A Very Special Midwife

by Gill Sanderson

  'We can sit here and shelter a while,' he said. 'You'll find yourself getting cold quicker than you know. I think it's time for lunch.'

  He spread a silver space blanket for them to sit on then sat by her side. She rested her back against the rock, stared at the view and was entirely happy. He poured her a mug of coffee from a metal flask, passed her a long ham roll.

  'Before you ask,' he said, 'I made the lunch. I wanted the catering for this little expedition to be entirely by Donovan and company. And Sam was so fascinated by the process that I had to make him a set of sandwiches and wrap them properly in silver foil. He'll be having them about now.'

  She giggled. 'You're a brilliant caterer. I'll employ you to make my lunchtime sandwiches.'

  'I'd like that. What do I get as payment?'

  It had been said light-heartedly but she saw something in his eyes that suggested a deeper meaning. She decided to finish their little picnic in silence. And she was hungrier than she could remember being in months.

  'Why do you like it so much up here?' she asked when they had both finished.

  He didn't need to think long, but pointed at the blue ridge opposite them. 'I love long views.'

  'Any special reason?'

  'They give me perspective. Make my troubles seem less.'

  He pointed to the bottom of the valley in front of them and she could just see what seemed to be two or three rows of buildings. They were of dark stone, fitted well into the landscape.

  'That was an old mine, those cottages were for the mineworkers. People were born, worked and died there. Some of them didn't move very far or very often from that tiny settlement.'

  She looked at him curiously. 'So what are you telling me?'

  He shrugged. 'They lived happy, fulfilled lives. So should we all.'

  He put his arm around her shoulders. Then he leaned over and kissed her. At first she froze—she was shocked; she didn't know if she wanted this. But then she sighed and relaxed.

  'That was nice,' she said when he stopped. Then she frowned. 'You know no one has kissed me like that in years? I'm not sure it's something I want to get used to again. In fact, I think you'd better not do it again.'

  'You seemed frightened at first. Do you want to tell me, Jenny?'

  She looked at him, perplexed. 'Tell you what?'

  'Tell me what comes between us. The first minute I saw you, that time at the party, I was attracted to you. And we've met, and we've talked, and I think that you quite like me. But something stops you; you don't want to get involved. Could you tell me what it is?'

  His voice was gentle, persuasive. She was tempted.

  But then her native caution took over. 'You've only known me for a week,' she pointed out. 'Getting to know someone is supposed to be a long process.'

  'Jenny, I felt I knew you the moment I saw you. And I wanted you desperately then. If you see something that you want desperately—you go for it.'

  'You might. I'm not sure I want to. And how many other women have made you want them desperately? What about Inez Sanchez?' What had started as an innocent enough conversation was now drawing Jenny into places she didn't want to go. She knew her voice was shrill, showed the unease she was feeling.

  After a while he said, 'I got over Inez. It took time, but I managed. But before her there was one other woman. She had something that I always wanted; I can still feel the intensity of longing for it.'

  Jenny was surprised to find that she felt disappointed. 'Tell me about her,' she said.

  'Her name was Lucy Tilling. She had long blonde hair down her back. It shone, always.'

  Jenny pulled at her own dark hair, aware that the pleat she had tied it into had come adrift. 'When was this?'

  'About thirty years ago. She was four, I was nearly four. She was an older woman. And she had this crimson rubber ball that tinkled when it rolled and I wanted to play with it and she wouldn't let me...'

  'Idiot!' she said, giggling.

  'If you had a tinkly crimson rubber ball, would you let me play with it?'

  He asked the question softly and she knew it was not a joke. 'I'd be afraid you'd steal it,' she said. 'Run away with it. You seem to run away with things.' She thought a minute then said, 'Perhaps I'd say yes.'

  When he kissed her this time, it was different. He wrapped his arms around her, they wriggled on the space blanket till they were lying side by side and he kissed her.

  After a while Jenny opened her eyes and saw, high above her in the blue sky, a single bird flying. She felt that she was flying too. She closed her eyes again.

