Hermione whined and put her paws on Scout's knees, looking imploringly up at her.
"Good luck, little one," George said sympathetically, scratching her fluffy head. The puppy wanted desperately to get into her mistress' lap. The thunder of the approaching storm was clearly scaring her; unfortunately, lap space on Scout's body was a scarce commodity at the moment. Her tummy, and baby Alis, took up nearly all available room.
"Aww, poor baby," Scout commiserated, scooping the darling baby up into her arms and burying her face into her floppy ears. Of course, this only made Harry want his fair share of Scout's attention. He clambered over George, who was trying to recline with his head near Alis, giving his master a face full of puppy feet.
"Oi! Harry! Get off me, you!" George laughed, sitting up. "Jesus, this place has turned into a raving zoo, honestly." But he didn't mind, really. Having Bess and her puppies around was lovely, and had taken the raw sorrow off the memories of Jess and her horrible death. And Bandit had bounced back as well, had stopped sleeping on top of her grave and moping around Farraway Mist. Housebreaking and training two puppies had turned out to be very easy with two adult dogs to model for them. And whatever horrible experiences Bess had in her past, she was a very smart and well-trained girl.
It was mid-April, and spring had arrived in Cornwall at last. Bluebells and rhododendrons blanketed the landscape, and Scout and George spent many pleasant afternoons bundled up and wandering their property with the dogs. Nothing untoward had happened in months, and they'd both finally begun to relax at last.
Maybe the past was over.
"What strange weather," Scout remarked, when she'd finally gotten the puppies calmed down. Every rumble of thunder made Hermione tremble in her arms, and the sky was darkening every minute, even though it was still morning. She shivered.
"You okay?" George asked, turning so he could look up at her face. "You've done that a couple of times this morning already, you know?" He sat up, holding Harry in his lap. "And last night in bed, too, you kind of kept tensing up?"
Scout shrugged. "I don't know. I've been feeling kind of weird."
"Weird? What does that mean?" George sounded accusing.
"Whoa, why do you sound so cross?" Scout asked, hurt.
"Scout, you're about to have a baby, I think I'm well within my rights to ask how long you've been feeling 'weird' and haven't told me, don't you?" George demanded.
Scout blinked back tears, which were ridiculously close all the time these days. It made her angry. She didn't cry, dammit.
"Oh no, oh no, don't do that." George was immediately contrite, setting the puppy aside to put his arms around her. "Sh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Don't be ridiculous," she sniffed. "I'm so fucking sensitive these days."
"So?" he asked softly. "You've been feeling, um, weird?"
Scout nodded, putting her head on his shoulder. "Like crampy. And lower back pain. It sort of comes and goes."
George's brows knit together. "When did it start?"
Scout shrugged again. "It started yesterday afternoon, I think. Last night?"
"So all night long?" George asked carefully, rubbing her shoulder.
Scout nodded. "It kept waking me up," she said. "Irritating as hell, actually."
"And how frequently, darling?" he asked.
"More frequently this morning, I guess," she admitted, rolling her eyes. "It kind of hurts, too, but I didn't want to tell you, because I didn't want to worry you," she finished. She shivered again, and George, who was sitting very close to her, could feel the muscles in her abdomen get very tense and hard.
"Oh, Jesus, Scout, my love, I think you're in labor," George said.
***********************
"What?"
Scout stared at George, her pale blue eyes shocked circles, nearly completely round. "I can't be in labor, George! I'm not ready! You're not ready, either, are you? We're not ready," she concluded decisively. "Besides, it's not the due date yet."
George smiled, feeling so much love for her at that moment he thought his heart might burst. "Scout. Alis doesn't know the date. She's coming if she's ready, and I think she's ready." He leaned in to smell the honeysuckle scent of his beloved's hair, bumping the tip of his nose into her jaw so he could press a kiss into her neck. "Just stay calm, darling, mm kay?"
Scout took a deep breath. "I knew on an intellectual level that she'd have to come out one day," she said, looking at George. "I just never really allowed myself to deal with it in an emotional way, you know?" And her face began to crumble into tears. George could see what she must've looked like as a little girl, and it made him fall a little more in love with her. "I just want to keep her with me, George," she admitted. "I don't want to let her go yet." Scout closed her eyes. "Not yet."
"I know, love, I know," George replied. "And I don't want you to, either. I wish she could stay inside you, safe and warm, forever, I do." He leaned in and kissed her temple, softly. "But then we would never be able to touch her, or see her, or talk to her, or sing to her, either, you know?" Scout looked at him, and he nodded, inviting her to nod along with him. "Imagine, in a day or two, we'll be holding her in our arms, smelling her hair, kissing her little toes. Bandit will be licking her fingers, Scout! Harry and Hermione will be napping with her in the gorgeous cradle that Sunil and Alfred made for her. It will be simply amazing, won't it?" He looked at Scout, eyes shining. "But first you have to do this incredibly difficult thing, probably one of the hardest things you'll ever do in your life, and I have to help you as much as I can.
