The Midwife's Secret Child

by Fiona McArthur

  She gave him a level stare. ‘I’ve been a fool once. So, of course, I’m reluctant to go there again.’

  He winced. ‘Of course.’

  They’d finished their coffee and she glanced at her watch. It was lunch time. ‘I have to go. I need to be at work by two-thirty for the afternoon shift.’

  He glanced at his own watch but his face remained difficult to read.

  There was a tense pause and finally she said, ‘I’m off duty tomorrow.’ For Sunday and Monday as well, but she didn’t add that. ‘If you’d like to come and meet Chloe and my aunt, Isabel, then you could come for breakfast at eight. We could go down to the beach after, as Chloe likes to have a play in the water when she can.’

  ‘Thank you. I would like that. Your aunt cares for Chloe while you work?’

  ‘Yes.’ She raised her chin. ‘It would have been very difficult without her help.’ Again, she noted his grimace of distress, but she’d said it more to show appreciation of her aunt than to make him feel bad. ‘Izzy moved in with me just before Chloe was born. She was my mother’s youngest sister and only fifteen years older than me and we are our only family. She’s put her life on hold for Chloe and me.’

  ‘I imagine there is much closeness between you.’

  ‘There is. Very much. Next year, when Chloe goes to school five days a week, Izzy will be less tied and I’m going to shift to night duty again, which I did in the beginning. There’s a young woman from the preschool who has agreed to sleep over with Chloe when I’m at work if Izzy is away. I’ll be home to send her off to school and there when she comes back.’

  He shook his head. ‘I do not like to hear of these hardships inflicted unknowingly on you by my lack of responsibility. I owe you and your aunt a great debt.’

  ‘No. You don’t.’ No way was he finding a foothold there. ‘I love Chloe and there are lots of mothers juggling similar schedules and worse. I get help and wonderful support from my friends as well as Izzy.’

  His brow furrowed at being thwarted. A bit too used to getting his own way, she mused, as he said, ‘I hope to have some input. But we have time to see.’

  She said steadily, ‘I’ve been extremely fortunate and need nothing from you.’

  Now his face appeared bland. ‘Perhaps this is for another discussion.’

  She met his eyes. Oh, yeah? Let it go, Faith, she told herself. When she didn’t reply he half smiled as if he knew it was her restraint not her change of mind that kept her quiet.

  He inclined his head. ‘Thank you for your invitation and I will see you at eight tomorrow.’

  She did need to get away to think. ‘Do you remember where I live?’

  He laughed with little amusement. ‘Before the cliff. To the left of the crofts. The siren’s house above the sea. I remember.’

  She laughed. ‘I’ve never been a siren in my life. I’m afraid your memory tricks you.’

  One dark brow rose. ‘Does it?’

  CHAPTER SIX

  FAITH DROVE TO the preschool and picked Chloe up way too early. Her daughter didn’t see her enter the brightly festooned, noisy room because she sat with her tongue pushed against her teeth as she glued a black felt eye onto a cotton wool ball with fierce concentration.

  Her two dark pigtails bounced as she nodded her head to something the little girl beside her said but her attention remained fixed on her task. Chloe was always surrounded by little friends and Faith wondered who she’d inherited her outgoing personality from.

  Perhaps Raimondo.

  ‘Chloe, I’ve come to pick you up.’

  ‘Mummy?’ Chloe looked up from her work and her face shone her delight at seeing her mum. She put down the cotton wool ball and jumped up. Threw out her arms. ‘My mummy is here. I have to go.’ She glanced around the room as if to be sure everyone could see how special the occasion was. Her daughter bounced up and down at the exciting change in routine and happily gathered her new paintings and crafts.

  Faith met the amused eyes of the preschool teacher and they both smiled. Chloe ran to the teacher, hugged her, and then back to her mother and caught her hand. ‘Let’s get my bag.’

  Faith savoured the warmth of the little hand in hers, the chatter floating up and the skipping of her daughter’s feet as they walked to the car. Her Chloe sunshine.

