'What's the prognosis?'
'Not good. We've done everything we can. But she was blue when she arrived, hypothermic, in fact. I've spent the last couple of hours working on her. She's hypoglycaemic, low saturation, low blood sugars. I've got her intubated, on a ventilator and we've tried every combination of drugs that we can think of. But she's regressing.'
'I'll put your dinner on standby,' Jenny said. 'Just ring me a few minutes before you're coming. I'm missing you, sweetheart.'
'And I'm missing you.' She could feel the depth of feeling in his voice. 'Now, listen, and I mean this. I want you to eat without me. No point in us both going hungry.'
'But, Mike, I'd rather we both—'
'So would I. But, please, Jenny, have your own meal. I'll be in touch.'
But he didn't ring her. At half past nine she did as he had told her, ate her own meal. She didn't enjoy it much. Then, at half past ten, she made a decision. It took her only ten minutes to prepare a quick cold meal. She phoned SCBU, left a message with a nurse that Dr Donovan was not to leave the unit. Then she drove to the hospital.
Of course, she had worked in SCBU. It was different in feel from the other wards; there were fewer patients, less humour, less noise. At times the anxiety in the air was almost palpable. Jenny keyed in the code at the door, walked down the corridor, peering through the glass in the doors of the little rooms, looking at the tiniest of babies in their transparent incubators.
She found Mike in one of the rooms. He was standing at the foot of an incubator, staring sadly at the baby inside. Jenny tapped on the door.
He looked up, saw her and smiled. Jenny could see the joy in his eyes; he was so happy that she had come. He came to her in the corridor.
'If you can't come to me for your dinner,' she said, 'then I'll bring the dinner to you.' She offered him the bag with the three clingwrapped plates inside. 'You're working too hard, you'll be getting hungry.'
He looked from her to the bag, and then leaned forward to kiss her. 'Jenny, you're a sweetheart. My blood sugar's so low that I could... But you didn't need to bring me anything!'
'I wanted to,' she told him. 'Now, are you busy or can we go to the doctors' room so you can eat?'
He glanced back into the room. 'I guess I'm not busy,' he said.
She fetched him a mug of the coffee that was always bubbling away, and then watched with pleasure as he ate the sandwiches and salad she had made for him. He had been hungry—and when he had finished he looked decidedly better.
'Tell me about the case,' she said.
He shrugged. 'We've done everything that can be done. But it's too late. That baby's not going to make it.'
She knew that there were such cases, she had nursed them. But his bleak words made her shiver. 'So why did you feel you had to stay? Couldn't the SHO have dealt with it?'
'I'm sure she could. But when I was in South America—when I was working in some tiny clinic miles from the nearest hospital, miles often from the next doctor—I used to get a lot of cases like this one. And they were looked after. But I tended to give them one quick examination and then... they were left to die. We didn't have many skilled staff or sometimes not many medical stores. So we had to concentrate our resources on those babies who had a fighting chance. I was directed to those. And I decided that if there was ever a case in which there was even a one in a million chance that the baby might survive and me being there could help, I'd stick around.'
'My Mike,' she said. 'Always determined to get what he wants.'
His phone rang. 'Mike Donovan here. Hi, John, yes, I suppose it is good news. What's the prognosis? Good. No, just what we expected. No, no point in her coming at all... a matter of minutes. But I'll ring back when we're certain.'
He replaced the receiver, looked at Jenny. 'They've found the mother, she was fifteen. Looks like they've got to her in time. She's going into Theatre now. She needs cleaning up but she'll survive.' He paused a moment. 'She asked after her baby. Had we found her, could she see her? I said not really.'
There was a knock on the door, a nurse looked in. 'Mike, that baby has just...'
'I'll come and look,' he said. 'I knew it would happen. And I'll switch off the ventilator.
An hour later Jenny took Mike home.
'Sometimes you surprise me,' she told him in the car. 'All medicine is a balancing act, you've got to feel for your patients and yet distance yourself from their pain. You can't take on everybody's suffering. I thought you'd got it right—but occasionally you get very involved. Perhaps too involved.'