  She didn't know how long they lay there— minutes, hours, it didn't matter. And she didn't want to move, she was at home with his arms around her and his lips on hers. But there were things that she had to say, and suddenly they became very important.

  She slid out of his grasp, sat up. 'You sit up too,' she said. 'There are things I've got to tell you.'

  'Important things? Because what we were doing was important.'

  'Very important to me. Well, perhaps to you as well.'

  So he sat up next to her, took her hands in his and kissed them. She remembered the first time he had done that—by her car, in the hospital car park. It had shocked her then—though she had rather liked it. And now he had done it again.

  'You asked me what stopped me, why I didn't want to get involved. I suppose you guessed it was a man. A love affair.'

  'Something like that,' he said cautiously.

  'And you checked up on me, listened to the hospital gossip?'

  He folded his arms, defensively. 'I asked Sue to find out what she could about you,' he confessed. 'I wanted things to be... right between us. I didn't want to make any awful mistakes and I didn't dare ask you. Then Sue got cross at me and said I should treat you properly.'

  Jenny smiled. 'I like Sue. Anyway, I'm not going to give you the details of what happened because now they aren't important. The important thing is... what has just happened to me. Usually when I think about the past, the pain and the misery come straight back. And I hate all men. I want nothing to do with them; I'm not going to risk suffering more. But now that's gone. It's as if I had been ill and I'm cured.'

  He was looking at her wide-eyed, as if he couldn't believe what she was saying. 'And that's happened just now?'

  She shrugged. 'Perhaps it was time. But now I can look back, I can remember that we had some good times together and I can enjoy those memories. And then I found out that he was two-faced and I can cope with that too. He's out of my life, a memory from the past, not a pain in the present. I can start living again!

  She leaned towards him, took his head between her hands and kissed him, fiercely, demandingly, on the lips.

  'You're the one who's done it, Mike, you've been the catalyst. You've set me free.'

  'If I've helped you, I want a reward.'

  'Perhaps. In fact, probably. In time. But for now that's enough emotion. I don't want to talk any more, I just want to be.' She leaped to her feet. 'I'm so happy I could run,' she said.

  'So run. Then come back and kiss me again.'

  They had to finish the walk. Mike led her along the ridge and then they zigzagged slowly downwards, passing through forests of dark pine. For Jenny everything was new—the sun on the back of her neck, the smell of resin in the forest, the splashing of the many mountain streams. All were to be experienced far more fully than before. And there was Mike to hold her hand.

  By the time they got back to the car she was truly, happily weary. He suggested that he drive, she gladly agreed. He took her to a village pub where they had a pint of shandy each, and then he drove her back to the city. She held his hand when she could, and dozed with a smile on her lips.

  He said he would drive her home and then take a taxi back to Sue's.

  'No, you won't. You'll drive back to Sue's and I'm quite capable of driving the rest of the way myself. I am an independent woman, you know.'

  'I do know that. How I know it. But you'll come in for
tea?'

  'I'll come in for a cup of tea. But Sue has enough to do coping with you and Sam. I'll not stay.'

  'Things have changed between us.'

  'Possibly. Well, certainly.'

  'The first thing to say is that I can't see you tomorrow. I've got a family visit with Sue and Sam. It's been arranged for a while and I can't get out of it.' He sounded anxious.

  'It doesn't matter. It's a good idea for me to have a bit of time to myself. I've got to get used to the new me. I want to see how I feel in the morning. There's plenty of time, Mike.'

  'Not if you're feeling the way I am,' he growled, and she blushed and giggled.

  They had a cup of tea at the kitchen table with Sue, and Jenny resolutely resisted her invitation to stay for the evening.

  'I'm still hot, sticky and sweaty,' she said. 'If ladies can get sweaty. I need a long hot bath.'

  'You had a good time, then?' Sue's voice was innocent.

  'Couldn't have been better.' Jenny saw Sue glance from her to Mike and then smile. She blushed again.

  When she finally got home she decided that her flat was welcoming—but a bit shabby. Time to do some decorating. She lay in the bath, planning colour schemes, considering new furniture. She cooked herself a meal, but next morning hadn't even been able to remember what it had been. Then she went to bed and slept at once, a smile on her lips.

