By the end of the month, the evening before she was due to see the Newcastle agency’s offerings, Kane asked her – kindly – if she was perhaps being a teensy-weensy bit too particular. Sophy, tired from an unproductive day and feeling huge and unattractive, promptly burst into tears. The babies had kept her awake most of the night for the last week with their gymnastics, but as it was the start of a new play at the theatre she had insisted on going in each day, which meant most evenings she had been dealing with office work at home.
The Newcastle agency were sending her four women they thought might be suitable and that was all she knew, she told Kane through her sobs, but if they were like the others she would not, would not be pressurised into taking someone about whom she wasn’t a hundred per cent confident.
Kane drew her out of the study where she had been sitting going over the theatre accounts and into the drawing room, where he made her put her swollen feet up on the sofa as he chafed her cold hands.
‘New rules,’ he told her gently but firmly. ‘From now on until the babies are born I take over the business side of the theatre. I know you want to do it yourself, but it’s too much at the moment and after all, I have been doing this kind of work most of my adult life. Your baby will be in good hands, and these babies’ – he touched her stomach tenderly – ‘need a rested mother. All right? You can visit the theatre with me as often as you wish, but no more work. I mean it, Sophy. Dr Palmer was worried about the swelling in your legs and feet last week and it’s got worse, not better.’
She lay back against the cushions of the sofa, too tired to argue with him.
‘Regarding the nursemaid, I have no intention of forcing you to make a choice that doesn’t suit. We will manage. Somehow. And now you are going up to bed and I will bring you a dinner tray later.’
‘But it’s only seven o’clock!’
‘Bed, Sophy.’
He was worried, really worried, she could see it in his face, and it was this that made her nod and let him help her to her feet. They were crossing the hall, Kane holding her arm, when the doorbell rang. Harriet came hurrying out of the passageway which led to the kitchen, and on seeing her, Kane said, ‘I’m taking Sophy up to bed, she’s exhausted. Get rid of whoever it is and then warm some milk and bring it upstairs, would you.’
They were halfway up the stairs when Harriet opened the door. They heard her say, ‘Can I help you?’ and then a woman spoke in reply. They couldn’t hear what she said but as Sophy stopped dead, Kane glanced at her in surprise. ‘What’s the matter?’
Harriet was saying, ‘I’m sorry, but Mrs Gregory is indisposed. You’ll have to come back another time,’ as Sophy turned round and descended, Kane still holding her arm.
‘Bridget?’ Sophy’s voice was a whisper, and then as she reached the hall, she said more strongly, ‘Bridget? Is that you?’
Harriet stood to one side, clearly bemused, as the woman at the door pushed past her, saying, ‘Sophy? Sophy, lass! Aw, Sophy.’
In spite of her bulk Sophy flew across the hall and into Bridget’s arms. The women hung on to each other, both making unintelligible sounds which made their listeners wrinkle their faces against the mixed pain and joy they contained. It was a full minute before they drew back to look into each other’s faces and both had tears streaming down their cheeks. ‘Oh, me bairn, me bairn, look at you.’ Bridget was smiling through her tears. ‘I knew you’d be as bonny as a summer’s day.’
Sophy couldn’t talk. Here was her Bridget and hardly any different to what she remembered. The same bright brown eyes and curly light brown hair and not a trace of grey, although Bridget must be fifty-five, fifty-six now.
Such was the look on Sophy’s face that Bridget said, ‘Now come on, lass, don’t take on so, not in your condition. Ee, I couldn’t believe it when Miss Patience told me. Twins, she said. Look, come an’ sit down.’ Bridget glanced helplessly at Kane who now stepped forward, taking Sophy’s arm once more as he escorted her into the drawing room with Bridget following and Harriet making up the rear.
When Sophy sat down she held out her hand to Bridget who came and sat beside her. Sophy hung on tight. She had the feeling that if she let go of Bridget’s hand, it would all turn out to be a dream. Looking up at Kane, she whispered, ‘This is Bridget, you remember I told you about her?’
‘I do.’ Kane smiled. ‘And you’re very welcome, Bridget. Harriet, I think we could all do with a cup of tea, don’t you?’
‘I never thought I’d see you again.’ Sophy squeezed Bridget’s hand and then, remembering her manners, she said, ‘Oh take off your hat and coat. You can have dinner with us, can’t you? Where are you staying? Are you living in Sunderland? Where’s Kitty and Patrick?’
Bridget smiled. When Miss Patience had told her that Sophy was a famous actress married to a wealthy man and living in a great big house, she’d wondered if her lass might have changed – got a bit uppity – but she needn’t have worried. ‘I only heard you were living in these parts today, lass,’ she said quietly. ‘The last I heard, you’d gone off somewhere but no one knew where.’
‘When was that?’
‘Years back, just before I went across the water with my mam an’ da.’