by Sarah Morgan
‘All right, give me directions.’ He slammed the door shut, slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. ‘Where do you live?’
‘Not far,’ she said vaguely. ‘Turn right out of here and then take the first road on the left.’ She felt several wriggly movements from the baby and put a hand on her stomach with a soft smile. It was as if he or she was reminding her that she shouldn’t give away too much.
Jake stared at her for a moment and then his mouth tightened and he reversed out of his space. ‘You look pale.’
‘Do I?’ It was probably the shock, she thought numbly. The shock of seeing him again, mingled with the worry of having to reveal details of her life that she didn’t want to reveal. Suddenly she was struck by inspiration. ‘Take the second road on the right. That’s it. If you drop me here, that’s fine.’
He slowed the car. ‘Here?’
‘Yes.’ It wasn’t where she lived but he didn’t need to know that. ‘Thanks.’
He pulled up and removed the bike from his car, glancing at the row of large Victorian houses. ‘Is this where you live?’
‘Thanks for the lift,’ she said quickly, ignoring his question and taking the bike. ‘And I’m sorry about yesterday and everything. If it’s OK with you, I’d just like us both to forget it ever happened. I’ll see you at work, Mr Blackwell. Thanks a lot.’
‘Hold on a minute, you can’t just—’ He was interrupted by his mobile phone and he cursed softly as he reached into his pocket and answered the call.
Silently thanking the hospital for choosing to call at that precise moment, Miranda climbed onto her bike, made sure that he wasn’t looking in her direction and then silently pedalled away from him into the darkness.
Fifteen minutes later, in a very different part of town, she let herself into her tiny flat, propped her bike against the wall of the gloomy living room and yanked off her gloves.
Relieved that he obviously hadn’t managed to follow her, she locked the door firmly behind her, dragged herself the few steps to the bed and sat down. She eyed the damp patch on the wall with resigned humour.
‘It’s a good job you’re not born yet, hotshot.’ She rubbed a hand over her stomach, talking to the baby as she often did. ‘At least you can’t see where we’re living. I promise to do better than this by the time you make an appearance but, in the meantime, at least I’m saving money for us both.’
She pushed away thoughts of Jake’s spacious, comforting living room. She wasn’t going to think about his fabulous bathroom and she wasn’t going to think about the flickering fire or the deep, comfy sofas. And she most definitely wasn’t going to think about that kiss.
It had been a stupid, wild moment and it wasn’t going to be repeated.
She could hardly blame him for being annoyed. He’d judged on appearances, and hadn’t she done exactly the same thing herself in the past? Wasn’t that why she was in this situation? The facts at his disposal suggested that she’d deceived him and she, of all people, knew exactly how that felt—remembered only too well the sharp, vicious pain of discovering the depth of someone’s deception.
Part of her wanted to defend herself, blurt out the whole truth so that he realised just how wrong he was, but what was the point of that? It didn’t matter what he thought of her, she reminded himself. In fact, it was probably a good thing that he had a low opinion of her. It would stop him pursuing her further.
She gave a laugh of self-mockery. What man in his right mind would pursue a woman who was six months pregnant? She toed off her shoes and wriggled her aching feet. Not a man like Jake Blackwell, that was for sure. He clearly lived in fairy-tale land. He saw a pregnant woman and assumed she had a caring partner somewhere. If only…
For a moment she remembered Jake’s skill and kindness with the women on the unit. Then she remembered the warm, tumbling feeling in her tummy when he’d kissed her, and buried her head in the pillow with a groan. Why had she kissed him?
It was bad enough having been self-indulgent enough to go back to his house, but to have kissed him was unforgivably stupid. And now she was paying the price. Her long-dormant body was well and truly awakened. Her body and brain were disturbingly unsettled. She wanted things she shouldn’t want and could never have.
She sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes in a determined gesture. She needed to put Jake out of her mind. Tomorrow at work she’d be brisk and professional and she had no doubt that he would be the same. Now that he knew that she was pregnant, why would he take the trouble to pursue her?
