Trying Patience
Chapter Forty-Nine
"Oh, Lavinia!" Julia called to a lady who was walking down the corridor some distance before them. "You must meet my husband. You keep being away when he is here."
"Indeed! I was at the Pritchards' last night. I am sorry," she apologised to the admiral.
He gave her a bow when Julia introduced them. She was older than they were, near sixty, he would say. "Do not be sorry. It is good to meet you at last. I must ask -- were you supposed to keep an eye on her so she would not elope?"
"No, Admiral. I thought she was the last person on earth who would elope!"
"Then I am entirely to blame."
"But I told her I asked you for it," Julia protested.
"Were you not surprised when you returned?" the admiral asked as the three of them resumed walking.
"Indeed, Admiral. We were two sedate and elderly ladies before. Of course they had written to me about everything, but I had not expected such a difference in her when I returned."
He stared at her, but she had delivered that remark so calmly that perhaps she was utterly serious in her opinion that they had been sedate and elderly ladies. A glance at Julia revealed that she did not disagree and perhaps she had truly believed herself to be elderly, even more so after she had discovered about her grandchild. "I will only accept that you might be sedate, ladies."
After breakfast the gentlemen and the boys went for a ride. Even the admiral had been persuaded to go, although he had secretly not wanted to leave Julia. None of the other men would accept such a reason for not going -- since they had also not accepted excuses from sailors who did not excel in riding -- and so he had not voiced it. He could not be the only man staying behind and if it were necessary Julia would have told him so.
Julia nevertheless saw his look of relief when she was as fat as before he left -- and not only fat but also on her feet in the park, walking. His relief amused her, although they had only been away for a few hours. He could not possibly have wanted to stay behind with the sedate ladies, because only Elizabeth and little Julia were still quick on their feet.
There was still much to discuss with her husband, Julia discovered when they went upstairs to dress for dinner.
"I am sure the last thing they had expected was that!" he said when she told him she had requested the Sheppards to set up a nursery in his house in town. "But is it all done?"
"It is. I went last month at their insistence and it all looked perfect. Of course they feared it would not suffice for a child of yours, but I thought it did." She smiled.
"Would you like to go there before the birth or would you prefer to stay here?"
"There was no question of going because you were not back, but...I think the advice would be to stay here because there is so little time left." Julia did not want to be surprised on the road. That would be awful.
He quite liked hearing there was so little time left. However short it was, that time was going to be trying. Now that he knew what was going to happen, he was impatient for it to occur. She had said it might be another week, but she might also not want to make him too nervous, so she might have exaggerated. He pondered that. No, they had best not go anywhere. "Then we shall stay for another while. I am not in much of a hurry to go anywhere."
"Not much, or none at all?" she asked, hoping it was the latter.
"None at all. I told you so before we went to sea. Have you set up our chairs?" he teased.
She chuckled. "To think I seriously contemplated that you might think a child would interfere with our sitting! But I decided we could have three chairs."
"Yes, but would they be occupied?" the admiral wondered. "The child might think we were boring. Sedate and elderly -- which we would have to be in its presence."
"Otherwise it would become like Julia and think everybody needs to be kissed," she agreed with a nod.
"Some need to be kissed more than others."
"Save that for in my room," Julia advised after a look over her shoulder. Someone was coming up behind them and it would not do to give a demonstration here.
"Yes, now that you mention that, I realise they have not given me a room of my own," he observed. "Not very discreet of them."
"That might be because I once told the housekeeper I keep all men named John in my room," she revealed gravely.
"What!" he exclaimed. "All footmen and stable boys and under gardeners too?"
Julia raised her eyebrows as she opened the door to her room. "She never asked me about those. Perhaps she was so sensible as to assume I would not want those there, only you and the doll."
He followed her into the room. "I do agree it is very sensible to assume you want a doll in your room."
"You are a vexing man," she spoke in a stern voice.
"I told you that when I would be back I would bother you forever. It is best not to become too vexed perhaps, although I do think you will end up rolling your eyes in the end or even less than that, selective deafness," he mused.
"Is that what people do to your father?"
"My mother did that, yes. But do not fear -- she did not die of extreme vexation. Her health was frail, but her spirit was strong. I hardly remember how she dealt with him, but I know she did. Did you know," he said, changing to a lighter subject. "The men on board all loved when you spit on me and crawled over the deck."
"I am not surprised. The admiral's wife spitting on the admiral." It would have been the talk of the day.
"They admired how you crawled." He had admired it himself as well and he still did, notably how she had pushed him out of the way without looking at him, determined as she was.
"Certain areas of me were in better view than is usually the case?" Julia asked mockingly.
