As the anesthetic took hold and her senses fell away, she heard the doctor assuring her, “Relax now. We haven’t lost one yet.”

Having been informed of the situation, Ellen and Grandad were directed to the small waiting room beside the maternity ward, where they waited nervously.

After what seemed a lifetime, the doors swung open and the doctor arrived to tell them the news.

“Just to let you know, Mother will be fine. As for the baby, he’s in an incubator; it’s too early to say whether there will be any long-term problems. We just need to keep a wary eye on him.”

“So, it’s a little lad then, is it?” Grandad asked shakily.

“Six pounds four ounces,” the doctor informed them cheerily. “And look, try not to worry. He managed to fight his way into this world, so now, all we can do is hope he can overcome anything untoward. He’s a strong little fella, don’t forget that.”

Ellen had a question. “Does Maddy know about the baby being in an incubator?”

“Not yet. She will be told though, as soon as she wakes.”

“So, she doesn’t even know that she has a son?”

“No.”

“When can we see her?”

“Soon.” The doctor was noncommittal. “Give it a few hours, then we’ll see.” He urged them to go home and come back later. “You might want to bring her toiletries and such?” he suggested.

“There’ll be time enough for all that.” Grandad was adamant. “But for now, it might be better if we’re here when she wakes. If that’s all right?”

“Of course. In that case, I’ll see if we can rustle you up a cup of tea. Try not to worry too much,” he repeated. “The incubator is merely a precaution, but you must understand, we do need to be prepared for all eventualities.”

With that sobering remark he went on his way, leaving Elllen and her grandfather to reflect on all that had occurred.

A short time later, they were brought a tray of piping hot tea and a plate of biscuits. “You ought to consider yourselves lucky.” In her early twenties and dressed in a kitchen pinny and floppy net-hat, the nursing auxiliary had a distinctive Scottish accent. “Not everybody gets tea brought to them. Still, I’m told you’ve been here a long time, and things haven’t gone too well.” She regretted saying that, so, attempting to rectify her gaffe, she declared brightly, “But you know, things are never as bad as they might seem.”

Placing the tray on the side table, she went on, “Nobody told me if you needed sugar or milk, so I’ve brought both.”

She left with a sound piece of advice in Ellen’s ear. “I’ve known babies be put in an incubator, and in a matter of days they’re right as rain, and back with their mammy.”

While Grandad poured the tea, Ellen fretted. “I can’t bear to think how Maddy would take it, if her baby was damaged in some way.”

That would be a blow too far, she thought. Even for Maddy.

It was growing dark when a nurse came to fetch them. “Mrs. Delaney is awake. You can go in now, but try not to stay too long. She’s very tired.”

Looking pale and gaunt, Maddy’s face lit up when she saw her friends coming toward her bed, and when they each gave her a hug, the bittersweet tears ran down her face. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me,” she said, “but they won’t let me see my baby. They say the doctor will be round soon. What’s wrong? Why won’t they let me see my baby?” She began to sob.

“Ssh!” Seeing how distressed she was, Ellen feared for her well-being. “Have they told you anything yet?” she inquired.

“Nothing.” Maddy shook her head forlornly. “The orderly said there would be someone along to talk to me, but I haven’t seen anyone yet. Oh Ellen, what’s happened? Is my baby all right? Is it… oh, please, Ellen, you have to tell me!”

Ellen relayed as much as she had been told. “Firstly, the baby was having problems, so they had to do a caesarean.” She gave Maddy another hug. “Oh, Maddy! You have a son – six pounds four ounces. A fine boy – what do you think of that, eh?”

Maddy’s heart leaped with joy, but then she cried, “But where is he? Why haven’t they brought him to me?”

Ellen allayed her fears. “Don’t be afraid, Maddy. He’s being well looked after. They had to put him in an incubator – as a precaution, that’s what they said. Just because he was a little bit early.”

Maddy was fearful. “Tell me everything you know.”

She listened intently while Ellen repeated what the doctor had said. “The doctor assured us it was necessary to monitor him, simply because he came along a little early, that’s all.”

Grandad confirmed Ellen’s explanation. “The doctor said he was a strong little fella to have fought his way into the world,” he told her “All we can do now is wait for him to prove that he’s made of the same stuff as his mammy – strong as they come.” He held Maddy for a long, emotional moment. “Will him to come through for us. Can you do that, lass?”

And that was exactly what Maddy did. When later, the nurse wheeled her away to see that small measure of life, she reached down and touched the tiny fingers, and with all her heart she prayed to the Lord that her baby would survive.

“You’re some kind of a miracle,” she whispered to her newborn child. “The two of us have been rejected, chased and hounded – and look, here we are now, you and me together.” She gazed on that small face and was filled with such love it hurt.

“I shall call you Michael Robert Delaney,” she told him. “Michael after your grandfather who died, and also after the Archangel Michael, who protects us all – and Robert after Ellen’s Grandad Bob, who rescued us and saved our lives.”

She bent and kissed his hand. “I’ll always be here for you,” she whispered. “You’re my special little gift, and you will never truly know how much I love you.”

She gave thanks for being blessed in so many ways; she had such wonderful friends, and now a son. And though she was still fearful for her child, in her heart she had the warmest feeling that the Lord had heard her prayers, and that in His wisdom He would help her.

On the way home to Blackpool, to collect nightclothes and toiletries for Maddy, Ellen told her grandad how moved she had been by his kind words to Maddy. “You took us in when we needed a friend,” she murmured, “and we love you for that, and for being the warm, caring person you are.”

“And why wouldn’t I take you in?” he demanded. “You’re both lovely lasses.” He paused meaningfully. “Being there when you’re needed – that’s what families are for.”

There was a brief silence between them, before he gave her a sideways glance. “I’m not an old fool though.”

Ellen was taken aback. “What makes you say that?”

“Happen it’s because I know you’re running from something,” he confided quietly. “But I won’t pry, you know that. All I will say is this: just remember, I’m here for you and Maddy, if you need to talk. A trouble shared is a trouble halved, isn’t that what they say?”

He looked away, and concentrated his attention on the road ahead; while Ellen quietly came to terms with the stark realization that he had known all along how she and Maddy had fled London, looking for sanctuary. And, yet again, she had been made to recognize what a wily and wonderful old fox her grandfather was.