Chapter 23: Loud Enough for Bristol

The first contraction woke me at ten past three on a Tuesday at the end of June.

I lay in the dark and counted the minutes.

At twelve minutes past three, there was a second one, and I put my hand on Rhys's shoulder.

"Rhys."

He sat bolt upright.

"Is it?"

"I think so."

"I'll get the car."

"You'll get dressed first."

He looked down at himself.

"Yes. Dressed."

He put both feet into one trouser leg and fell over.

From the next room, my mother's voice came through the wall.

"Is that the baby?"

She had been in the spare room for nine days.

She had arrived from New York with two suitcases and a knitted blanket, and she had stood on the landing and said, "I'll leave when you tell me to."

I hadn't told her to.

Teddy was on the sofa in the sitting room, and by the time we got to the front door he was upright with his shoes on and a hospital bag in each hand.

"I packed two," he said. "In case you wanted the other one."

"They're the same bag."

"Different colours."

Rhys took every corner slowly, with his hands at ten and two.

"You can go faster."

"I'm not having you shaken."

"Rhys, it's three in the morning and the road is empty."

"I'm being careful."

"You've been careful for nine months."

"And I'll be careful for eighty more years."

"Then drive."

He drove.

The rest of the night went slowly, and I will not pretend I remember all of it.

I remember the midwife, a broad kind woman with a Yorkshire voice, telling me I was doing beautifully.

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Fiancé Chose My Brother, So I Chose My Brother's Best Friend from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.