A Very Special Midwife

by Gill Sanderson

  'I'm taking this,' he said. 'In fact, I'm stealing it.' He pointed to a telephone. 'Why don't you phone the police and report me?'

  The man's face twisted with fear and anger. 'You want to be careful. You might think that—'

  Mike seized one of Brent's arms and hauled him upright. 'I've wasted enough time on you. Just go. And remember what I said about a security officer.' Then he frogmarched the man to the ward entrance and heaved him out.

  Jenny watched him as he stood in the doorway, making sure that the man walked away. With one hand he was stroking the scar that ran down his cheek. She wondered if at times it pained him. But there were other things to consider.

  'Was that entirely wise?' she asked him when he returned. She felt that her heartbeat was just returning to normal. The scene she had just witnessed might have been necessary, but it had been ugly.

  Mike shrugged. 'Was it wise? Possibly not. But it was satisfying.'

  'What was in the white packet and how did you know it was there?'

  'It was cocaine. He left his wife for a while and went to the toilet. He must have sniffed it there. When he came back he was hyperactive and abusive. And I noticed that when we were arguing he kept on feeling in that pocket as if there was something there that would give him strength.'

  Jenny sighed. 'You know, sometimes it's necessary but it's never a good idea to argue with fathers if you can help it. They tend to take out their anger on their wives. So what are we going to do about Mrs Brent?'

  He looked at her. 'You already had your suspicions about that man, didn't you? I was talking to his wife, just casually, when he came in. And I saw the look in her eyes—fear. You'd have spotted that.'

  'I was going to get in touch with Social Services,' said Jenny. 'Now we both can make a report. But we'll talk about that later.'

  She thought for a minute. 'But now there's something else I want to talk to you about. At times we all get angry at patients and relations, and sometimes perhaps we're entitled to show how angry we are. But just then I thought you might be going a bit too far with that man. For a moment he was terrified of you.' She paused, and then said, honestly, 'In fact, I was a bit frightened of you myself.'

  He looked dismayed. 'I didn't want that. Perhaps I overreacted but I'm afraid that casual drug use is something I feel a bit strongly about.'

  But Jenny was thinking; something had just struck her. 'You've just come back from South America,' she said. 'Did you spend much time in Colombia?'

  Now his expression was guarded. 'I spent some time there.'

  'Colombia, where most of the world's cocaine comes from? The drug that you apparently know so much about and hate so much?'

  'Yes, that Colombia,' he said.

  Mike seemed to be getting agitated again. Jenny watched as he lifted his hand, stroked the scar on his cheek as he had done before. And Jenny made another wild guess.

  'Is that where your cheek was slashed?'

  And suddenly, mysteriously he was calm again. 'That's right.' He smiled. 'Clever of you to guess. No one in this country knows anything about it. I tend to keep it a secret. But if you want, I'll tell you.'

  She did want to know. But she realised that if he told her, if they shared the intimacy of a secret, it would bring them closer together. Did she want that? Did she want to be closer to this man?

  'I'd like you to tell me,' she said after a pause.

  They sat together in the garden of the Setchell Arms, a pub and restaurant a couple of miles from the hospital. Mike had said that the story would take too long to tell in a busy ward, and they were bound to be interrupted if they sat together in her room. Besides, they were both busy.

  So he'd asked her if she knew of anywhere pleasant where they could share a quiet drink after the day's work was done. She'd thought and suggested this place. It was far enough from the hospital for her to be reasonably certain that they wouldn't be seen by other hospital staff.

  'Could we perhaps stay there for a meal?' he had asked.

  She had refused. 'Sorry, got far too much work to do at home.' It was partly true.

  So now they sat facing each other, he with a pint of beer, she with a glass of iced orange.

  'You're touching your scar again,' she said to him as his hand strayed to his face. 'I've only seen you do that when you're angry or upset.'

  'You're bright, Jenny. There's not a lot gets past you, is there? I've seen you with your students—do they know just how well you know them?'