  At least Faith would get home with extra time before work to get her head together. Dashing out to preschool pick-up just before starting shift would have jumbled her thoughts again and she was jumbled enough.

  As soon as Faith walked into the little house on the cliff her aunt’s dark brows rose and her green eyes widened. Isabel or Aunty Izzy as Chloe called her, didn’t miss much. Yup. She knew something had happened.

  Izzy took the preschool bag from Faith’s slack hand and received her kiss from Chloe. ‘Your sliced pear and milk is in the fridge, darling,’ she said, pointing the little girl towards the sink and towel waiting for her small hands without taking her eyes off Faith.

  As Chloe happily followed routine, Izzy touched Faith’s shoulder and concerned eyes searched her face. ‘You okay?’

  Was she okay? She’d been solid as a rock while she’d been with Raimondo but at this moment she felt weak at the knees.

  ‘Raimondo Salvanelli turned up at the caves this morning.’ The words sounded strange even coming from her own mouth. Spreading her hands helplessly, Izzy didn’t appear enlightened.

  She’d get it. ‘He didn’t know about Chloe and someone at Trina’s wedding mentioned us and he flew in from Florence.’

  Izzy’s eyes widened. ‘The Italian from the airport?’ Then she mouthed silently, ‘Chloe’s father?’

  Faith sank onto the sofa, her eyes drawn to her daughter happily setting her own table, playing house with her milk and fruit on her child-size table setting.

  ‘How could he not know? You wrote. Twice.’ Izzy manfully tried to catch up.

  Faith turned back to her aunt. ‘He said he never received the letters, though the address I sent the letters proved correct. And his marriage has been annulled.’ She waved her hand impatiently. ‘Long story.’ She looked at Chloe again. ‘He’s coming tomorrow morning at eight.’ Lowered her voice. ‘To meet Chloe.’

  ‘Who’s coming to meet me?’ a bright voice piped up. Chloe proved she might be quietly doing her thing but she wasn’t oblivious to the tension at the other side of the room.

  Faith and Izzy exchanged looks. ‘One of mummy’s friends from a long time ago is coming to visit tomorrow for breakfast. Of course he’d like to meet you too.’

  Chloe’s bright eyes studied them both. ‘Does your friend have a little girl?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Another frazzled look at Izzy from Faith. ‘But I think he’d like one.’

  Izzy made an inarticulate sound and turned away so Chloe couldn’t see her expression. She turned back to Faith, her face composed. ‘Well, then. Much excitement.’ She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Why don’t you go have a nice freshening shower? Chloe and I will make lunch while you get ready for work.’ Her aunt looked at her. ‘Unless you don’t feel up to going?’

  That was more of a joke than a question because Faith would have to be dying to not turn up for work.

  ‘I’ll be fine. And yes, thanks, a shower would be good. A strategy for dealing with this, so all will become clear.’

  She smiled ruefully at her aunt. ‘I might bash my head against the wall a few times, so ignore strange sounds.’

  * * *

  Just before two-thirty that afternoon Faith walked through the glass doors of the Lighthouse Bay Mothers and Babies Wing of the tiny hospital and slipped her bag into the cupboard underneath the desk.

  When the world was going crazy thank goodness there was work.

  The ward seemed quiet and nobody sat at the desk. She let a small sigh of relief escape her. It would be nice to settle i
nto the shift before the ward focused on an impending birth but she knew what to do regardless when she was here. Unlike in her social life at the moment. She could hear a baby crying so at least they had inpatients. She didn’t want it so quiet she needed to work elsewhere in the hospital, which they sometimes did between rushes of babies. She didn’t have the head space for that today.

  Today there had been too many upheavals in her peaceful private world and the question marks for the future unsettled her in a way she hadn’t felt for many years.

  Raimondo had the knack of that.

  ‘Hey there, Faith.’

  Ellie appeared from one of the side rooms on the ward with a grizzling baby tucked under her arm. The manager of the ward, and sometimes the whole hospital, Ellie preferred when she could work as a hands-on midwife, like today.

  ‘Hi, Ellie.’ Her boss looked so happy. ‘How’s your day been?’ Not like hers, that was for sure.

