Page 40 of Blueprints, Battlelines and Ballrooms
What was his plan now?
The stairs creaked.And again.Footsteps thumped through the hall in an uneasy stumble, then Phineas staggered into the room.His hair stuck out at odd angles, and his waistcoat sat uneven.He wiped his palm over weary eyes as he blinked rapidly, but it did not stop them from filling with tears.
Nova tensed against him.Johannes held his breath.
‘She… she…’ Phineas stepped back and then into the room again.‘It’s a she.A daughter.We have a daughter.’
‘And Rosie?’Beatrice asked.
‘She’s tired.The doctor won’t say, but your mother thinks…’
‘She’s come through.’Mother stepped into the doorway beside Phineas, her smile the sunshine that lit their family.She wrapped an arm around Phineas and pulled him tight against her side.‘As if anything could stop our Rosie.’
In a world of chaos and confusion, of loss and grief, where a sniffle could turn into a deadly illness, the words of Wilhemina Hempel were gospel to their clan.If Mother said Rosie was out of danger, then the doctor’s hesitation didn’t matter—it was true.In the next moment, all the tension, quiet, and pent-up worry fled the room as the children erupted into hollers and cheers.
They all clambered out of their seats and swarmed the messengers.
‘No visitors!’Mother said with a laugh.‘She needs to rest.Jean has been keeping herself busy with baking.You can go down to the kitchen and see what she has made.’
The offer of food was greeted with even more celebration than the news that Rosie was well, and soon, the library emptied as the children leapt to make their way downstairs.Johannes waited for his siblings to pass by, then stopped to hang his coat in the room behind the entrance hall.The stairs creaked.
‘What are you doing?’Johannes scolded.‘Mother said no visitors.’
Father froze with one hand on the banister and his feet on uneven stairs.He gave Johannes a conspiratorial smile.‘We can be quiet.Let’s go see Rosie and the baby.’
Of all the mischievous Hempel children, none were as terrible as his father.Johannes checked the hall was empty and then, with steps as quiet as he could make them, crept to the next floor.His father tapped the door gently, then squeaked it open.
Summer breathed into the room.The curtains from one window fluttered in the breeze, even as a low fire cracked in the hearth.Rosie, in a clean night gown and with her hair loose, was lying back against fresh white pillows.As they entered, Phineas tugged the quilt a little higher around her and the little bundle at her chest.Normally so stern and stoic, his brother-in-law regarded his wife and child with cautious awe while Rosie blinked with fatigue and smiled like she had never doubted herself.The midwife and Letitia clucked and chatted to one another as they gathered up sheets and towels into cane baskets before taking their leave.
Father stopped beside Mother, who was standing by the head of the bed.‘You gave us a scare Rosie.Don’t do that again, you hear me?’he said.
‘Stop it, grandpa.’Rosie winced as she pushed herself up a little.‘I was in the best of hands.’
Father kissed Mother’s forehead.‘Not bad yourself, my girl.Where would we all be without you?’
Father slipped his hands around the small, blanket-wrapped bundle beside Rosie and lifted his granddaughter to his chest.Unlike so many fathers, Lawrence Hempel had never hesitated to take his children into his arms.He rocked the babe with the steady sway that he must have learnt at the orphanage, where there were too many cries and not enough gentle hands to soothe them.
Phineas methodically checked the sheets and blankets until Rosie waved him away with a reassurance that she did not need more pillows.The cradle Johannes had made already waited beside the bed, and Phineas busied himself with straightening its sheets and blankets instead.Rosanna’s tired gaze drifted between them all, then lingered on Johannes.
‘What’s happened?’Rosie asked from her white cotton mountain.
‘Nothing,’ he said.
‘You cannot put me off.’Her tone was stern, if weary.‘I know you too well.What’s the matter?’
He held his heartbreak against his chest.This was Rosie’s day, not his, but with a raise of her brow, he knew there was no escape.‘Florence doesn’t want to marry me.’He spoke to the floor.‘She doesn’t want me to build her a house at Number 6.She doesn’t want to work with me.I love her, and I’m certain she feels the same.I had a plan.I thought I had my life worked out.Now, I don’t know what to do.’
‘Why in heaven’s name would you want a plan?’his father asked.
‘Because then I’d know where I was heading.Like you, with the hotels, and the business and—’
His parents chuckled.
‘You thinkwehad a plan?’Father shook his head.‘We had no idea what we were doing.We still don’t.You think we planned ten children?Or that I wanted my daughter to marry the man who stole your mother’s windows?’
Phineas squawked an objection.Rosie rolled her eyes.
‘Work and opportunity go hand in hand with the dream,’ Mother said, her voice rich, warm, and proud.‘Some things can’t be planned, Uncle Yo-yo.And you’ll discover that those are the best bits of all.’