  She smiled briefly. 'I try to keep on top of what I'm doing. Knowing how my new midwives are going to react is an important part of my job. And knowing how the people who lecture for me are likely to react—I need to think about that too.'

  'I see. So you are here to have me explain why I'm so anti-drugs? Isn't nearly every doctor and nurse against them? Sue says that work in A and E could be halved if there were no addicts about.'

  'Mike,' she said, 'you're avoiding the question. You came here to tell me something.'

  He nodded. 'I'm trying to decide what to tell you, what's not really relevant.'

  'Think of taking a medical history,' she said. 'Everything and anything may be relevant.'

  'Very true. All right, I'll tell you everything. Some bits you might not like.'

  She had to smile as his hand reached for his cheek again. He saw her smile, realised what he was doing and slammed his hand on the table.

  'I'll cure myself of it,' he said.

  'Have you thought about having plastic surgery? For that matter, why didn't you have it dealt with when you were first hurt?'

  'Part of the story I'll tell you now.' He looked up, his eyes distant, and she guessed he wasn't seeing the lawns and shrubberies of the pub, but the forests of a distant country. And his voice altered, too, became reflective, as if he was reliving past events and wondering how they had occurred.

  'About two years ago the charity I worked for asked—invited—me to work for six months in the highlands of Colombia. They wanted someone to run local clinics, perhaps give some basic training to people who wanted to become midwives. The only trouble was they couldn't guarantee my safety. No one knew who controlled the area—government forces or the local guerrillas who grew and exported the cocaine. But the charity thought that if I kept a low profile, if I was seen just to be helping the locals and their babies, I ought to be OK.'

  'What about the local medical service?' Jenny asked. 'Weren't they competent?'

  'The few who were left were competent, grossly overworked and had to manage with the minimum of equipment. I worked with them, got to like them.'

  'Did you speak the language?'

  'I could make myself understood—just. Not in the local native languages, of course, but I picked up enough to get by. And I was assigned a local translator who would also be my guide, drive me round and see that I got to work.'

  His eyes lost their dreamy look as they focussed on Jenny.

  'Her name was Inez Sanchez, she was three years younger than me and as beautiful as only those high-altitude women can be.' He paused. 'And I fell in love with her.'

  'You did what?' Jenny looked at him, appalled. This wasn't the story she wanted to hear.

  'I fell in love with her. I thought she was the woman I'd spent my life looking for; the one I wanted to marry. But for the time being we had work to do. There were babies and mothers dying who didn't need to die. So they came first.'

  'But did you... did the pair of you...?' Jenny couldn't decide how to ask.

  'Did we sleep together? Yes.'

  Jenny didn't know how she felt. He had fallen in love with a woman, had wanted to marry her and slept with her. Of course it was no concern of hers; she was entirely indifferent to his actions. Or was she? Why did she feel irritated at this confession—even feel that she had been let down?

  'I thought you were going to tell me how your cheek got slashed,' she said. 'I didn't expect intimate details of your love life.'

  Then she looked up to see him smi
ling at her, knew that he had guessed the cause of her irritation. And that made her angrier than ever.

  'My love life and my cheek got mixed up,' he said.

  Then she saw his face change, his previous mocking attitude disappear. She couldn't make out what he was feeling—angry, or bitter, or even sad. Once again he stroked the scar and this time she said nothing.

  'I'd done a hard day's work and was lying in my room. I needed to rest. Then Inez came round, apparently very distressed. She said that she'd been visiting old family friends, and a young girl, the wife of one of the sons, had been in labour for twelve hours. There seemed to be complications, would I mind going to see her? It was a lot to ask, but they knew that if they brought her round to the local hospital it would be hours before she could be attended to. So I said I'd bring my medical kit and come along.'

  'Go on,' Jenny said when he paused. The story was catching her interest. She could wonder or worry about Inez later.