'It can happen,' he said. 'Like you said, medicine is a balancing act. Perhaps sometimes I do get too involved. But the other thing is worse. Not getting involved at all.'
'I think you're right.' She decided to change the subject. 'Now, you're to stay the night with me. You need to be reminded that there are good things in life.'
So he stayed. Jenny had told him that he was welcome any time but that he was still looking after Sue and Sam, and he must spend much of his time there. Of course, when Harry came back, things might be different.
And the next day was different too. Mike had told her that Sue was coming into the hospital for her four-month antenatal check-up, and would be bringing Sam.
'Obviously I can't do it,' Mike had said, 'and, anyway, I'm doing a clinic out of the hospital.'
'I've only got paperwork then,' Jenny had told him. 'Filling in five million forms and so on. So I'll go round and see her. I can play with Sam for a while.'
'They'll both like that.'
Jenny felt a bit embarrassed. She hadn't met Sue since... well, not since that first night Mike had stayed over with her. She wondered how Sue would feel about it. But she needn't have worried.
'Welcome to the family,' Sue said as they sat in Jenny's room, drinking coffee. 'I think Mike's a lucky man.'
'I think I'm a lucky woman.'
'Possibly. You know after he met you for the first time he asked me what I could find out about you?'
'Yes, he told me. I don't mind.'
'Good. Well, I'll do the same for you. What do you want to know about him?'
Jenny thought. 'There's nothing that I can't ask him,' she said after a while. 'Just one question, and that's an obvious one. I guess it's every woman's question. Why hasn't such a lovely man been snapped up before? He's told me he's had other affairs but apart from one there was nothing too serious.'
'He had a selection of girlfriends when he was younger,' Sue said. 'But he seemed always to be the caring type. A surprising number of them stayed friendly with him after they'd split up. How he managed that, I don't know.'
'Why did he go to South America?'
'He wanted to work there, and once he makes up his mind he wants something he goes for it. He's always been driven. Always in a hurry, always looking for something. You know that. And now he thinks he's found what he's been looking for: You.'
Jenny couldn't think of anything to say to that.
Sam had been chasing a little car around the floor. Sue picked him up and kissed him. 'One thing I will tell you about Mike,' she said. 'He'll be a wonderful father and family man. He dotes on Sam, even when Sam's being a little pig.'
'Pig! Oink oink!' Sam said cheerfully.
'What family do you have?' Sue asked.
There was silence for a moment as Jenny wondered how she should answer. Then she said, 'I have no family at all. I'm an only child. My father left my mother while I was still a baby, then my mother died of breast cancer when I was nineteen. And I've no cousins or anything like that. I've got used to being on my own.'
Sue looked appalled. 'You poor thing!' She covered Jenny's hand with her own. 'A family makes life worthwhile. Sorry! That was a terrible thing to say. Change the subject. Has he cooked for you yet?'
'No.' Then Jenny turned rather pink. 'Well, he tends to cook breakfast.'
'He can do better than that. Come to supper tomorrow night. He'll cook something Mexican. Do you like spicy food?'
>
'I love spicy food and I'd love to come to supper.'
'And it would be nice if you could stay the night,' Sue went on, 'then you can see what a family is really like first thing in a morning. I'm sure there'll be a bed for you somewhere. And did you know that Sam usually goes to see his uncle first thing in the morning? While he's still in bed?'
'You're teasing me.' Jenny blushed.
'Ask him.'
When Sue and Sam were gone, Jenny set about her tedious paperwork but there was a smile on her face. She felt happy. No, happy didn't cover everything she felt and she'd been happy at times before. Now she felt serene. Her life had a purpose, a future. All would be well.
She had to work late to finish her paperwork and Mike came in from his clinic to look for her. She pulled him into her room and kissed him.
'That was lovely but what especially is it for?' he asked.
'For being you. And because you're going to cook for me tomorrow night at Sue's. And I'm to spend the night there if a bed can be found.'
Mike sucked in a breath. 'Well, there's my bed, but we’re likely to have some company in the morning.'
