A New Babby

Norbert

Chapter 26

A New Babby

Do you remember the confusion that arose in Brundy over the two women named Florence? Well, we have two girls in Haematology called Dora Mae, but it is very doubtful there will be any misunderstandings here. Dora Mae Doll (who you are already acquainted with) is dainty and light on her feet, Dora Mae Blimp isn’t.

I am on late shift with Dora Mae Blimp on the occasion of my second night on-call. To say I am nervous is an understatement. I follow the same routine as before, making myself a hot drink and a bite to eat in the tearoom before starting work. I keep an ear and eye out for the cleaners and my Valium bottle handy, but judging by the sounds of hoovering, they are busy.

To my surprise, Dora Mae walks in.

‘You still here?’

‘I’m going to have a baby,’ she announces.

‘Congratulations, I didn’t know. Nobody ever tells me anything.’

‘You’re the first person I’ve told.’

‘I’m honoured. I don’t know what to say. How far gone are you?’

‘Nine months, one week and two days.’

‘What?’

She isn’t called Dora Mae Blimp for nothing. It is easy to see how she could reach term without anyone noticing.

‘Are you married?’

‘No.’

‘Is it GT’s?’ I ask, excitedly.

‘Sadly, no.’

‘Well, I expect you’ll be keen to get home and put your feet up?’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘My water just broke.’

I jump up. ‘Tickle our Lord! I’ll call an ambulance.’

‘We’re already in hospital.’

‘But not the right bit.’

She massages her back, groans and hobbles to the room’s only armchair. ‘I’m having contractions.’

‘And I’m having kittens. You can’t stay here.’

She groans even louder.

‘Do you want a glass of water?’

‘I’d rather have a doughnut.’

‘You need help.’

‘What I need is a vanilla slice.’

‘Too much food is to blame for the state you’re in.’

‘Too much cock is to blame for the state I’m in.’

I shudder at the thought.

‘I’m going to get help.’

I find the “devils of the night” in the transfusion lab, drinking blood directly from the bags (only kidding).

‘I need your help. Dora Mae Blimp has gone into labour. She’s contracting in the tearoom as we speak.’

‘We clean the tearoom on Fridays. Go shaft yourself,’ says Foultongue.

‘I’m not asking you to tidy up. I’m pleading with you to do whatever women do in situations like this, like clean water and boil towels.’

‘Look at the poor mite, he’s kacking his pants,’ says Randy Mandy.

‘Pull my finger,’ says Potty Dotty.

‘If you help me, you can gang rape me again once it’s over. It won’t be so bad now I’m on Valium.’

Mandy walks up close. The heady musk of eau de Twinkle Twat swamps my senses. She places a hand on the front of my trousers and leers: ‘If you’re lucky, I might lick the cream off this time.’

Despite the terror, I feel the trouser devil stirring, but then she takes her hand away.

‘Come on you idle bitches, let’s see what we can do.’

Mandy and Foultongue leave, but Potty Dotty blocks my path.

‘Pull my finger,’ she insists.

‘I’ve seen it before. I pull your finger and you fart. It isn’t funny.’

‘Pull my finger.’

I do so. Nothing happens. She follows the others.

When I reach the tearoom, they’ve dragged the armchair with Dora Mae still in it and set it in the full recline position. Her skirt and knickers are folded over the back of a chair. From somewhere they have produced a bath towel to cover her modesty.

Mandy is down on her knees peering up. ‘I think I can see the head.’

‘Let me have a gander,’ says Foultongue.

They swap places.

‘I think that’s its arse.’

‘If you’re right, we need to get her to the seashore. It’s going to be a beach delivery.’

‘Can I have fish and chips and candyfloss on the prom,’ says Dora Mae.

‘Shouldn’t we summon a doctor or a midwife?’ I ask, from the threshold.

‘Healer Dai’s on-call tonight,’ says Dora Mae. ‘I want Healer Dai.’

‘Do it,’ says Mandy.

‘Pull my finger,’ says Dotty.

‘I’ll phone him.’

‘Order me a pizza while you’re at it,’ says Dora Mae.

I dial switchboard. ‘Could you bleep me the haematologist on-call, please?’

They put me through to his home.

‘Daffyd Llewellyn-Llewellyn speaking.’

I can almost feel the spit through the phone.

‘Healer Dai, it’s Rockhampton-Smythe from the lab.’

‘Never heard of you.’

‘I watched you do a bone marrow in clinic, remember?’

‘Scrofulous little oik garbed in white from head to foot like a ghost impersonator? Owns a mad uncle?’

‘Yes sir, that’s me.’

‘You’ve got the wrong number.’

‘No sir, please don’t hang up. I was wondering if you could come in as a matter of great urgency and deliver a baby for me.’

‘I didn’t know you is pregnant, boyo.’

‘It isn’t me, it’s Dora Mae.’

‘The dainty blonde with voluptuous buttocks?’

‘The other Dora Mae.’

‘In that case you’ve definitely got the wrong number.’

‘She specifically asked for you. She thinks you’re the best thing since Welsh rarebit. And she should know.’

‘I’ll just look in the Radio Times and see what’s on BBC Wales tonight. Hang on.’

I hear the phone go down. I sigh and wait. He picks up again.

‘There’s Songs of Praise with Aled Jones-Jones, followed by The Magic Rhonddabout, then An Evening with Tom Jones-Jones, Comedy Roadshow with Rhod Gilbert-Gilbert and guest star, Rob Brydon-Brydon, and finally Dame Shirley Bassey-Tutu at Glastonbury. She moved abroad, see.’

It doesn’t look good. ‘What about Katherine Jenkins-Jenkins?’

‘If the blonde bombshell had been on you would have no chance, boyo. I does love her, but seeing as it’s just a bunch of Welsh pillocks, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

I hurry back to the tearoom. ‘He’ll be here soon. How’s it going?’

‘Did you order my pizza?’

‘Sorry, I forgot.’

‘Good. I’ve changed my mind. I fancy a biryani.’

‘The head is about half way out,’ says Mandy. ‘I want you to push.’

‘This bit hurts like fuck,’ says Foultongue.

‘Pull my finger,’ says Dotty.

(Out of curiosity, I ask Foultongue on the quiet what fuck means. Apart from being a word used in cookery, it’s a new one on me. She says not to concern myself about it, as it is extremely unlikely I will ever have to suffer the experience. This is a great relief. I am averse to pain.)

Healer Dai arrives with his medical bag. He rolls up his sleeves and puts on rubber gloves for an examination. ‘You’re very close now. Would you like an epidural? That would be the lozenge for your sore throat.’

‘I’d rather have a Mars bar.’

Ten minutes later, she is begging to be anaesthetized.

Another ten minutes and it is over. They allow me to cut the cord. ‘I declare this baby open.’

Mandy wraps it in a fresh towel and exposes one of her zeppelins.

‘No,’ says Foultongue.

‘I can’t help it, she looks so helpless.’

‘Pass the wrinkled prune to Dotty and stuff your tit away. Norbert’s starting to drool.’

It is true. I do so miss my close encounters of the bare loolybell kind. I tear my eyes away and squeeze Dora Mae’s hand. She opens her eyes.

My own are blurred by tears. ‘You did it, girl,’ I choke. ‘You’ve got a beautiful baby daughter. Would you like to hold her?’

‘Any chance of a fry-up first?’

‘Give the baby to the doting mother,’ Healer Dai says to Mandy.

‘I haven’t got her.’ She looks to Foultongue.

Foultongue looks at… ‘Oh shit.’

They both hare off down the corridor, shouting ‘Dotty. Dotty.’