Ben ploughed on as if once started he may as well get it all over with. 'It seemed she needed a fall guy for another relationship that went wrong and she'd set the seduction up for that reason. Silly me.'
His breath whistled in the dark. 'But she did need me to be stable for her. She was drowning in well-camouflaged mental illness even then. I looked after her, submerged myself in my work when I needed sanity myself, and stayed in our marriage for Tammy. But I couldn't make Bridget happy. I honestly don't think anyone could. When she died her mother made them call it unresolved postnatal depression, which dumped the guilt back onto me, as an obstetrician who should have seen that coming, along with the bombshell of Tammy's paternity.'
His voice lowered. 'Then something at work happened and I lost the plot.'
The inflection on 'something' told Misty this was the real reason Ben was afraid. She let the silence build. Already he'd shared more than she'd expected, and she could wait if he wanted to stop now.
The miles passed and Misty closed her eyes until she heard Ben shift in his seat.
Misty straightened. 'Let's stop for coffee. Louisa has made a hamper. Five minutes to stretch your legs.'
'You're a mind-reader.' He looked at her and smiled at the unintentional pun. 'Do you do that, too?'
Misty smiled back and the weight of his scepticism eased. Another fragment of their rapport returned and Misty was very glad she'd come.
Ten minutes later they were back on the road. They'd had a normal conversation at the truck stop and now they were both wide awake.
'Do you still want to know about my patient?'
Misty tried not to let him hear her sigh of relief. 'What happened, Ben?'
She heard him breathe deeply once in the dark and then he began. 'One of those tragedies we all dread. It should have been simple. Twin pregnancy. She'd had twins before, everything looked fine—ultrasounds perfect, then something went wrong, we never found out what. And one of the twins died unexpectedly. I did an emergency Caesarean and we saved the second twin but the family, of course, were devastated.'
He stopped again and when he resumed his voice was even softer, as if he was afraid to tell the story out loud. 'I kept thinking what I could have done differently. Should I have had them more closely watched, done more blood tests, induced them earlier? I felt so useless and that I'd let them down. I started to dread that if something like that happened again, would I act differently?' There was no doubt what she was hearing had affected him profoundly.
'When my patient returned for her postnatal visit I was distracted. I shouldn't have been distracted at work. Bridget had died and I was in mid-disaster with Tammy's custody, but that's no excuse.'
It might not be an excuse but it explained a lot, Misty thought, but she didn't interrupt his flow.
He sighed. 'I knew something wasn't right. She looked the same, her second twin was immaculate and growing well, and she said she was fine. The baby was sleeping but she seemed brittle. Almost frozen into a caricature of herself. I persevered a little on her mental state but she was adamant she was happy.'
He slapped the steering-wheel. 'I should have done more, never have let her go.' He sighed again. 'I suspected she was depressed and gave her emergency numbers to call, even arranged a visit with a psychiatrist the next day, which she wasn't keen on. And then I rang her husband.'
Misty cleared her throat and swallowed. 'So you think she had postnatal depression or postnatal psychosis?'
Ben nodded. 'That afternoon she leapt from her apartment window with her baby in her arms. They both died.'
Misty felt the cold of shock douse her skin. 'That's horrible.'
'So was the court case,' he said wryly, as he switched on the indicator and turned onto another road. She wondered how he could still concentrate on driving. She looked at his face as the sudden light from a streetlamp illuminated it, and it was as if he was carved from stone.
The streetlight passed and his voice came out of the darkness. 'I admitted I suspected something and didn't do enough, and the family wanted to sue me for the shirt off my back.' He gave that mirthless laugh she decided she hated.
'As if I'd care about that. They could have it all. I did care, very much, that I'd failed her. And her baby. I hadn't been able to save either of her children and now she had died in my care as well.'
He turned to Misty and rubbed his palm on his leg, as if to wipe away the despair. A truck approached and passed and in the moment of light she could see the pain in his furrowed brow, as if it was all still beyond his comprehension that it could have happened.
Misty laid her hand over his and squeezed his fingers in comfort. He looked surprised at first and then, as if unable to stop himself, he squeezed Misty's hand in gratitude.
