The Innkeeper's Daughter by Val Wood

damp in the morning she would have to hang them outside yet again. She had asked Nell to set the table ready for when Joe and William came home; their meal, tea, as her mother always called it, was in the side oven keeping warm and they would all eat before opening the front door of the inn.
    ‘Bella,’ her mother said again. ‘It’s my time.’
    ‘What? Sorry? Time for what?’ She wasn’t really listening, but only thinking of what else there was to do; Joe and William would serve the customers while they were open, but after they had closed it would be left to her to clear away the dirty glasses and wash them, clean the counter and empty and wash the slop tray beneath the pumps, sweep the floor of tobacco ash and dirt from the customers’ boots, riddle the fire, and put up the guard. Then she would have to turn down the lamps and check that there were no candles burning in the smaller rooms. These rooms, the snugs, William called them, she cleaned out every morning, for lit only by candlelight she never felt comfortable, disturbed always by memories of her father.
    ‘Time,’ her mother repeated. ‘For birthing.’
    ‘For birthing?’ Bella mouthed the words. ‘Oh! You mean—’
    ‘What else?’ her mother said sharply. ‘Go find Nell and tell her to ask Mrs Simmonds to come.’
    ‘Don’t you want ’doctor?’ Bella licked her lips. ‘I can get Joe or William to—’
    ‘No. I don’t want any doctor.’ Her mother stepped back from the doorway to let Bella through. ‘Stupid girl; course I don’t want any man here. Why would I? Ada Simmonds knows what to do better’n any doctor.’
    Bella put down the wash basket and kicked off her rubber boots, then ran her fingers through her tangled hair. She hadn’t been expecting this yet.
    ‘Are you sure, Ma?’ she said breathlessly.
    ‘Course I’m sure,’ her mother said abruptly. ‘Haven’t I had four bairns already? Don’t I know ’signs? Anyway,’ she said a trifle more tolerantly, as if she had just realized that Bella wouldn’t have known, ‘bairns come when they’re good and ready and this one’s ready now.’
    ‘Erm, had you better come in and sit down? Where is Nell? Has she laid ’table like I asked?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ her mother said wearily and turned towards the kitchen. ‘I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t answered.’
    Bella went to the bottom of the stairs and called up. ‘Nell! Nell! Come down now. You’re needed for an errand. Be quick.
    ‘She’s not there and she’s not outside,’ she said, coming back. ‘I’d have seen her. And she hasn’t done ’table! She’s gone off somewhere. Should you be upstairs, Ma? Shall I take you up before I run for Mrs Simmonds myself?’
    ‘There’s no need to run.’ Her mother lowered herself on to a kitchen chair. ‘It won’t be here for hours, mebbe not even until morning.’
    ‘Oh! As long as that.’ Bella didn’t know how long it took. She had watched lambs being born, and puppies and kittens, and they seemed to pop out very quickly. She didn’t remember Nell being born, being not much more than a baby herself at the time. ‘So – do you want Mrs Simmonds to come now?’
    ‘I want her to know that things are happening,’ her mother explained slowly and carefully. ‘If she comes now, or at least as soon as she can, then she’ll be able to say how long it’ll tek. They have a way of telling,’ she added.
    ‘So will you be all right on your own while I run down to ’village? If I see Joe or William I’ll ask them to go and then I’ll come straight back.’
    ‘Yes.’ Her mother arched her back slightly as if it ached and put her hand there. ‘I’ll be all right. And when you come back mebbe you’ll wrap up a hot brick to put against my back.’
    ‘I’ll heat it now.’ Bella went to the cupboard where they kept a clean brick especially for the purpose, wrapped it in a piece of old sheet and put it in the oven. ‘It’ll be warm when I come