  'Inez drove me there. I was surprised at the distance from the town that we had to travel. I was also surprised at the direction, the area was suspected of being bandit country. Usually if we went that way we had an army escort. But Inez seemed confident enough.

  'Then we came to this half-derelict farmhouse. We drove into the yard and I was surprised when three alert young men came to check us, they all carried guns. But when they saw Inez, they relaxed. I was a bit put out, though. I asked Inez what was going on and she said not to worry, all would be revealed.

  'We went into the farmhouse and saw more young men with guns. And we were taken to a bedroom to see my patient. But it wasn't a young girl in labour. It was a man with a bullet hole in his chest which had become infected. He was going to die. And when I held the light to his face, I recognised him; his face was on every second poster in the town. He was a guerrilla leader, controlled most of the cocaine producing fields around for miles.'

  By now Jenny couldn't hide her fascination. 'So there was no pregnant daughter-in-law?'

  'No. I asked Inez what was happening, she said she'd explain. But I was a doctor, first I had to see to my patient. She knew enough medicine to realise that only urgent medical care would save him. And if he died I would pay for it. When I suggested that a hospital would be the best place for him, she laughed at me.'

  'But you're not a surgeon!'

  'I was that night. I was everything—anaesthetist, surgeon and scrub nurse. But I got the bullet out, cleaned up the wound, stitched him together and told Inez that at least he had a fighting chance. Now would she please give me an explanation? Why had she betrayed me? I had thought we were in love.'

  Now he looked at Jenny directly. 'Ever been betrayed, Jenny? Do you know what it feels like? When you realise that everything you have counted on, believed in over the past few months has all been a sad farce.'

  Suddenly Jenny felt a great sympathy for him. They had more in common than she had realised. 'I've been betrayed,' she said. 'Now finish your story.'

  He shrugged. 'You can probably guess the rest. Inez was one of a family that had made millions out of the cocaine trade. In fact, the guerrilla leader was her cousin or something. She was quite interested in the work I was doing, believed that it helped the community. But, of course, family came first. And as for love... well, she quite liked me and it made her job more pleasant. Things could go on as they had been before. But there would be more cases like this. And I would be well paid.'

  'So how did your face get slashed?'

  He shrugged. 'I didn't tell Inez what I thought; I just said I needed some drugs from the car. A guard went with me as I went to look for them. I hit him, knocked him out and ran for the gate. Another guard came out, slashed at me with his machete—and caught me. They chased me but I kept running and, once I was in the dark and the forest, I managed to lose them. Though I was bleeding like no one's business.'

  Jenny shivered at the horror of it. 'So...?'

  'I found a track through the forest, ran along it till I passed out. Then I woke up in hospital. Some old farmer had found me, dressed my wound with an appalling mixture of leaves and flowers and wrapped a dirty bandage round me. He brought me into town. I was taken to hospital, given blood that should have gone to someone else and I survived.'

  'What about Inez?'

  'I gave a statement to the police and they sent soldiers down to the old farmhouse. It was deserted. I never saw Inez again. I was found another translator and two days later I got out of bed and started work again. Babies were still being born, Jenny.'

  Her head was reeling. She went over the story, tried to imagine what he must have felt. And there was one huge question still to ask.

  'You thought you loved this woman, thought she loved you. How can you ever trust anyone again?'

  'It can be done,' he told her. 'It's hard. But try and it can be done.'

  Chapter Three

  Jenny didn't see too much of Mike for the rest of the week. Sometimes it happened that way, both were busy, they just never worked together in the same place. She even wondered if he was avoiding her on purpose—not wanting to give her the chance to change her mind about the visit to Wales. But he didn't have to worry. To her slight consternation she discovered she was looking forward to the trip. He phoned her in her room at lunchtime on Friday.

  'I'm halfway through the most boring meeting I've ever been to,' he said. 'I'm a doctor, not an accountant. Just wanted to confirm details for tomorrow. Incidentally, the weather forecast seems to be good.'

