Just One Night?

by Carol Marinelli

  A plane roared overhead and the sob that came from Isla was so deep and so primal it was as if she were back there—waking to the sound of her sister’s tears and the aftermath, except this time she was able to cry about it.

  Their parents had been away for a weekend. Evie, their housekeeper, had lived in a small apartment attached to the house and so, effectively, they had been alone. Isla, on waking to the sounds of her sister crying, had got out of bed and padded to the bathroom and stood outside, listening for a moment.

  ‘Isabel?’ Isla knocked on the bathroom door.

  ‘Go away, Isla,’ Isabel said, then let out very low groan and Isla realised that her sister was in pain.

  ‘Isabel,’ Isla called. ‘Unlock the door and let me in.’

  Silence.

  But then came another low moan that had Isla gripped with fear.

  ‘Isabel, please.’ She knocked on the door again, only this time with urgency. ‘If you don’t let me in then I’m going to go and get Evie.’

  Evie was so much more than a housekeeper. She looked after the two girls as if they were her own. She worried about them, was there for them while their parents attended their endless parties.

  They both loved her.

  Isla was just about to run and get Evie when the door was unlocked and Isla let herself in. She stepped inside the bathroom and couldn’t believe what she saw. Isabel was drenched in sweat and there was blood on the tiles, but as she watched her sister fold over it dawned on Isla what was happening.

  Isabel was giving birth.

  ‘Please don’t tell Evie,’ Isabel begged. ‘No one must know, Isla, you have to promise me that you will never tell anyone …’

  Somehow, despite the blood, despite the terror and the moans from her sister, Isla stayed calm.

  She knew what she had to do.

  Isla dropped down to her knees on instinct rather than fear as Isabel lay back on the floor, lifting herself up on her elbows. ‘It’s okay, Isabel,’ Isla said reassuringly. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

  ‘There’s something between my legs …’ Isabel groaned. ‘It’s coming.’

  Isla had been born a midwife, she knew that then. It was strange but even at that tender age, somehow Isla dealt with the unfolding events. She looked down at the tiny scrap that had been born to her hands and managed to stay calm as an exhausted Isabel wept.

  He was dead, that much Isla knew, yet he was perfect. His little eyes were fused closed and he was so very still.

  Tomorrow she would start to doubt herself. Tomorrow she would wonder if there was something more that she could have done for him. In the months and years ahead Isla would terrorise herself with those very questions and would go over and over holding her little nephew in her hands instead of doing more. But there, in that moment, in the still of the bathroom, Isla knew.

  She wrapped her tiny nephew in a small hand towel. There was the placenta and the cord still attached and she continued to hold him as Isabel lay on the floor, sobbing.

  ‘He’s beautiful,’ Isla said. He was. She gazed upon his features as her fingers held his tiny, tiny hands and she looked at his spindly arms and cuddled him and then, when Isabel was ready, Isla handed the tiny baby to her.

  ‘Did you know you were pregnant?’ Isla asked, but Isabel said nothing, just stared at her tiny baby and stroked his little cheek.

  ‘Does Sean know?’ Isla asked.

  ‘No one knows,’ Isabel said. ‘No one is ever to know about this.’ She looked at Isla, her eyes urgent. ‘You have to promise me that you will never, ever tell anyone.’

  Some promises were too big to make, though.

  ‘I have to tell Evie,’ Isla said.

  ‘Isla, please, no one must know.’

  ‘And so what are we supposed to do with him?’ Isla demanded.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You know what you don’t want me to do, though. You know that he needs to be properly taken care of,’ Isla said, and Isabel nodded tearfully.

  ‘You won’t tell anyone else,’ Isabel sobbed. ‘Promise me, Isla.’

  ‘I promise.’

  Isla sped through the house and to Evie. The elderly housekeeper was terribly distressed at first, but then she calmed down and dealt with things. She understood, better than most, the scandal this might cause and the terrible impact it would have on Isabel if it ever got out. She had a sister who worked in a hospital in the outer suburbs and Evie called her and asked what to do.