"So let's get it done, hm?"
Scout nodded, smiling back at him.
"I love you George. Getting this job is the best thing that ever happened to me." She leaned in and kissed him.
"You getting this job is the best thing that ever happened to me, too," he replied. "Now, let's time these contractions and figure out if we need to go to the village yet."
So they did, and figured out that they were still too far apart, and called Dr. Summerville, just in case. The day wore on, and the stormy weather intensified. George and Scout spent the day preparing for the storm, moving wood from storage into the various rooms, putting candles and flashlights where they belonged, and getting Scout's suitcase into the car so all they'd have to do was get in and drive away when the time came.
The dogs could tell that something was up. Between the electricity in the air from the approaching storm and the odd behavior of their people, they were in a heightened state of excitement, even the puppies. By early evening, Scout's contractions were five minutes apart, and the sky was nearly completely dark, with the wind howling around the house, and the thunder and lightning nearly constant.
She was pretty uncomfortable all the time. She felt like she had to go to the bathroom constantly, and the crampy feeling was nearly constant, making her feel like she wanted to be sitting in a hot tub of water. The lower back pain was growing as well. George, who knew her pretty well by now, could tell she was in pain, and felt helpless that he couldn't do anything about it, and Scout felt bad, knowing how much worse it was going to get.
"I guess we should go, then," George said, looking over at Scout, eyebrows raised.
She nodded at him, just as they saw a bright flash from outside, followed by a loud crack, then a tremendous shaking. The glass in the cupboards clinked against each other, and a couple of the paintings fell off the walls.
"What was that?" Scout shouted as the dogs came running. "I've never felt an earthquake before, but could that have been an earthquake? George, do you know?" She looked over at him, eyes wide.
"I've experienced a couple of them, in Mexico City and in California," he said. "They were more violent, and lasted longer, too. I don't think that was an earthquake. I don't know what that was," he admitted. "Please, stay here, okay?" He gestured at the kitchen table. "I'm going to look around." He ran out of the kitchen.
Scout took a deep breath and looked around the cheerful kitchen, and at the anxious dogs, who were all staring at her. "It's okay, guys," she tried to reassure them. They were all panting, even the puppies.
George came back into the kitchen, eyes wide with worry. "We have a problem," he said. "That sound was the tree next to the garage, you know, the really tall one?"
Yes, Scout knew the one. It was the Cornish Elm. The one she'd heard the laughing coming from the day she'd been out in the front yard. She nodded grimly.
"Well, it's been struck by lightning," George continued. "Split right at the base and fallen across the front of the garage. It's completely blocking the path. I got the door open, but there's no way any of the cars are getting out. I'm afraid we can't drive to the village, darling."
Wordlessly Scout got up to go and look, not because she didn't believe him, but because she had to see for herself. She went through the front pantry and storage area and into the garage. He'd left the door up, and she could see into the gathering gloom of the prematurely dark afternoon that a huge trunk and massive quantities of branches and leaves blocked the opening on the other side of the cars. They were being whipped around by the wind and rain, and it was obvious that heavy equipment would be needed to move the downed tree.
Fuck.
Scout tensed, closing her eyes, as she felt another contraction.
"Oh god, Scout, are you having another one?" George asked, crossing to her with long strides, putting his hands on her belly to support her.
She nodded, biting her lips, breathing through her nose, trying to remain relaxed. "Don't worry, George, this is a natural thing. Most of us women can do this completely on our own, right?" She smiled at him. "And women in my family have done this, completely on our own, like in a forest and stuff," she nodded reassuringly. "We bite on belts and shit like that, George, we're used to this, honest."
He grinned at her in spite of the circumstances.
"You're amazing, Scout, you know that?" he asked, taking her by the hand and leading her back to the kitchen table.
"I'm calling Sunil and Alfred to come pick us up," he told her, picking up the landline. "They'll be faster than any village taxi, anyway." He turned away and spoke into the phone, quickly and efficiently explaining the situation to either Sunil or Alfred, Scout couldn't tell which.
He turned back to Scout after a minute, smiling. "Done," he announced. "They'll be here in twenty minutes." He made another call to Dr. Summerville to explain what had happened while Scout continued to count her contractions.
"All good, darling?" George asked.
She nodded. "Still over five minutes apart," she told him. "But I do need to go to the bathroom again," she said with a grimace. "I mean, I don't even really need to go, you know? I just feel like I need to go. Be right back." And she rose and left the kitchen. "Why don't you eat something really quick?" she suggested as she left. "So we don't have to worry about it later?"
George quickly downed a yogurt at the sink, tossing the container before Scout returned. He turned to her when she returned. "You want one? They won't give you food at the birth center," he began.
She'd just opened her mouth to reply when the lights flickered and went out, engulfing the entire house in darkness.
Oh no.