that she likely wasn’t here for more than a social call. I tapped my foot, feeling impatient. This was the last place I wanted to be, and now I had to wait.
I couldn’t argue with Smith’s concern. I sensed it myself. I simply found myself disinterested in doing anything about it. What could a doctor do? A doctor couldn’t fix my brain and make me a competent mother. A doctor couldn’t make certain I’d packed the nappies. I had Nora for that now.
She was a bit like having a shadow, to be honest. She moved into Thornham almost immediately after we asked her, on the understanding that it would be a short-term situation. She still planned to attend school later in the spring. But I got the impression that she felt guilty after what I’d deemed the chocolate cake incident. I still hadn’t told Smith about what happened. I couldn’t imagine what he would think of me for breaking down and sobbing into a dessert in front of my business partner and a total stranger, especially over something as stupid as forgetting to put nappies in the changing bag. I’d managed to reason with myself since the disastrous luncheon, realizing that no harm had been done. There had been a shop. We had found nappies. Lola hadn’t quit Bless and, as far as I knew, Tomas would welcome me back in his restaurant any time. That meant, the only person I was being hard on was myself.
I just had to be a better mother. End of story.
“Excuse me,” I interrupted as another laugh rose between the two. “I have an appointment.”
“Bless me, I’m sorry!” The stub of a woman in front of me waived an apology as she turned around. “I didn’t even hear you come in. I’ll catch up with you later, Marjorie.”
“Name?” The woman behind the desk—Marjorie, it seemed—asked, looking less apologetic then her friend. I doubted there were a lot of appointments on the books today, but I answered her all the same.
“Belle Stuart. I mean, Price,” I said quickly, feeling embarrassed to have given my family name instead of my married name.
“I have you right here Mrs. Price,” she said, passing the clipboard. “I just need you to sign a few documents for the NHS.”
“Ms. Price will do,” I told her, taking the clipboard and shuffling over to the seat next to Nora. Penny had stayed asleep for the entire ride into the village, already making this trip more successful than our last attempt at an outing. I suspected it had something to do with the presence of her nanny. Penny always seemed calm around Nora. I was grateful.
I was also a little jealous.
I signed the paperwork, wondering how Nora managed to make it all look so easy. Maybe the fact that she wasn’t responsible for the entire growth, safety, and development of her charge made it easier to just relax and take care of her. I wouldn’t know.
Lately, I found myself checking Penny obsessively to make certain she was breathing when she was quiet. I supposed I’d grown so accustomed to her screaming that I didn’t know what to do with her when she wasn’t crying.
I finished the forms and returned them to Marjorie. She peered at them with hawk-like eyes, sweeping across the lines until she reached the final page. “Seems to be in order. Will the doctor be seeing the baby as well?”
“I don’t know,” I said, truthfully. “She’s six weeks old.”
“And has she been seen for her six week check?”
I shook my head, remembering only now that I’d meant to put one on the books.
“I’m sure the doctor will want to see her then. She’s due for her checkup,” Marjorie said.
Heat pricked my eyes, and I blinked stubbornly against the tears.“I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“It’s a lot for a first-time mom,” Marjorie said, warming up as she looked me over. “She would’ve let you know if something was wrong, dear.”
Not that I would have been able to decipher that, I thought glumly.
“Why don’t you go back and talk with Dr. Stanton alone first?” Marjorie suggested. “The baby can join you after.”
"Thank you,” I said, not trusting myself to say anything more.
Marjorie probably thought I was an idiot. I couldn’t blame her. I’d proven over and over again I was. I took a chair inside the small exam room and waited for the doctor. While I did, I read a poster, describing the important milestones I needed to be watching for where Penny’s growth was concerned. I hadn’t even been thinking about things like that. Tummy time? Was I supposed to be doing that? I’d seen Clara doing that with Elizabeth and Wills, but it never occurred to me that it was a mandatory activity. Apparently, there were a lot of things I didn’t know I should be doing. By the time the door to the exam room opened, I had dissolved into tears. I looked up, eyes brimming, and swallowed hard.
Dr. Stanton blinked once, but that was the only sign of surprise he showed about finding me in this state. “Well, I see you just had a baby.” He said it in a conversational way as he read my chart, but I suspected the comment had more to do with finding me sobbing on his exam table. “And you have postpartum depression, it seems.”
“I know it’s normal.” I swiped at my eyes, regurgitating all of the information my obstetrician in London told me following Penny’s birth. “It’s only been six weeks. I know things will adjust.”
Dr. Stanton lowered my file and studied me for a moment, his brown eyes crinkling under bushy white eyebrows. “Sounds like you have it all figured out.”
I nodded.
“There’s not going to be a test,” he said gently. “You can be honest with me, Ms. Price.”
“It’s just more than I expected,” I said, managing to keep my voice from cracking. “The transition, I mean. The sleep. The crying.”
“Your crying or the baby’s crying?” he asked.