He flicked a glance at her as if she too should condemn him. 'She'd previously been a normal mother. Postnatal depression affected her brain after the birth, which didn't allow her to cope with grief. I let her down. I've had to live with that. It's been hard.'
Even through his fingers Misty could feel the waves of despair, even after all this time, and she wondered out loud. 'How long ago did this happen?'
He took his hand out from under hers and put it back on the wheel, as if he'd had all the sympathy he deserved. 'Three years last November.' The lack of expression in his voice was sadder than anything.
'Who was there for you, Ben?' This had happened after the devestation of Bridget taking her own life and the custody battle for Tammy. It was a miracle he was sane.
She wanted to tell him to pull over so she could hug him and tell him he'd done his best. Somebody should have. 'And you left obstetrics after that?'
'I had no heart for it. And I didn't fancy letting anyone else down.'
'And your friends and colleagues?' Misty didn't understand. Didn't men talk to other men like women talked to each other? Like the midwives supported each other over sad events and the fickleness of nature? Obviously not. 'Your family? Have you talked to anyone else about this?'
'Sure,' he said, and she didn't like the undercurrent in that one word. 'I talked to my lawyer, the judge and the court.'
Not quite therapeutic. 'And?'
His tone was flat, like the judgment. 'The QC said perhaps I could have done more but it had been an unfortunate series of events out of my control. It was suggested I could do further studies in the psychiatry of obstetrics and document the findings. I left clinical obstetrics and did just that.'
Leaving a gaping hole where he should have completed the process of grief, Misty thought. He should have gone back to see the joyful side of birth again.
Ben went on. 'I settled half of my bank account on the family, despite the court ruling in my favour.'
He laughed mirthlessly yet again and Misty winced. 'The amusing part is that I've made another fortune with the reference book I wrote on the subject, but at least it might help identify other women at risk out there.
'All future royalties are shared between Tammy…' He hesitated as his daughter's disappearance caught up with him, then completed the sentence. 'And donated to Beyond Blue, an organisation dedicated to supporting sufferers of depression.'
He looked across at her. 'That was all I could do.'
Now Misty understood why Ben feared depression with Tammy's pregnancy. Because not only would he lose Tammy, he wouldn't be able to survive if any thing happened.
'When my patient died, I realised I'd failed another person. Bridget's mother took Tammy because she hated me for not being able to save her daughter. I still don't know what I could have done differently.'
He shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought. 'It doesn't matter. So I did what I could for Tammy from a distance. I grew to like my isolated life. My only visitors were Tammy for occasional weekends and my editor.'
Ah, Ben. She undid her seat belt and leaned across to kiss his cheek. Because she had to. 'You were hiding, but you can't hide any more because Tammy needs you.'
He looke
d at her as she buckled herself in again. 'And you.' He looked back at the road and then flicked another glance at Misty. 'You're the mermaid who dragged me from the ocean and made me join the world again.'
He paused and then said, 'Now I have to believe your "vision" that tells you Tammy is safe and at the beach house. Do you realise how hard that is for me? I escaped into the science of mental illness to distance myself from the things I didn't trust or identify with, and now because of you I have to go there again.'
Now she understood a little more. Why he fought against the concept of the birth centre where instinct and faith in the natural mechanisms of the human body were the most important things.
In context he'd done very well to be as calm as he had. And now he drove to the place she'd said his daughter would be. Not because of something he believed in but because he believed in her.
* * *
Tammy was at the beach house. Red-eyed from crying and huddled in the big squishy armchair with her arms wrapped around herself. 'I don't want to come back with you,' she said.
Ben looked at Misty and then back at his daughter and sighed. 'You can't have your baby by yourself. You need to have people who care about you for support.'
'You don't mean that. You're just saying that. I know you don't need me in your life now you've found Misty.' She turned away and Misty had no doubt it was to hide her tears. Ben was getting nowhere and she could tell he was hurting.
