A Girl Can Dream Read Online Free PDF

on, ‘And she will be unable to regulate her temperature so you must ensure that she is kept warm. Be aware of that and add an extra blanket if the nights are cold. And guard against infection. Don’t let anyone nurse her if they have a cold or anything. In fact, keep visitors to a minimum for now.’
    ‘Little chance of that,’ Rose laughed. ‘Every woman in the street has been on pins all day, knowing the wee one is coming home. They mean her no harm, but want to welcome her properly.’
    Meg nodded. ‘And they have all been good to us since Mom died and I’d hate to offend them, but if I see anyone with a cold, I will ask them not to touch her.’
    ‘Well, do your best,’ the nurse said. ‘And we will keep our eye on her too. So for now I’d like you to bring her in every week to be weighed to make sure she is gaining enough.’
    Meg could see the logic of it but it was yet another thing she had to fit into her week. Rose had seen the resigned look flit over her face and said, ‘It doesn’t have to be you that brings the child back here. I could do it sometimes. Don’t be too independent. We can’t help you if you don’t let us.’
    Meg smiled gratefully at her aunt and felt the burden of responsibility that had lodged firmly between her shoulders lighten a little.
    Rose insisted on paying for a taxi as she said little Rose couldn’t be expected to travel home on a tram, which rattled alarmingly and was probably full of germs. Meg thoroughly enjoyed her second-ever ride in a car, while Ruth, snuggled tight against her, went fast asleep.
    Rose was right about the neighbours eagerly awaiting the arrival of little Ruth Hallett. The children barely had time to ooh and aah over their little sister before they were invaded. Everyone brought something: matinée jackets, dresses, nighties, leggings or pram sets. One neighbour brought a rocking cradle and another an enormous pram she no longer needed, and a woman who had had twins five years before brought a selection of clothes that Meg was sure would fit Ruth because the twins had been tiny too.
    That evening, Meg showed the things to her father, but he showed no interest in either the clothes or the child, his only comment being, ‘That bloody pram is too big for this house.’
    Stunned and hurt – Meg could not believe that her father would keep up this antipathy to his own child – she snapped back, ‘Where d’you suggest I leave it then? In the street?’
    ‘I’m just saying.’
    ‘Yes, well, you’ve said, and unless you have an alternative place for it, it stays right where it is,’ Meg told her father firmly.
    For a moment he glared at Meg for speaking to him that way in front of the children, but he said nothing. Instead he stood up so quickly that his chair scraped on the lino, and then he lifted his coat from the back of the door and went out, slamming the door after him with such gusto that Ruth, lying asleep in the pram, woke with a start and began to cry.
    Meg felt desolation surround her as she lifted the baby, realising at that moment that her father was a weak man. She had hoped against hope that when she brought the baby home he would finally mellow towards her and start looking after her in the way he should. But she recognised now that he was unable to take responsibility for his part in making her mother pregnant, and knowing by doing so he had put her life in danger. Instead of accepting any blame, he laid it all on the shoulders of a tiny, innocent baby.
    The children began to clear the table and wash up the pots as Meg dealt with the baby. Then Terry supervised their getting ready for bed before putting a cup of tea down beside Meg. None of them had spoken about the incident after dinner, or their father’s indifference to Ruth, and she imagined that they were as confused as she was.
    ‘Not looking forward to him coming home tonight,’ Terry said.
    ‘Don’t blame you,’ Meg said. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have gone for him the