  ‘Excellent. Apart from this baby, who seems to have missed the rules on settling after a feed—but I have the technology—new nappy.’

  She looked calm and content carrying the little football baby under her arm, the baby’s neck securely supported by her cupped hand. She smiled a warm welcome.

  Faith tried to smile back but a sudden unexpected fear that she’d never be like Ellie, with a man who worshipped her and a proper family, assailed her. A fear she’d never had before, and shouldn’t have now, made her realise how much Raimondo had punctured her serene balloon of existence she’d floated in until now.

  Her boss was very, very happily married to an obstetrician. Sam consulted at their regional referral centre and not Lighthouse Bay, but he did emergency calls when needed here. Having Sam in the wings was one of the reasons their birth rate had risen so much.

  Faith’s mouth opened. ‘Chloe’s dad turned up this morning at the caves.’ She slapped a hand over her mouth. She had not meant to blurt that out. What was wrong with her?

  Except for a slight pucker of her forehead, Ellie’s demeanour didn’t change. ‘I have supreme confidence in your good sense, Faith. Come into the nursery while I change this poo-bottomed boy. Then I’ll give you a handover of our one patient and you can tell me all about “him”.’

  Faith followed her into the nursery, a space with wide sun-filled windows, a soft chair for breastfeeding mothers and tall benches for dressing and bathing babies. Ellie flipped out a fresh bunny rug and gently eased the little boy down until his head was resting on a folded cloth and began to unwrap him. Faith reached for the cleaning wipes to help and then, noting the disaster uncovered, instead wet a cloth nappy and handed it to Ellie, who laughed.

  ‘Yep. I think we need the big guns to fix this mess.’

  She smiled down at the baby as she swiftly righted the world. ‘So, this is Jonathon, born this morning at seven-thirty to Maurine McKay.’

  Faith felt the smile as it stretched her face. ‘Little Maurine?’ Maurine barely topped a metre and half tall, though her body was all curves and perfectly proportioned. ‘How cool.’ Faith shared her midwifery case load with Ellie so she knew Maurine well. ‘And was it as easy for her as her last one? She was worried.’

  ‘He flew out,’ Ellie said. ‘She was here about an hour, not saying much, then she did that thing she did with you last time. You know. The stare. And lay down and had him. The woman is a marvel.’

  Faith shook her head in awe. ‘Some mums are just designed to have babies. Probably helps that her husband is not much bigger than she is.’

  ‘That too, maybe. Maurine’s well, no damage, no extra blood loss, and this young man weighed three thousand grams so a nice size for her.’

  Faith calculated quickly. ‘About six pound six? Her biggest yet, then. Can’t wait to congratulate her.’ Faith could feel the tensions of the day falling away from her. This was the world she loved and she felt the calming of her lost equilibrium as it settled over her.

  ‘She’s looking forward to seeing you.’ Ellie rewrapped the now clean baby. ‘So. He’s fed twice already, his temperature and respirations are normal and he’s going to settle for a good sleep now.’ This last was said firmly to the baby, who lay quietly with big dark blue eyes gazing steadily at Ellie.

  Ellie picked him up. ‘I’ll take him back to mum and you pop the kettle on. Then you can tell me about your interesting day.’

  * * *

  By the time Ellie had left the ward and Faith had settled Jonathon again with his boisterous siblings and parents in Maurine’s room, she was feeling like herself.

  Okay. It had been unexpected—she snorted at that and the memory of her first greeting to Raimondo—and decided there was nothing she could do so she would take the benefits provided.

  Mentally she ticked them off.

  At least her daughter would remember a man called Raimondo when she was asked about her father.

  Chloe would have some rapport to build on if she went to meet him one day in Italy when she was grown.

  Raimondo could write to Chloe and possibly, though she was still thinking about this, contribute to Chloe’s senior school or university in later life if he wished—because education was the best gift to give anyone.

  She had to admit Raimondo still seemed the lovely man she’d become briefly infatuated with and, yes, she did feel she could trust him with contact with Chloe from the little she’d seen today. But that didn’t mean she would.

