Page 146 of Maybe Tomorrow

‘The babies are fine. They’re a little small and they’re going to be in intensive care for a few days to monitor their breathing. However, there are no complications,’ she said with a smile.

‘Oh, that’s a relief,’ Freya said. ‘And Jennifer?’

‘She’s unconscious at present, but the operation went without a hitch. Would it be possible for you to bring some of her personal things in for when she wakes up at some point tomorrow?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good. I suggest you come back around mid-morning. She should be awake by then.’

‘Thank you so much, doctor,’ Freya beamed.

‘You’re welcome.’

She walked away, leaving Freya and Chris on the hard plastic chairs.

‘Shall we make a move?’ Chris asked.

She nodded.

They turned and headed down the corridor arm in arm.

ChapterSixty-Eight

Monday 4th December 1995

Jennifer had been discharged from hospital, but while her babies were still recovering from their premature birth, she was staying in a special family room at Whitby Community Hospital. That’s where Freya found her sitting in a comfortable chair, nursing the twins.

‘You look so cosy,’ Freya said.

Jennifer looked up and smiled. ‘Looking at these two, I don’t know why I didn’t do this years ago and have a dozen of them.’

‘Wow, those painkillers you’re on must be strong.’

Jennifer smiled. ‘I’ve been told we can go home towards the end of the week.’

‘That’s wonderful news.’

‘I’m not sure I want to.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I feel so safe here. I’m not sure how I’m going to cope on my own at home with two babies and no nursing staff within a few feet.’

‘We’ve already discussed this. Me and Chris are moving in for a couple of weeks until you’re settled and have a routine going on.’

‘I can’t thank you enough, Freya.’ She held out a hand for Freya to hold.

‘Jen—’ Freya began.

‘I know,’ she interrupted. ‘It was on the lunchtime news. He released a statement through his solicitor, pleading guilty, admitting to everything, including bribing that bastard Bishop. I didn’t even know they knew each other.’

‘They’d been feeding each other information for years, by all accounts,’ Freya said. ‘A crooked DI and a man on the council, they can do a lot for each other.’

‘And Malcolm always spoke about how he hated corruption,’ Jennifer said, shaking her head. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘The press is all over this,’ Freya said.

‘Of course they are. They love nothing more than seeing a politician fall from grace with a massive thud. Malcolm was the golden boy of politics. John Major is no match against Tony Blair when it comes to the election in ’97. Malcolm was going to be the Tories’ secret weapon. He’s basically gifting Labour a landslide victory.’