They’d shared a kiss and now he was annoyed because he felt that she’d deceived him. And that suited her fine because she didn’t want his approval. Really, she didn’t.
By tomorrow the damage to his ego would have faded and she’d be just another member of staff. And that was what she wanted. Absolutely.
Too tired even to take her clothes off, she flopped back onto the pillow, pulled the duvet over herself and fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE unit was already busy when she arrived the next morning. ‘I can’t believe the number of women who came in last night,’ Ruth muttered as she checked the whiteboard and added another name. ‘I’m going to need you in Room 3, Miranda, if that’s OK. Daisy Priest. Really nice lady, but it’s her first baby and she’s a bit nervous. Her waters have broken but she’s still only two centimetres dilated so I think you’re in for a long one. Mr Hardwick is her consultant, but she’s not very likely to need him.’
There was something in Ruth’s tone that made Miranda give her a second look, but the older woman had already hurried on to the next topic. From her own point of view, Miranda was relieved that Jake wasn’t Daisy’s consultant. Not that he was likely to get involved in a normal delivery, but at least it meant that she was guaranteed a day where she didn’t have to bump into him. A day to gather herself together after the conflict of the previous day.
‘No problem.’
‘Call me if you need any help. Oh, by the way…’ Ruth gave a quick frown ‘…she has a doula called Annie, with her. Nice lady. She’s been in here before.’
Miranda nodded, knowing that a doula was someone who accompanies a woman in labour, giving her emotional support during childbirth. “OK. Thanks, Ruth.”
‘No problem.’ Visibly stressed by pressure of work and lack of staff, Ruth hurried off to greet a woman who had just been transferred from the antenatal ward and Miranda walked down the corridor to find Daisy.
She was a woman in her twenties with a mass of curling blonde hair, and she was deep in conversation with an older woman who seemed to ooze calm and serenity.
Miranda introduced herself and Daisy looked at her anxiously.
‘I hope you don’t mind me bringing Annie, my doula. I know that not many women do, and—’
‘That’s fine,’ Miranda reassured her quickly. ‘Actually, where I trained in London, quite a few women used doulas. I think it’s lovely for a pregnant woman to have the extra support.’
‘It’s just that I wanted someone familiar with me,’ Daisy explained, ‘and my husband Callum is hopeless with anything medical. Useless. He’s downstairs in the shop, buying us a stock of magazines, because he couldn’t stand witnessing a contraction. How pathetic is that?’
Miranda smiled and picked up Daisy’s notes from the table. ‘It can be very hard for a man to watch his wife in pain,’ she said quietly, ‘and I quite understand the need for a familiar and friendly face while you deliver.’
She knew from past experience that doulas were there to ‘mother the mother’ rather than offer advice on delivery and she had no problems at all with Annie being part of the process.
‘I’ve read everything there is to read and watched everything there is to watch,’ Daisy told Miranda, and then gave a grin. ‘Don’t look like that. The one thing that the books warn you about is that labour rarely goes according to plan. Annie keeps telling me that I’ve got to stay relaxed and go with the flow. I’m
glad she’s here because, to be perfectly honest, I find Mr Hardwick, the consultant, really scary. He always seems cross.’
Miranda put down the notes she’d been reading. ‘I haven’t actually met him, but I’m sure he isn’t cross. Perhaps just a bit serious. I see you’re hoping for a water birth?’
Daisy nodded. ‘I love the idea of being in the water. I swam every day in my pregnancy. One of my friends gave birth in water and she loved it. Do you think it’s possible?’
‘Absolutely, although we won’t want you to get into the water too soon or it might slow your labour down. And we might ask you to leave the water for the actual delivery.’ Miranda made a mental note to check on the hospital policy for water births.
‘That’s fine. I don’t care about that.’ Daisy screwed up her face and gritted her teeth. ‘Ouch. That’s really starting to hurt.’
‘Remember your breathing, Daisy.’ Annie put her arm round the younger woman’s shoulders. ‘Breathe through the contraction.’