'Me and a man and a bit,' said Jenny. 'You can read a story to Sam and me. And what's this about a Mexican meal?'
'I shall grow a big black moustache by tomorrow night,' said Mike.
Jenny told him not to fetch her on Friday night as he had things to do. It felt a bit odd, packing a small bag with a change of clothes, something to wear at night. She wasn't going far but it felt as if she was venturing into a foreign country. She was being invited into her lover's family. That was something.
She took flowers, a bottle of the same wine she had chosen for Mike and a reading book for Sam. Sam loved books. Then she was standing outside Sue's front door and took a deep breath. Then she knocked.
Sue opened the door and smiled at her cheerfully.
'We can't go into the kitchen, the great man is busy,' she said. 'I've just got Sam off to bed so come into the living room and we'll have a glass of wine and gossip. Isn't it nice to be looked after?'
Jenny had only been in the kitchen before. As they walked down the hall Sue called, 'Jenny's here.'
'Get her a drink. Don't interfere with me in this trying time. I'm creating.'
'He gets that way sometimes,' Sue explained. 'It's the artist in him.'
Jenny loved the living room, not even the presence of Sam's toys in a large basket could detract from its elegance. Sue poured her a drink, pointed to a rug on the wall.
'Mike sent us that from Yucatan. Isn't it glorious?'
It was indeed. It glowed, throbbed with colour, seemed to light up the whole room.
'Gorgeous,' said Jenny.
'Senora and Senorita! Soon I shall be serving the Mexican meal for the most beautiful ladeez. Please to sit at table.'
Jenny turned, her mouth open in shock. And then she giggled. Mike was dressed in black trousers and a white shirt. There was a vast straw sombrero at a rakish angle on his head, a red serape across his shoulder. And worst—or best—of all, he was wearing an apparent black Zapata moustache.
'So that's what you wanted my eye make-up for,' Sue said severely. 'Mike, you'll put us off our dinner.'
'Just trying to inject a bit of ethnic local colour,' Mike said dolefully. 'Jenny, have you noticed that only men are true romantics?'
'I'm a midwife,' Jenny said. 'I've seen where true romance gets women.'
It was a wonderful meal; spicy but not too hot. They had a variety of first courses—a shrimp ceviche, a green salad and a lettuce and grapefruit salad. There were ingredients that Jenny recognised, but the sauces and the spices were different.
Then they had the threatened chicken in chocolate—and to Jenny's amazement it was good. And the bean and vegetable accompaniment was equally tasty. To finish there was mango and tequila ice cream with banana bread.
'That was so good,' Jenny gasped when she had finally finished. 'Does everyone in South America eat like that?'
'Not all the time. But they pride themselves on making the most of local ingredients. What's called Mexican cooking in this country is often a poor imitation of the real thing.'
Jenny was not surprised that he was a good cook. She had seen the care he had taken of patients, she'd guessed he might be the same about other things.
It was a relaxed, enjoyable evening; Jenny felt that she was part of a family. There was a minor argument at the end of it as everyone felt they had to wash up. They compromised, all three did it together. And shortly afterwards they went to bed.
Jenny slept with Mike. She had wondered how she would feel in another woman's house, another woman's bathroom. But she felt fine. She liked being part of a family. It made her feel loved and wanted—and gave her a sense of belonging.
Chapter Five
Next morning, Jenny's idyllic life was blasted. Later, much later, she could look back on that black day and wonder that such a little mistake could alter two lives so much.
It was a fine morning, Mike suggested that they take Sam for a walk in the park and give Sue a chance to catch up on housework. Jenny thought that a bit unfair—but Sue leapt at the idea.
So Jenny, Mike and Sam walked down the road, turned to where the park stretched in front of them. Sam, for once not slippery, walked between them, each of them holding one of his hands. He loved being swung, shouted with delight. With a catch in her throat Jenny wondered if, in not too many years, she and Mike might be swinging their own child between them. It was a thought that both frightened and fascinated her.
The shoelace of one of her sensible shoes came undone. She stopped to tie it and as she pulled, the lace broke.
