Scrap CH TWO part 39

CH TWO 39
Danny has been thundering about in a worse mood than usual since returning from the latest of his ‘business’ trips, alone this time, and the baby’s incessant crying is infuriating him. Orla has tried explaining that all babies cry and its ‘good for his lungs’, but Rosa has had enough and decides to take the child with her in the lorry. Wrapped up warmly and placed in the carry cot on the floor of the cab she considers he will be better off with her away from the poisonous atmosphere at the yard.
She pulls the rig up behind Scotty’s and gets out to inspect his new outfit. ‘Very nice,’ she says, as Scotty winds down the window and wishes her a good morning. Robbie gives her a cheeky smile and asks her if she has put a bet on the big race. ‘I’ve made my selection but I’m keeping it a secret to keep the odds up,’ he says seriously, ‘it will win, you mark my words.’ Rosa can’t help smiling at the precocious youngster’s attitude but says she is not a betting woman. ‘The only real winners are the Bookies,’ she adds, ‘you never see one of them riding a bike.’
Scotty is called down to the loading bay and Rosa moves her rig along. The baby is gabbling away contentedly on the floor in the passenger side. She can see him from the driver’s seat and talks back to him, suddenly aware that she is enjoying his company. She is next to be called for loading and pulls onto the bay in front of Scotty, who has almost finished. The stevedores set to work loading trays of tomatoes from the Canary Islands and the scent fills the air with a promise of summer salads. Jason starts crying and the men stop what they are doing, all eyes on Rosa. ‘What?’ She demands, ‘have you never heard a baby cry before? He’ll be alright for a few minutes; he’s just hungry.’ The men shrug and get on with their work a little faster than usual in order to move the disturbance on.
Rosa carries the baby into the café where Ivy and Bettina make a fuss of the little mite, comparing his features and glancing quizzically at each other. ‘Can I make up a bottle for the bairn please Ivy?’ Asks Rosa. Ivy lifts the hatch on the counter and shows her through to the kitchen. ‘Can I have a hold of the baby?’ Asks Bettina, shyly, ‘he’s a sweet little thing.’ Rosa says she is welcome; she makes up the formula milk, runs the hot bottle under the cold tap and satisfies herself that the liquid is cool enough before handing it over to the girl. ‘Oh, I, er,’ begins Bettina, flustered, ‘you want me to feed him?’ Ivy tells her to sit by the counter where they can keep an eye on her and she settles with the hungry baby as he gulps down the contents of the bottle.
Other drivers come to the counter to be nosy and all show similar signs of surprised interest in the infant, responses which do not go unnoticed by Scotty who eventually allows curiosity to get the better of him. Instead of waiting for Ivy to clear his table he takes the empty plates and mugs to the counter and takes a sly peek at the child. Jason turns his attention from the empty bottle and gazes up into the grinning face of the stranger. Scotty steps back, mumbles something about the handsome little fellow then calls to Robbie that it’s time to go.
Ivy laughs as the rest of the customers leave the café to go about their work; ‘men, they’re scared of little babies, aren’t they my precious,’ she says, scooping Jason from Bettina’s lap. ‘Here, come to Aunty Ivy and I’ll burp you; typical little man to guzzle your food so fast.’ She places a tea towel on her shoulder and props the baby up, patting his back and congratulating him every time he brings up a pocket of wind. ‘There, that’s better, isn’t it?’ She coos, ‘and haven’t you got the prettiest blue eyes, eh?’ Rosa looks at the clock above the counter, thanks the women for their help and reaches out for the boy. Ivy is reluctant to hand him over but Rosa gives her a determined look and takes him back. She settles him in the carry cot and drives away from the dockyard. She parks along the coast road on the way back and takes the baby to show him the sea. She stands with him on the shingle beach and speaks to him of his daddy, of his grandpa and all the ancestors who will watch over him as he grows up. ‘But for now my love, you are mine alone,’ she adds, kissing the top of his head. He looks back at her and seems to understand every word.