Miranda slid a hand over Daisy’s abdomen to feel the strength of the contraction and talked quietly to her as she gave a little moan of pain and clenched her fists. Finally she relaxed. ‘It’s going off now…’ She breathed out heavily. ‘Why did it sound so easy during antenatal class? They made you feel as though you could cope with anything, but the truth is that the pain takes you over.’
‘Lots of women say that.’ Miranda stood up. ‘That was a pretty strong contraction. You might find the water comforting. Have you considered any other forms of pain relief?’
‘I just want to try the water to start with,’ Daisy said firmly, glancing at Annie for reassurance. ‘I know that I might need something more and if I do then that’s fine, but just for now I want to see how I go. I suppose I’m afraid that if I plan something else, I might grab it instead of managing.’
‘So…’ Miranda sat down on the chair next to the bed and gave a smile. ‘Have you painted the nursery?’
Daisy gave a dreamy smile. ‘It’s perfect. You should see it. Primrose yellow with such pretty curtains…’
They talked and Miranda monitored her, and halfway through the morning she slipped out to talk to Ruth about the hospital policy on water birth.
‘She’s five centimetres dilated and her contractions are strong and regular now. I think she could go into the water if that’s OK with you?’
‘No problem,’ Ruth said immediately. ‘Daisy is a perfect candidate, but none of our consultants like the mothers to deliver in the pool. To be honest, Mr Hardwick doesn’t like women to use water at all, but he’s had to agree to it because of the pressure from women.’
‘What about Mr Blackwell?’ Miranda couldn’t stop herself asking the question and then kicked herself when Ruth shot her a curious look.
‘Jake? Oh he’s perfectly relaxed about it. I’ve never met another doctor quite like him and I’ve worked with quite a few. He believes that women should labour in whatever way feels best for them. Such a contrast from a couple of his colleagues, who glance at their watches from the moment a woman walks through the door and then start reaching for the forceps.’ There was a weariness in Ruth’s tone that was hard to miss.
‘Because they want to get women out as soon as possible?’
‘Partly.’ Ruth shrugged. ‘And I suppose there’s an element of control there. They want the woman safely delivered in as short a time as possible. Some obstetricians are nervous of litigation and are less inclined to take risks than others.’
‘And Jake Blackwell isn’t?’
Ruth frowned. ‘I wouldn’t say he takes risks. He’s just very relaxed and confident and he puts the mother first. He tries to let women do what they were built to do. He has a very low rate of intervention. I’ll tell you this much…’ Ruth reached up and rubbed a name off the whiteboard with a scrap of tissue ‘…if I was having a baby, there’s no one I’d rather deliver it. Talking of which, where are you having yours?’
‘Oh…’ Miranda blushed and placed a hand on her abdomen in a self-conscious gesture. ‘I don’t know, to be honest. I’ve only just moved into the area. Here, I presume, given that it’s the only unit for miles around.’
‘You should register with someone.’
‘I know.’ Miranda pulled a face. ‘It’s on my list of things to do. And I wouldn’t know who to register with.’
Ruth dropped the tissue in the bin. ‘Why don’t you ask Jake? He’s brilliant. The best, in my opinion. Tom Hunter is good, too, although not quite so approachable. If I were you, I’d go for Jake.’
‘No, I couldn’t possibly do that!’The words burst out before she could stop them and Ruth gave her a long, searching look.
‘All right.’ She spoke quietly. ‘But you ought to register with someone. Are you carrying your notes?’
Still struggling from the emotional turmoil of imagining the intimacy of Jake delivering her baby, Miranda stared at her. ‘What? Oh—yes. Yes, I am. But it’s been a very straightforward pregnancy. No problems at all.’
Except for the fact that her life was a total mess. But that probably didn’t count, she assured herself. Physically she was fine and that was all health professionals ever cared about.
Ruth was still looking at her. ‘Think about it,’ she urged. ‘As you say, if you’re living around here then this is the only unit in the area.’
Miranda nodded. ‘I’ll do something about it, I promise.’
She and Ruth prepared the water and Annie helped Daisy into the pool.