  Isla sat, her tears still flowing as she recalled the drive out of the city to the suburbs. Isabel was holding the tiny baby and crying beside her till the lights of the hospital came into view. Evie’s sister met them and Isabel was put in a wheelchair and taken to Maternity, with Isla following behind. The midwife who had greeted them had been so lovely to Isabel, just so calm, wise and efficient.

  ‘What happens now?’ Isla asked. It was as if only then had they noticed that Isabel’s young sister was there and she was shown to a small waiting room.

  It had been the last time Isla had seen her nephew.

  She didn’t really know what had gone on.

  Evie had come in at one point and said that the baby was too small to be registered. Isla hadn’t known what that meant other than that no one would have to find out.

  Her parents would later question Isla’s decision to become a midwife. They had deemed that it wasn’t good enough for a Delamere girl but Isla had stood by her calling.

  She’d wanted to be as kind and as calm as the staff had been with Isabel that night.

  With one modification.

  Though her sister had been gently dealt with by midwives who had been used to terrified sixteen-year-old girls who did not want their parents to find out, one person had been forgotten.

  Isla had sat alone and unnoticed in the waiting room.

  Now she knew things should have been handled differently—the midwives, the obstetrician, at least one of them should have recognised Isla’s terror and spoken at length with her about what had happened. They should have come in and taken care of the twelve-year-old girl who had just delivered her dead nephew. They should have carefully explained that the baby had been born at around eighteen weeks gestation, which had meant that there was nothing Isla could have possibly done to save him.

  It would be many years before Isla got those answers and she’d had to find them out for herself.

  Yes, that night had left scars.

  Despite appearances, despite her immaculate clothes and long glossy hair and seemingly spectacular social life, Isla had equated sex with disaster. Not logically, of course, but throughout her teenage years she had avoided dating boys and in her final year at school Rupert had seemed the perfect solution. Still she’d kept the secret of that night to herself.

  She had promised her sister after all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ISLA DID WHAT she could to repair the damage to her face—her eyelids were puffy, her nose was red and her lips swollen. Isla never cried. Even at the most difficult births she was very aware that even a single tear might lead back to that memory and so she kept her emotions in check.

  Always.

  She put on some sunglasses and made her way to Arrivals, where she stood, her eyes moving between the three exit doors and wondering if she would even recognise Darcie when she came out.

  As it turned out, it was Darcie who recognised her.

  ‘Isla!’ Her name was called from behind the rail and the second she turned Isla’s face broke into a smile.

  ‘I was watching the wrong door.’ Isla greeted Darcie with a hug. ‘Happy New Year,’ she said.

  ‘Happy New Year, to you, too.’ Darcie smiled.

  ‘I was starting to worry that I wouldn’t recognise you when you came out,’ Isla admitted.

  ‘Well, I certainly recognised you. You’re as gorgeous as you are in the magazine I was just …’ Darcie’s voice trailed off and she went a bit pink, perhaps guessing that the article she had rea
d on the plane might not be Isla’s favourite topic, given that it had revealed Rupert’s infidelity.

  Isla let that comment go and they stepped out into the morning sun. Melbourne was famous for its fickle weather but this morning the sky was silver blue and the sun had been firmly turned on to welcome Darcie.

  ‘It shouldn’t take too long to get home,’ Isla said as they hit the morning rush-hour traffic. ‘Did you get much sleep on the plane?’

  ‘Not really.’ Darcie shook her head. ‘I shan’t be much company today.’

  ‘That’s fine.’ Isla smiled. ‘I’m dropping you home and then I’ll be going into work so you’ll have the place to yourself.’

  ‘You should have told me that you were working this morning!’ Darcie said. ‘I could have taken a taxi. You didn’t have to come out to the airport to meet me.’

  ‘It was no problem and I was there anyway to see Isabel off.’

  ‘Oh, of course you were.’ Darcie glanced at Isla. Despite the repair job that Isla had done with make-up and dark glasses, it was quite clear to Darcie that she had been crying. Now, though, Darcie thought she knew why. ‘It must have been hard to say goodbye to your sister.’