  Next morning life was still good for her. There were two reasons: Peter Murphy, the man she had once thought she loved, now felt unimportant, and Mike had arrived. A weight off her mind and a chance of happiness to come. What more could she want? And she knew that no longer would she have to work so hard at the hospital. Everything was planned, all the processes in place. She could afford to take things a bit easier. Live her own life. And life was good.

  She was stiff after the walk. But still she decided to decorate her bedroom; it was perhaps the room that needed it most. She fetched her little ladder, dug out a scraper that she hadn't used in years and started to take off the wallpaper. While she prepared she could think of her new colour scheme. Perhaps something a bit more imaginative than the cream and beige flowers she was scraping onto the floor. In the middle of the afternoon her phone rang. It was Mike.

  'I'm taking Sam for a little walk, thought I'd try you on my mobile. How are you? After yesterday's walk.' She could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

  'I'm stiff but I'm fine. Do you know you've stopped the job, got me down from my ladder? I'm decorating.' She knew he'd respond to the cheerfulness in her tone.

  'Decorating? May I see?'

  'Only when it's finished. I want you to come in and see it at its best. It's my bedroom.' Then she realised what she had said. 'Don't take that too far.'

  'Now, would I?' His voice lowered. 'I've missed you today, Jenny.'

  'And I've missed you. But we'll meet tomorrow.'

  She felt happy as she climbed back up the ladder.

  On her desk next morning at work there was an envelope, with her name written on the outside. She picked it up, there was something hard inside. Curious. She opened the envelope.

  Inside was a piece of some kind of semi-precious green stone. It was carved—on one side was a smiling face, on the other a sad one. There was a leather thong attached. And it was incredibly beautiful.

  She couldn't help herself, she hung it around her neck. It didn't go too well with the drab fabric of her uniform, but it was still beautiful. And then there was a knock and her door opened. It was Mike. First he held her and kissed her. Then she opened her eyes and saw that behind him her door was still open. She pulled away frantically.

  'Mike! People will see us!'

  'They'll only be jealous,' he said serenely. 'And I'm doing nothing I'm ashamed of.'

  'There's a time and place. Now, what's this? Did you leave it here?'

  He touched the pendant around her neck, turned it so the smiling face was outwards. 'It's a present for you. For a start, the colour matches your eyes. I brought it back from a village high in Mexico, it's supposed to bring good luck.' He turned the pendant round and then back again. 'It shows that sadness can always be turned into happiness.'

  She took her little mirror, looked at the reflection of the pendant. 'It's lovely,' she said.

  'Will you wear it tonight? When I buy you dinner?'

  She shook her head. 'I won't wear it tonight. I've got a standards co-ordinating meeting at the university. It's very important and very dreary and it'll go on for ever. What about tomorrow night?'

  It was his turn to shake his head. 'I'm on call all night and John wants me to stay on or near the ward. Couple of difficult cases. In fact, I'm on call till next Friday.' He sighed. 'I never thought that my life would be messed up by a timetable. True love never runs smoothly, does it? Let's just face up to it, Jenny, I'll not be really free till next weekend.'

  'Then make it Saturday. I'm disappointed—but I know what doctors' work is like.' She thought a minute. 'You mentioned true love, Mike—I'm still a bit cautious. I want to take things easy at first and—'

  He kissed her again. 'Find what you want and go for it,' he said. 'And I want you so much. But I can wait at least till next Saturday.'

  They met before, of course, they worked together on the antenatal ward. It was Tuesday afternoon.

  'This is Sheila,' Jenny said to Mike, pushing forward an obviously nervous girl in uniform. 'She's second year, here to gain practical experience. I wondered if we could let her perform an examination. She's watched, of course, but never actually done one.'

  Mike nodded. 'Now's a good time to start,' he said. He thought for a minute. 'We've got Joan Adams, a lady who's been in labour for about four hours—we'll probably be sending her down to the delivery suite shortly. Sheila, how would you decide that your patient is about to give birth?'