"Now! Do not assume everyone thinks like you do. They admired your spirit." At least to him they had praised her spirit. He could not vouch for the topics of their private conversations.
"But where is my spirit located?"
"What did I marry?" he sighed. "You will not believe me, but I am --"
"I will indeed not believe you!" she countered with a laugh. "Unless you meant to say you are just as ... er ... associative. In fact I am tainted by association -- you and your pretty buttum!"
Dinner had gone well, but Julia had forgotten to lock her door because she no longer felt such a pressing need to be alone with the admiral. It inevitably brought a small visitor into their room, something she noticed when she woke with cramps.
She assumed she would soon fall back asleep, but after an hour she still had the same problems and little Julia was still between them. It made her wonder how the little girl had climbed in without either of them noticing. Perhaps her darling husband had lent a hand.
"John!" She pushed and kicked him. "John!"
He groaned to convey his displeasure. "What is -- this is -- oh -- it is Julia. I thought it was the baby. Are you waking me because of Julia? I pulled her in."
"Why?" she cried.
"Why not?" He had not even thought about it. She had stood there and he had pulled her onto the bed. Should he have sent her away?
"My stomach bothers me. Could you take Julia to Clementine?" She would rather have Julia out of the way in case it got any worse. Besides, she was not certain she could stay friendly.
"Me? In the middle of the night? Into Clementine's room?" He could not believe it.
"She knows you do not have any designs on her. Go."
He might not have any designs on Clementine, but he was still reluctant to do it. "Could you not ring for someone?"
"As if Julia would listen to them. She listens to you. Besides, why should I wake someone up if you can do it?"
"Why indeed?" the admiral muttered, wondering what had come over her so suddenly.
The admiral did not have to worry about entering Clementine's -- or Julian's, he was not sure -- room in the middle of the night. Apparently there was something going on in there that required many people to be present. Although the door was closed, hushed voices could be heard and there was certainly more than one person talking.
After standing indecisively for a moment he realised only one thing could be going on and it very likely did not require little Julia's assistance or even her presence. "I shall take you to your own room, Julia," he said.
"No!"
"I cannot take you to Mama. Mama is ... busy." He glanced at the door again.
"I want to sleep with you."
But Julia was being bothered by her stomach, so that was no option either. She would not have sent him away if she could stand little Julia at this moment and she might be angry with him if he could not get rid of the girl. He felt helpless. He was not the father of this child, so he should not be the one to solve her sleeping problem.
At long last he knocked on Clementine's door.
"I gave Julia to Julian, because Dr Burke is with Clementine," the admiral reported. "Apparently she is close to ... what is it called?" He climbed back into bed, thinking he had acquitted himself properly of his task.
Julia stared at the ceiling. What would it be called indeed? Childbirth, perhaps. She waited until her sarcastic urges had passed and then she spoke more kindly. She could not expect him to know anything if she was not clear. It might be nothing, yet she hoped it was the same as what was happening to Clementine. "Childbirth. Get your father out of bed."
"My father? For Clementine? But what about Dr Burke?"
"My stomach bothers me."
"Stomach? Oh." He lay absolutely still. "Oh. What do we do now?"
Julia smiled, but it was dark. He had taken care of her all by himself before, but she did not think he had enough knowledge to do so now, whatever he might want. "Ask your father."
"Father, what do you know about ... what is it called?" he asked, shaking his father's shoulder.
Mr. Henson was not pleased with him. "Does the library not contain an encyclopaedia, John? They tend not to mind nightly disturbances."
"Childbirth," the admiral remembered. "In two rooms at once. I think." Julia had not said as much, but what else could it be?
His father swung his legs out of bed. "What did you do to make that happen?"
"Little Julia had come to us and Julia wanted me to take her away, so I had to take her to her mother, but everybody was there and they told me Dr Burke and the midwife were with Clementine."
"And Julia..." his father prompted, trying to find his clothes.
"But when I came back to Julia, she said to get you out of bed because her stomach bothers her."
"And how is she?"
"She sounds rather ... cramped."
"Not in pain?"
"I did not ask." He frowned. "She did not say."
"Oooooh, you got out of bed!" said the admiral, as if this was the last thing he had expected to find.
"I walked over to Clem and I --" Julia winced and breathed hard. "What a circus. No such audience for me, thank you. I should not be comfortable with so many people seeing me at my worst. Can we not do it alone and in peace?"
"Who are we?" Mr. Henson inquired.
"I suppose I must have you here, but actually..." She glanced at her husband. She very much wished he could be the only one.
"But actually I was going to send John away. Women are more useful to have around." He set down his bag and opened the curtains to allow more light.
"I have vomited on him. I think I can bear to have him see me in this state as well. What would you have a woman do that you think he cannot?" She thought he could do everything.
