It had been hours since his mother had declared that the baby was on its way. Ted had been ushered to his attic room and swiftly forgotten about as his aunt arrived at his father's cobbler's shop to deliver his new sibling. He lay now on his straw bed, his head under his pillow doing all he could to drown out the screams.
Outside in the village of Archet it was otherwise a quiet night. The late night revellers at the Mad Badger Inn had long since gone home, there was only the occasional bark of a dog and the hoot of an owl. For Ted though, it was the longest night of his life.
For months now he had dreamed of becoming a big brother. If anyone asked, he would say he wanted a brother. At eight years old, Ted had shown no interest or skill in his father's trade. Even at this young age, he knew that he was meant for greater things than mending shoes for a few coppers a time. He hoped a brother would ease the pressure put on him by his father, and he could be free to pursue his own interests. Not that he had many. The only thing he seemed to enjoy was running off into the Chetwood with wooden swords with his friends Aran Greyfeather the bowyer's son and Holly, the red-headed daughter of his father's fiercest rival, Edward Silvergrass, a cobbler of the nearby town of Combe.
He awoke to the sound of crying. Beams of the morning's first light filtered in through the shutters as he sat dazed. How long had he slept? As he gathered his senses, he realised something was wrong. This wasn't a baby crying. It was his aunt Nora, his mother's sister and Tom, his father. He quietly made his way down the ladder, cautious of the creaking of the rungs. Somehow, he felt like he needed to be quieter than he had ever needed to be before. The door creaked open and he peered into his parents' bedchamber.
The first thing he noticed were the sheets. Should they be that bloody? He was aware enough to know that childbirth was no easy task, but this was beyond anything he had imagined. Caring less for the creaking of the door, he swung it open to find Nora with her head in her arms, leaning upon the bed where his mother lay. His father stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder.
“Mother?” His voice was barely audible.
Ted ran to her side, taking her hand in his. “It's alright, you can make another.”
He looked up to his father for confirmation, but he only shook his head in reply. That was when Ted shifted his gaze to the cradle by the window and first saw his baby brother, a little hand emerging from the cradle that he himself had slept in as had his father before him. When he looked back upon his mother, he had never seen anything so peaceful, so quiet.
He doesn't remember being ushered away yet again, waking up in his bed to the sound of screaming. It seems his baby brother had finally found his voice.