  Sheila thought. 'Well, there's the case history, of course. You'd know when it was likely. Then there are the waters breaking and the contractions. And then you'd perform an examination and see to what extent the uterus was dilated.'

  'Good. Have you examined a dilated uterus yet?'

  'Not a real one.' Sheila blushed. 'We've got this box of plastic models, all in various stages of dilatation, and we've felt all those. But I suspect they're not like the real thing.'

  'Hardly at all,' Mike agreed. 'Wait here, I'll go and ask Joan if she minds you examining her.'

  Every patient had to be asked if they minded being examined for training purposes. Jenny was always slightly encouraged by the fact that the great majority of people agreed. It was rare for one to refuse.

  Mike came back a minute later. 'Joan says that's fine,' he said. 'This is her third child; she's quite used to maternity wards and to being examined, so she won't be nervous. So look confident, Sheila. If you look confident, you'll feel confident. Now, you're going to perform this examination, we two are just going to watch.'

  Sheila gave a weak smile. 'Yes, Dr Donovan,' she said.

  In fact, Sheila's bedside manner was quite good. She smiled at the patient, introduced herself and chatted for a couple of minutes. Just the procedure Jenny had said was so important. Mike observed this, nodded approvingly to Jenny. After the normal observations were taken and noted, Sheila said that she wanted to make an internal examination, arranged Joan in the proper position and snapped on the specially lubricated sterile gloves. Afterwards she frowned, but remembered in time and turned to smile at the patient.

  'Thank you, Mrs Adams, all over now.' She rearranged the bedclothes.

  Mike led the little group down the ward. 'A good examination, Sheila,' he said. 'You put the patient at ease and thought of her dignity—and that's important. What was the dilatation?'

  Sheila bit her lip. 'Four centimetres?' she suggested.

  Mike nodded. 'Not too bad. In fact, it was three centimetres. But don't worry, this is a skill that only comes with practice. But you'll get there. You'll be a good midwife, Sheila.'

  Jenny could tell that Sheila was more t
han pleased with this praise. And Jenny was more than pleased with Mike. He was an excellent teacher.

  It was only luck, of course, but Jenny found that the pendant Mike had given her didn't only match her eyes, it also matched the dress she had bought on impulse two weeks before. She held the pendant against the dress, and then the dress against her body. She was going to look great.

  She had booked a Saturday afternoon hair appointment. Linda knew her hair and would arrange something a bit special for her. And she did. Jenny was more than happy with the result. Then she bought herself some, new shoes from the arcade. As she walked away from the shoe shop she passed another small shop she'd never visited before, an obviously expensive ladies' lingerie shop.

  She glanced in the window, walked on. Then she turned and looked again. No, she had quite enough underwear, no need to... She went in the shop.

  It seemed she spent a fortune on not very much. But why not? She was too young to be wearing sensible underwear all the time, she was entitled to be frivolous occasionally. And she wanted to be smart right down to her skin. Down to her skin. Well, yes.

  First there were things to do around the flat, she had planned quite carefully. But then it was time to change.

  She took her time getting ready—had a long bath, took extra care with her make-up then slipped on her new underwear and then the dress. And, of course, the shoes, which made all the difference. Then the green pendant Mike had given her. The green of the pendant, her dress and her eyes—all went so well together.

  She was a bit surprised when she looked at herself properly, there was more cleavage than she usually showed. And the scanty underwear was needed. But she knew she looked good. And because of that she felt good. She felt both exciting and excited. She sat down to wait for Mike, her heart beating faster than usual.

  No male friend had been invited to her flat in the past three years. But Mike had been. She wondered what he would make of the place. It was clean, of course, but comfortable rather than smart. Still, she was changing that. She'd started on the bedroom.

  When he rang her doorbell her heart beat even faster. But she remained calm, had a last check in her bedroom mirror and went to let him in. He looked so good! A lightweight fawn suit, a dark shirt. Following the fashion of the day, he wore no tie. And it gave him a slightly exotic, raffish look.