  'I'm looking forward to the day. Where do you want me to pick you up? And what time?'

  She felt safer being brisk, efficient. He seemed to recognise this and was also efficient.

  'Pick me up at my sister's place.' He gave her the address. 'And if you get there for half past eight there'll be time for a quick coffee with Sue and Sam. You're driving so I'll see to sandwiches and so on. Don't forget a warm sweater and a waterproof.'

  'I have been fell-walking before,' she told him.

  She replaced the receiver and smiled to herself. She was half apprehensive, half pleased. Tomorrow would be a new experience. How would she feel when the day was over? She suspected that her life might change a little.

  Saturday started well, the weather was fine. It gave her an odd thrill to pull on the walking clothes that she hadn't worn for years. Today was going to be different!

  She enjoyed meeting Sue and Sam again. They lived on a new estate not too far from the hospital. The garden showed signs of someone's recent care. She remembered how Sue had threatened Mike with the mowing. Mike was packed and ready to go so she did stop for the promised coffee.

  'Don't let him go tearing ahead of you,' Sue warned. 'He's spent the past few years racing up and down mountains, he's super-fit. If you want a rest or to look at the view, you stop and enjoy yourself.'

  'The slave-driver in this family is you,' Mike protested. 'The only way I could get out of more gardening is by going for a walk.'

  'There's always tomorrow,' Sue promised. 'Sam! In your mouth, not on the floor.'

  Jenny's breakfast times were solitary and silent. This amiable chatting over coffee was new to her; she thought she rather liked it.

  They took the fast route through the tunnel, along the M53 and then the A55 to Wales. Mike was an easygoing passenger, relaxed about her driving and chatting happily about his life in South America. Sue enjoyed the conversation and was sorry when he directed her off the main road and through a network of minor roads. Here she had to concentrate on her driving. But the scenery was something else.

  Finally, after a nerve-racking drive up a steep, narrow, twisting road, he told her to stop. They parked under trees and he led the way confidently forward. And after ten minutes the road opened to show a long blue lake, a circle of mountains round it.

  Jenny gasped. 'This is so beautiful,' she cried. 'Why didn't I know that there was something like this only two hours away?'

  'You never know what good things you might find till you
look,' he said enigmatically. 'That's true in life as well as in geography. Now we're going to climb up and follow that ridge round.'

  It looked high. 'We are?' Jenny asked doubtfully.

  'We are. We'll take it easy, move along gently and we'll be there before you realise it.'

  It wasn't quite as easy as he'd said. She suspected that most of the way he was holding himself back, not moving at his normal speed. And since she was puffing and panting, doing the very best she could, this irritated her a little.

  'I can keep up,' she said, when she noticed him quite deliberately slowing his pace. 'There's no need to make allowances for me. And if you want to hare ahead, do so. I'll catch up eventually!'

  He shook his head. 'This isn't a race or a competition. It's something we're doing together. Now, just look down. See how far we've walked already.'

  She did as he'd suggested and it was heartening. The lake in the valley bottom now seemed far away, much further than the summit ahead of them. They were getting there!

  They didn't talk much on the way up. She needed all the breath that she had. But she noticed just how much he was enjoying himself, he was at home here. From time to time he would pause, stare at a distant bird or down at a plant. Then he would smile to himself. Jenny felt she was seeing a new side of the man. He was more complex than she had realised

  And finally they reached the top. The path became less steep, the wind seemed to pick up a little. And then in the distance there was another ridge, and after five minutes of easy walking they could look down into an entirely different valley. The view was magnificent!

  For the moment her fatigue was forgotten. Jenny reached inside her sweater, pulled her shirt away from her warm body. This was worth the effort. And she noticed that Mike was still, as entranced as she was.

  Several times as they climbed up he had taken her hand to help her over the steeper sections. Now he took her hand again, led her to the lee of a great rock.