  ‘It was,’ Isla admitted. ‘I’m going to miss her a lot, though I bet she’s going to have an amazing year in England.’

  They chatted easily as they drove into Melbourne. Isla pointed out a few landmarks—Federation Square and the Arts Centre—and Darcie said she couldn’t wait to get on a tram.

  ‘We’ll be catching one tonight,’ Isla told her. ‘I’ve organised for some colleagues to get together and have drinks tonight. It’s a bit of a tradition on the maternity unit that we all try to get together before a new staff member starts, just so we can get most of the introductions out of the way and everything. If it’s too much for you, given how far you’ve flown, everyone will understand.’

  ‘No, it won’t be too much, that sounds lovely. I’m looking forward to meeting everyone.’

  ‘Have you left a boyfriend behind?’ Isla asked, and Darcie shook her head.

  ‘No, I’m recently single and staying that way. I’m here to focus on my career. I’ve heard so much about the MMU at the Victoria—I just can’t wait to get started.’

  ‘There it is.’ Isla drove slowly past the hospital where Darcie would commence work the next day. It was a gorgeous old building that, contrary to outer appearances, was equipped with the best staff and equipment that modern medicine had to offer.

  They soon pulled into the underground car park of the apartment block and took the lift to the penthouse.

  ‘Wow,’ Darcie said as they stepped inside. ‘When you said that we’d be sharing a flat …’ She was clearly a bit taken aback by the rather luxurious surroundings and looked out of the floor-to-ceiling windows to the busy city below. ‘It’s stunning.’

  ‘It will soon feel like home,’ Isla assured her. ‘I’ll give you a quick tour but then I really need to get to work.’

  ‘There’s no need for a tour,’ Darcie said. ‘I’ll just be having a very quick shower and then bed. I’ll probably still be in it when you get home.’

  Isla showed Darcie to her room. It had its own en suite and Isla briefly went through how to use the remote control for the blinds and a few other things and then she quickly got changed to head into work. ‘I’ll try and get back about six o’clock,’ Isla said. ‘I’ve told people to get there about seven, but if I do get stuck at work I’ll send a colleague to pick you up.’

  ‘There’s no need for that.’ Darcie was clearly very independent, Isla realised. ‘Just tell me the name of the bar and if you can’t make it home in time, I’ll find my own way there.’

  Isla smiled, though she shook her head. ‘I’m not leaving you to make your own way there on your first day in Melbourne.’

  Darcie was nice, Isla decided as she drove to work. She still felt a little bit unsettled from her breakdown earlier. She had never cried like that. In fact, she did everything she could not to think about that terrible morning. The trouble was, though, since Sean had arrived, that long-ago time seemed to be catching up with both Isabel and her. As if to prove her point, the first person she saw when she walked into MMU was Sean. With no dark glasses to hide behind now, Isla’s heart sank a little when he called her over.

  ‘I was wondering if you could have a word with Christine Adams for me,’ Sean said. ‘I know how good you are with teenagers and, in all honesty, nothing I say about contraception seems to be getting through to her. At this rate, Christine is going to be back here in nine months’ time. I inserted an IUD after delivery but, as you know, she had a small haemorrhage and it’s been expelled so I can’t put another one in for six weeks. She’s also got a history of deep vein thrombosis so she’s not able to go on the Pill. Can you just reiterate to her and her boyfriend that they need to use condoms every time? She’s told me that she doesn’t want another baby for a couple of years, and I think she’s right—her body needs a rest.’

  ‘She’s very anaemic, isn’t she?’ Isla checked.

  ‘She is. I was considering a transfusion when she bled but she’s going to try and get her iron up herself.’

  ‘I’ll have a chat,’ Isla agreed. She was very used to dealing with young mums and last year had started a group called Teenage Mums-To-Be, or TMTB, as it was known. Even though she couldn’t always be there to take the group, one of the other midwives would run it for her if necessary and they often had an obstetrician come along to talk to the young women, too. It was proving to be a huge success.