Instantly the frown on her face faded and her eyes closed. ‘Oh—that feels completely fantastic,’ she murmured, as she spread her arms out and slid further under the water.
At that moment her husband came into the room, clutching magazines and water. A tall man with glasses and a beard, his tension was obvious as he looked at his wife.
‘So how’s it going?’
Still with her eyes closed, Daisy smiled. ‘Perfect.’
Her husband breathed a sigh of relief and put the magazines down on the table. ‘Can I do anything?’ It was obvious from his tone that he was hoping that the answer was going to be no and Daisy chuckled.
‘Just sit and talk to me for a bit.’
Miranda stayed with Daisy for the whole day, monitoring the baby’s heart with the waterproof, handheld Doppler and generally offering support.
Towards the end of her shift she slipped out of the room to give Ruth an update and found her talking to an older man in a suit.
‘This is Mr Hardwick,’ Ruth said quickly. ‘Mr Hardwick, this is Miranda, one of our new midwives. She’s looking after Daisy.’
The consultant made a disapproving sound. ‘Is she nearing the end of the first stage? I’m going out to dinner tonight and I don’t want to be disturbed.’
Miranda bit back the sharp response that flew to the tip of her tongue. ‘She’s doing very well. She’s in the water now and—’
He frowned. ‘That will slow her labour down.’
Miranda took a deep breath. ‘On the contrary, I’ve often found that the relaxing effect of the water actually pushes labour forward, providing the mother isn’t put into the water too soon. Daisy didn’t go in until she was five centimetres dilated and now she’s—’
‘I want her out of the pool for delivery.’ Mr Hardwick’s mouth tightened. ‘It’s impossible to estimate blood loss in 600 litres of water.’
‘Of course.’ Miranda felt her hackles rise. ‘There’s nothing to suggest that this will be anything other than a routine, normal delivery. The foetal heart is—’
‘Obstetrics is nothing if not unpredictable, young lady,’ the consultant interrupted her again, his tone frosty. He then turned to Ruth. ‘I’ll be in my office for another hour and then I have a car picking me up.’
Without uttering another word, he strode off the labour ward and Ruth sighed.
‘Sorry about that. Communication skills aren’t his forte.’
‘Nice for the mothers,’ Miranda said dryl
y. ‘Now I see why Daisy finds him scary.’
‘Yes, well, Jake is on tonight so if there are any problems we’ll get him to sort her out, quietly and competently, while Mr H. is eating his starter,’ Ruth said quickly, picking up a set of notes and making for the door. ‘How’s she doing, anyway?’
‘Fine. I don’t anticipate any problems.’
She was to regret those words.
Daisy’s labour continued smoothly and as she reached the end of the first stage, Annie and Miranda helped her out of the pool.
Daisy groaned and slumped over a beanbag. ‘I’m going to kneel. It’s what we agreed would be best and it’s what I feel I want to do.’
‘Fine. Use any position that feels right.’ Opening a delivery pack and quickly snapping on a pair of gloves, Miranda examined the labouring woman. ‘I can see the baby’s head, Daisy. You’re doing so well. It won’t be long now.’
Daisy continued to push and the head was delivered but then immediately retracted.
It wasn’t something that Miranda had ever seen before but she knew exactly what it meant and felt cold fingers of panic slide down her spine. Without hesitation, she reached out and hit the emergency buzzer behind Daisy’s head.
‘Daisy, you’re doing really well,’ she said calmly, ‘but the baby’s shoulders don’t seem to want to be born so we just need a bit of help here.’
And she needed it quickly. There wasn’t going to be any time to disturb Mr Hardwick’s dinner. They had minutes to deliver the baby.
‘I want you to turn all the way over and back onto all fours—Annie and I are going to help you.’
She knew that such a manoeuvre might help dislodge the baby, but in this case nothing happened and seconds later Ruth hurried into the room, closely followed by Jake.
‘She’s had two contractions with no restitution—Turtle’s sign—and having her on all fours hasn’t worked,’ Miranda told them quickly.