'You tie a knot in it,' Mike said. 'Sam and I will go across the road and buy the usual weekend ice cream. What flavour would you like?'
Jenny settled for a simple vanilla. Then she sat on a bench to fasten her lace.
She saw it all happening. Mike and Sam were at the ice cream van, Mike feeling in his pocket for money. Just for a second he let go of Sam's hand. Sam turned, saw her on the bench and shouted, 'Auntie Jenny.' Then he ran to her. Straight across the road.
For Jenny, life suddenly seemed to be in slow motion. She saw Mike turn, see what was happening, saw the horror on his face as he realised it was too late to do anything. She saw a car coming towards Sam, even saw the panic on the old lady driver's face. She couldn't stop or swerve. She saw Sam realise that he had done something very wrong—and slip. The car would hit him.
At school Jenny had been a sprinter. She had been quite good, but had given it all up when she'd started nurse training. Now sheer terror made the adrenalin surge through her system and half-forgotten abilities came back.
She ran towards Sam. Quick, short, initial steps, arms thrust high in the air to pull her forward. Body inclined, almost parallel to the ground, to get all the drive from the thighs. Forget the car bearing down on her. She had to get to Sam.
She reached down, grabbed Sam's tiny body and threw it forward. Vaguely she heard the screech of brakes, but she knew it would be too late. Then there was a bang, a crunch as something hit her legs. No time for pain, just instant blackness.
Something was wrong, very, very wrong. Something broken? She wasn't sure where she was or what was happening, but something was very, very wrong. She didn't want to open her eyes, but perhaps she ought to. And why was she lying down and what was that noise—someone calling her name? Then she came back to full consciousness and wished she hadn't.
She was lying on her back, the ground was hard. Her head hurt, it hurt a lot. So did her arm. And her back and her legs were... funny.
'Jenny, Jenny, can you hear me?' A voice, hoarse with anxiety.
Mike's voice.
She remembered him. She opened her eyes to see him looking down at her with an expression of such desperation that she had to feel sorry for him. And there were other faces looking down, sympathetic, curious faces. Then she remembered. It took a while before she could
make her mouth work.
'Sam? How's Sam?' she managed to croak.
'He's fine. There's a lady here holding him and she won't let go. Jenny, are you OK?' She could tell he knew it was a foolish question but he'd had to ask it.
'I have felt better,' she said.
It had always been easy to read his face—he couldn't keep his emotions from showing. And now she could see two sides of his character warring. He was the desperate lover, the man she loved. There was the gleam of tears in his eyes. And he was a doctor and she, for the moment, was his patient. And the doctor had to win. She saw the effort of will he made to hold back his emotions, to let his professional skills take over. She was a patient, he was a doctor.
'Don't try to move anything, just lie there. We've sent for an ambulance. It'll be here very soon and you'll be all right.'
She could feel a trickle of warmth and damp on the side of her head, obviously it was bleeding. Someone offered him a handful of tissues and he pressed them to the side of her head. Then she saw him peering into her eyes. She knew what he was doing, looking for different-sized pupils to see if she was concussed. She didn't feel concussed. Not that she knew what being concussed felt like.
He turned away from her and she heard him say to someone, 'Get more of those tissues and hold them against that bleeding on the leg. Hold, don't press.'
Perhaps the person did as he was told. But Jenny couldn't feel anything.
He turned back to her. 'You've cut your head, but where else hurts, Jenny?'
She had to think about that. 'My head hurts most. And my arm. And my legs feel... funny.'
'Don't try to move! Don't move your head, any part of you.'
But, without thinking, she tried to turn to look at him—and shrieked with the pain.
'Jenny! Keep still! Now, where was the pain?'
'My arm hurts so much!'
She felt his fingers slide along her arm and then, very gently, lift it so it rested across her chest. It still hurt but the pain was bearable.
'It should be easier there,' he said. 'Now, keep still.'
He felt the side of her neck, gently probing the top of her spine. Then he touched the side of her head— that hurt too. But she heard his grunt of satisfaction.
A Very Special Midwife Page 7