  Christine had attended TMTB for two babies in one year. Robbie, who had been born a couple of days ago, was her second baby. This morning Christine was going home to look after a newborn and a ten-month-old with her iron level in her boots. Isla knew that Sean was right, she could be back again at the MMU very soon.

  ‘One other thing, Isla,’ Sean started as Isla went to head off, but whatever he’d been about to say was put on hold as he looked over Isla’s shoulder. ‘Good morning, Alessi, thanks for coming down—you’re looking very smart.’

  Especially smart, Isla thought! Alessi’s good looks and easy smile she did not need this morning, especially as he was looking particularly divine. He was dressed in an extremely impressive suit, his tie was immaculately knotted and he was, for once, freshly shaven. He might as well be on his way to a wedding rather than dropping into the unit to check a newborn that Sean was worried about.

  ‘Good morning, all,’ Alessi said.

  ‘Morning, Alessi,’ one of Isla’s midwives called.

  ‘Looking good,’ someone else commented, and Isla bristled as she heard a wolf whistle come from the treatment room.

  They were like bees to honey around him and Alessi took it all in his stride and just smiled, though it did not fall in Isla’s direction. They didn’t get on. Of course they were professional when they worked together. Their paths often crossed but they both tried to make sure that there was as little contact as possible. His flirting with her staff annoyed the hell out of Isla, however, and she was very tempted to have a word with him about it. She had recently found out that he was dating one of her students, Amber.

  That made it sound worse than it was, Isla knew—Amber was a mature-age student and older than she herself was, but even so, Isla wasn’t impressed.

  What she couldn’t dispute, though, was that Alessi was one of the hardest-working doctors she had ever known. As hard as he dated, he worked. He was there in the mornings when she arrived and often long after she went home.

  ‘What do you have for me?’ Alessi asked Sean, but before he could answer Isla made to go.

  ‘I’ll leave you both to it,’ Isla said.

  ‘Could you hold on a second, Isla? I still want to speak with you,’ Sean said, thwarting her attempt to make a swift getaway. He turned to Alessi. ‘I’ve got a baby I delivered in the early hours. He seemed to be fine when delivered but there’s no audible cry now. All observations are normal and he
seems well other than he isn’t making much noise when he cries.’

  ‘I’ll take a look.’ Alessi nodded.

  ‘So why are you all dressed up?’ Sean asked, given that Alessi usually dressed in scrubs and looked as if he had just rolled out of bed.

  ‘I’m having lunch today with the bigwigs …’ Alessi rolled his eyes and then they did meet Isla’s and he gave her a tight smile. ‘I’m actually having lunch with Isla’s father.’

  She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but Isla knew that he was having a little dig at her.

  ‘Enjoy,’ Isla said.

  ‘I shan’t,’ Alessi tartly replied. ‘Sometimes you have to just suffer through these things.’

  The lunch that Alessi was speaking about was due to the fact that he was soon to be receiving an award in recognition of his contributions to the neonatal unit over the past year. There was a huge fundraising ball being held in a couple of weeks’ time and Charles Delamere was attempting to push Alessi towards the charitable side of things—hence the lunch today, where it would be strongly suggested that Alessi, with his good looks and easy smile, might be a more visible presence. While Alessi knew how essential fundraising was and felt proud to have his achievements acknowledged, a part of him resented having to walk the talk. He’d far rather be getting on with the job than appearing on breakfast television to speak about the neonatal unit, as Charles had recently suggested.

  Alessi chatted for a moment more with Sean but, during that brief exchange with Isla, he had noted the puffiness around her eyes and had guessed, rightly, that she had been crying. He was wrong about the reason, though. Alessi assumed Isla’s tears were because of the weekend reports about her boyfriend’s philandering. Even if she was upset there was still plenty of the ice-cold Isla, Alessi thought as she stood there. Her stance was bored and dismissive and she didn’t even deign to give him a glance as he headed off to examine the infant.