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stood looking down at the baby in her arms. She’d never seen a newborn baby before, and although Mrs Craven had said this one was big, to her it looked tiny, red and wrinkled. Its hair was dark, and although she couldn’t see its eyes for they were all screwed up, she liked its little mouth which it kept opening and shutting like a fish.
    Sam brought in the cradle. ‘I think we’d better warm up the mattress and the covers first,’ Beth suggested, for there hadn’t been a fire on in the parlour since the weather got really cold. ‘What do you think of her?’
    Sam looked down at the baby and tentatively stroked its cheek with one finger. ‘She’s a bit ugly,’ he said, wrinkling his nose with distaste.
    ‘No she’s not,’ Beth said defensively. ‘She’s sweet, and it’s just the same as looking at a newborn puppy or kitten. They all look like little rats at first, but they soon get really pretty, and so will she.’
    What with all the preparation of the baby’s cradle and making yet more tea for Mrs Craven and the doctor, they temporarily forgot about their mother. It was only when their neighbour came back into the kitchen with a big bundle of bloodsoaked linen and asked Sam to get the tin bath from the yard to put it to soak that they were sharply reminded.
    ‘She’ll be poorly for some time,’ Mrs Craven said gravely. ‘We’ll have to build her strength up again with some good beef tea, eggs and milk. When the doctor has finished with her, you can go in for a minute or two to see her. Don’t expect much from her though, she’s had a tough time.’
    It seemed like hours before Dr Gillespie finally came out of the bedroom, though in fact it wasn’t more than half an hour. He looked weary as he stripped off a bloodstained apron and went over to the sink to wash his hands. ‘Have you any brandy in the house?’ he asked.
    ‘I think so, sir,’ Sam said, going into the larder to get it.
    ‘Good lad, give your mother some in hot milk.’ He walked over to the cradle and looked down at the sleeping baby. ‘She at least seems in very good health and Mrs Craven will explain what she needs. I’ll come back in the morning to check on your mother.’
    He took a small dark brown bottle from his bag and put it down on the table. ‘If your mother is in pain during the night she can have three or four drops of this in hot water. Try and get her to drink some water too.’
    ‘Go on! You can go and see her now,’ Mrs Craven urged them once the doctor had gone. ‘Then I must be away to my bed too.’
    Sam and Beth crept into their mother’s room on tiptoe, not knowing quite what to expect. Everything looked surprisingly orderly and normal considering what had gone on here, though it was very hot with the fire lit and there was a funny smell. But Alice seemed to have shrunk; she took up no more room in the big brass bed than a child, and her face had a strange mottled appearance in the gaslight.
    ‘How are you feeling, Mama?’ Sam asked.
    ‘I hurt,’ she croaked out. ‘The baby?’
    ‘She’s fine, all wrapped up and in her cradle sleeping,’ Beth said softly. ‘You’ve got to drink this,’ she added, going closer so she could lift her mother enough for her to drink the milk and brandy. ‘I’ll sleep in the kitchen with her tonight so she’ll stay warm and I can keep an eye on her. It’s snowing outside.’
    When her mother had finished the drink and Beth laid her down again, she caught hold of her daughter’s forearm. ‘Please don’t hate me for this,’ she said pleadingly.
    ‘Hate you for what?’ Beth frowned, looking at Sam in puzzlement.
    ‘For leaving you with such a burden,’ she said as she closed her eyes.
    Beth tucked the covers around her mother and turned the gas down till it was just a faint glow. Sam put a few more coals on the fire and they crept quietly out of the room.
    ‘Does she think she’s going to die?’ Beth asked Sam once Mrs Craven had gone home.
    ‘That will