"Keep a cool head, so he may be of use, handing me whichever object I need. Holding up a light, perhaps."
The admiral had not yet offered his thoughts on remaining in the room. He had counted on having to leave, but Julia was eyeing him as if he might be incredibly useful. "Objects? It is not to be an operation, is it?" He began to feel queasy at the thought of his Julia being cut up. "What if I hand you the wrong instrument?"
"Dear son, I do not know why she wishes you here, because I can foresee that you will be of little use," his father replied. "You are going to push it out without instruments, are you not, Julia?"
"It is never going to come out if I have an audience," Julia insisted, despite the fact that her body was already indicating at regular intervals that it wanted to be rid of the baby. "I can feel that. Please do not call the whole circus in. I would truly mind."
"Yes, you are a very particular one, Lady Julia. I had noticed that before," said her father-in-law. "Please lie down and see how you bear being examined."
She shuddered. "I am sure I should not like to be examined by a strange man. Clementine can shrug and accept, because it is necessary, but I cannot do so. Could John not do it?"
"John might examine your teeth."
"I would not!" he protested.
"Besides, we had not yet established that he is useful enough to stay." He gave them a look and shook his head. "Put her on the bed, John, and distract her. There will not be a circus, but you must allow me. I have done this about a hundred and fifty times. And the longer you keep it in, the longer I must look. Remember that."
Julia did not move.
"Grr!" said the admiral's father. He did not say what he was going to do or whether he would be back, but he left the room.
"May we do it alone now?" she cried.
"Julia, why can you not lie down?" the admiral begged.
"I can lie down. It is the examination. Do you not understand?" She shuddered again. It would be awful.
"I do," he lied. "But you must. Please? I cannot help you. I know nothing."
Mr. Henson returned with Mrs. Black. "Any damage to this lady's reputation is entirely your fault, Julia," he announced.
Mrs. Black took Julia aside. "He has done it before. Trust him."
"A hundred and fifty times at least, but never on me! Lavinia, please, do you not understand?"
"I have watched before. Would you like me to stay or would you prefer your husband, of whom -- I am sorry -- his father thinks that he does not even know at which end the child is coming out. It would be very odd to have him stay, but..."
"I want him there. Can you not examine me, Lavinia? You said you watched a hundred and fifty times, so --"
Mrs. Black remained calm. "I did not say that. You know I do not have fifty children. I have watched perhaps ten times when my daughters gave birth."
Julia felt entitled to some odd behaviour. "Ten! And it was all recent -- and his hundred and fifty times were all in the previous century!"
"The reason why men are usually banned from the room," Mr. Henson said to his son with a nod at Julia. "They might fall out of love with the previously rational creature they married."
"Let the lady examine Julia," the admiral requested.
"The lady will not want to. Mark my words. Julia will have to give in and have a quiet little circus anyway. Tell her."
"You are a joy to work with, Lavinia," said Mr. Henson cheerfully. "And Julia too, of course. Why can we not do this every week?"
"Why do you think?" Julia snapped. She was not really enjoying herself.
"Am I no joy to work with?" asked the admiral, although he did not think he was doing very much.
"You were not such a joy to work with forty-four years ago, but you have improved. Do not stop now, Julia. We are almost there."
Two minutes later a little baby was held into the air. "He takes after his father," the doctor declared.
Two little boys were born early that morning. Both were beautiful and healthy, despite the different circumstances of their births. One had arrived quickly, in relative peace and quiet, and the other had taken his time. But then, or so the admiral thought, that was all because they had banned Julian from the circus, although Julian himself did not seem to mind.
The admiral was completely fascinated by his son and kept undressing him. Julian knew better than to have a small child on his arm without it being adequately protected, but he left it to his uncle to find that out for himself. There was too much else to do.
Julia was glad there was another new baby in the house. People spent considerably less time on her and Frederick than if he had been the only attraction. She could only lie patiently and hope they would soon be gone so she could sleep, whereas Clementine had even been able to walk to her room to show her baby. The admiral had been quite concerned about this difference, although after he had slept a little himself, he found Julia was also less tired. She was perfectly fine, she said.
Epilogue
"What is it, Frederick?" the admiral asked as he lifted his crying son onto his lap. The first reply was incoherent, but Frederick was not yet three. The admiral knew he could speak well, though. "Say that again?"
"I kissed Mama's belly. It does not help!" Frederick was inconsolable. "I want Mama to stop spitting."
"Spitting?" He had only ever seen Julia spit for one reason.
"I helped and it does not help!"
"Spitting!" The admiral's face split into a wide grin.
The End
© 2005, 2006 Copyright held by the author.