Page 129 of Save You
Lydia murmurs something that I don’t catch, then she’s allowed to get dressed again.I sigh with relief.We’ve got through this part.
“You can join us now, Ruby.”
Lydia is now lying on a bed with her blouse pushed up.Her fingers are resting on her bare belly, and I realize that you can see a clear bulge now.
I smile nervously back at her as I sit on a chair beside her.Thedoctor is bringing over something that I presume is an ultrasound machine.
“So, are you ready to see your baby, Lydia?”
Lydia nods, but she’s clearly tense, so I scoot a bit closer to her.
The doctor rubs a transparent gel onto Lydia’s belly and then presses the tip of the scanner to it.I stare in fascination at the screen, but at first, I can’t make anything out at all in the fuzzy black-and-white image.Dr.Hearst moves calmly over Lydia’s skin and, after a while, the picture changes.It gradually comes more and more into focus and…
I catch my breath.Beside me, Lydia gasps an “oh” of surprise.
I’m pretty sure there’s a little head on the screen, over to the right.
“There you are,” says Dr.Hearst, pointing to the screen with her finger.As she moves the scanner, the baby becomes clearer to see.Now I can make out tiny arms and legs.This is so, so cool—far and away the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Wow,” I whisper, and the doctor smiles at me.
I dare to glance at Lydia.Her eyes are huge as she stares at the screen in disbelief.
“Hold on,” Dr.Hearst says suddenly, leaning in a little closer.For a moment, the black-and-white chaos is back, but then the little bubble comes into view again.
“Is everything OK?”Lydia asks anxiously.I put my hand on her shoulder.The doctor’s hesitation is making me nervous too.The baby moved, I saw it very clearly.She can’t give us bad news now—not now.Lydia wouldn’t cope.
“Ms.Beaufort, may I introduce you”—Dr.Hearst is beaming at Lydia—“to Baby Number Two!”She points to a dot on thescreen.“They’re slightly hidden behind their little brother or sister, so it’s harder to make them out.”
Lydia gasps.She stares incredulously at the monitor as Dr.Hearst zooms in on the second little bubble and enlarges the image.I can’t see anything myself, but I know she’s telling the truth.
Twins.
Lydia is not expecting one child but two.
I can’t imagine what’s going through her head right now.I pat her shoulder a little awkwardly, desperately trying to think what to say, when Lydia suddenly throws back her head and laughs.
Dr.Hearst and I exchange glances that say we can’t blame her.Lydia must be in shock.After everything she’s been through in the last few weeks, I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up having a breakdown.
“That’s crazy.”She giggles after a while, turning her head toward me.“That’s just…I don’t know what to say.”
Dr.Hearst presses a few buttons on the machine and smiles at Lydia, and then at me.“They’re non-identical twins and both well-developed.Everything looks fine.Do twins run in your family, Lydia?”
Lydia nods and shakes her head all at once, still staring at the screen.
“She has a twin brother herself,” I answer quietly for her, trying to suppress the image of Lydia’s twin.James has no place in my head right now.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”Dr.Hearst is trying to reassure Lydia, but I don’t get the impression she’s taking any of it in.“We’ll keep a slightly closer eye on you from now on, and I’d recommend a glucose tolerance test to rule out gestational diabetes.You can make an appointment at reception…” She gives a brief lecture on healthy eating and the next checkups, but I can tell that Lydia isn’t listening.
I study her pale face.She really needs something soothing about now.And I’ve got a pretty good idea of what.
7
Ruby
Smith’s Bakery doesn’t look like much from the outside.It’s part of a row of shops with flats above them, between my favorite thrift store and a takeaway pizza place that’s been closed every single time I’ve walked past.They refresh the front every year, but it gets so weather-beaten that the paint barely lasts a few weeks before it’s looking tatty and unloved again.There’s a sign with fancy lettering in green and gold over the big front window that displays the day’s freshly baked treats to every passerby.Everything is made in the shop, from soft white bread, scones and rolls, to Bakewell tarts, to pies—everything your heart could desire.
“I always come here when I’m feeling down,” I tell Lydia, who is looking a little doubtfully at the shopfront.I go up the steps to the bakery and hold the door for her.The delicious aromas waft out from the ovens toward us, and the smells of fresh bread and cinnamon fill my nose.