  She wasn’t so sure she could trust herself, so she would be vigilant in guarding her good sense and her heart.

  They’d do Christmas cards and maybe phone calls on birthdays—surely he could manage that, though she wasn’t sure, and in this initial visit he’d be here for Chloe’s birthday at least. Faith would put out the albums of Chloe’s childhood for him to see.

  She sat back. Yes. All ordered in her head nicely.

  Chloe would probably enjoy showing Raimondo her photos over and over again. Faith wasn’t so sure she was okay with some of the birth ones but, then again, he had seen her naked before.

  Oh, my goodness. Quickly she picked up a pen and began to write out the diet list.

  The sound of a car arriving in the driveway outside the ward had her out of her seat. Someone in labour?

  Then she saw the sleek black Mustang. What the heck...?

  Raimondo’s big form climbed out and strode to the passenger seat and now Faith could see the shape of another person through the darkly tinted windows. She proved to be a woman and heavily pregnant. Where had Raimondo found a pregnant woman?

  Faith grasped the handles of the wheelchair they left tucked handily behind the corner to the birthing rooms and pushed it towards the now opening door. The woman limped in on an obviously tender right leg and held her stomach.

  Yep. In labour. Raimondo had brought her to the right place. His words carried. ‘Traffic accident.’

  What traffic? Faith thought, but she hurried over. The woman leaned on the door as she waited for Faith to park the chair next to her.

  ‘Can you sit down?’ Faith held the chair and Raimondo helped her settle into the chair. ‘I’m Faith, the midwife on duty.’

  ‘Cynthia Day. My husband is hurt and going in the ambulance. This man said he was a doctor and thought I should come here. Just until the ambulance is ready to leave and can take me too.’ She glanced at Raimondo ruefully. ‘I’ve had a few labour pains.’

  ‘I saw the accident and called the ambulance,’ Raimondo said. ‘Her husband is stable but there may be a delay before they extricate him and are ready to leave. It seemed better to bring Cynthia to be checked before transfer.’

  She looked at him. ‘Yes. Good thinking. There’s at least an hour’s road trip in the ambulance so very sensible.’ Then to the woman, ‘When is your baby due?’

  ‘Four weeks tomorrow.’

  Technically premature, Faith thought, but not perilous. �
�We’ll check you both out and have the ambulance call here to pick you up. I’ll pop you through into the assessment room, which is where we have our babies here. Is that okay?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Faith turned the chair and began to push it the other way towards the birthing rooms. Raimondo followed and Faith allowed him for the moment. It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to hospitals and she’d keep an extra pair of hands until she could get help.

  ‘Have you been here before?’ She spoke from behind the woman as her brain sorted priorities.

  She didn’t recognise the woman and thought she knew all the ladies booked in to give birth at Lighthouse Bay. So medical or obstetric history might not be available.

  ‘No. We’re having the baby in Sydney.’

  ‘That’s fine. We can get your notes from there.’ She’d have them emailed through once Cynthia had signed the release of information form. Or the supervisor could arrange all that because Faith would be busy on her own.

  Cynthia sighed. ‘We were going home after visiting relatives when my husband took a funny turn at the wheel. I grabbed the steering wheel but it was too late. We ran into a low wall and the front of the car crumpled in, making it difficult to get him out.’

  Unlucky. And scary as a risk for possible hidden pregnancy-related trauma. Risk even from the sudden stop. ‘Did you hit your stomach?’

  ‘No. The seat belt jerked me when we hit, but that’s all.’

  Faith nodded to herself. She would have to watch baby for any signs of distress which could be a shearing bleed from the placenta. ‘Was the car going fast when you hit?’

  ‘No. I think John must have known something because he hit the brake just before he went unconscious.’ She swivelled her head and looked at Raimondo. ‘I’m so worried about him. When can you ring and find out how he is?’

  ‘Dr Salvanelli will be able to do that soon.’ She knew there was a good reason she’d subconsciously wanted Raimondo to stay. He’d been helpful already.