Misty looked at him and signalled with her eyes to give her a chance. Tammy was so young and any parent knew there were problems when an extra person appeared in family dynamics. Maybe Tammy would listen to her or at least tell her what she thought of her.
Tammy frowned as she watched her father leave and she untangled herself from the chair as if she was going to follow him. Then she turned back to Misty.
Her shoulders were hunched as she stood there with her arms folded on top of her big belly and glared at the interloper, or that was what Misty felt herself.
Misty wasn't sure where to start. 'Your father is trying. He wants to be there for you and your baby.'
'I don't need him.' Tammy sniffed. 'I don't need anybody.'
'Do you know who you sound like? Your father.' Misty felt like smiling but was sure Tammy would take it the wrong way if she did. 'Everybody needs somebody. That's what I'm trying to tell your father. There can never be too many people in your life. Come back to Lyrebird Lake. You have friends and family there.'
Tammy turned away. 'I don't have friends.'
'You have Emma and Louisa,' Misty said quietly. 'I thought Emma was going to come in with you when you have your baby. And Louisa and Ned are worried about you, and that's not good for them at their age.'
Tammy sniffed. 'I am sorry about that because they're all nice, but I'm not coming back.'
Misty moved to stand beside her. 'Things happen in life that we want to run away from, but that's not always the answer.'
Misty met Tammy's eyes. 'Yes, your father and I have found we might have something together, and I'm not sure if that's going to go somewhere yet or not, but what happens with us isn't a good reason for you to lose out.
'Do you really want to throw your chance away to share the early months of your baby with your family and friends? That's a gift some people don't have. It will be during one of the most important times in your life. The other options short-change you and your baby.'
Tammy turned her face away. 'I'd rather miss that than be in the way.'
Misty wanted to hug her but she was scared Tammy would push her away. 'Oh, Tammy. You won't be in the way. How could you? You drew Ben and I together when we would never have seen each other again. Thanks to you, I did get a chance to get to know someone who makes me feel as no one else has ever done. Your dad is an amazing man. And he loves you very much. I'd hate to be the cause of a separation between two people who have as special a bond as you and your dad.'
Tammy still fought being swayed but Misty could sense the change because even Tammy knew her arguments were thin.
When Tammy didn't speak Misty went on. 'What if you go into labour somewhere you don't know anybody? You'll be on your own except for the midwife. Not all hospitals are as peaceful as at the lake. You need to remember family is much more important than pride.'
'You're not my family,' Tammy said softly.
'Oh, Tammy.' Misty put her hand on Tammy's arm and squeezed it gently. 'I'd like to be.'
Tammy looked at her stone-faced. 'My father won't marry you.'
Misty's face remained serene. 'What makes you think he needs to?'
Tammy rolled her eyes. 'Anyone can see you two are besotted with each other.'
'I hope not,' Misty said, 'because we're not there yet. I don't think your father needs another relationship right now.'
Tammy's eyes narrowed. 'My mother killed herself when she was married to him.'
Misty's voice softened. 'And you think that's Ben's fault?'
'That's what my grandmother says.' Tammy didn't meet Misty's eyes.
Misty forgot about the horrible trip, the pain Tammy had caused her father and the selfishness of her youth, and just felt like hugging her. Poor kid. Misty tried to imagine losing her mother, then being told the other parent she loved was a monster.
There were some sad people in the world and Tammy's grandmother must be the saddest. 'I understand that's what your grandmother says—but what do you say, Tammy?' she asked quietly.
To Misty's relief Tammy shrugged her shoulders at the ridiculousness of the concept. 'You're kidding me. Of course it's not Dad's fault.'
Misty released the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Even if Tammy didn't believe it, there would be fallout from such a negative upbringing. Why had Ben left her with that woman? 'Do you think your father should spend his whole life being sorry that he couldn't save your mother?'
Tammy stood up and kicked a shoe across the room. 'Yes.'
Misty raised her eyebrows. 'Well, that was honest, at least. But doesn't he deserve to be happy?'
Tammy didn't say anything.
Misty took a step closer and her voice was quiet. 'You're not with your grandmother now, Tammy. You're old enough to have a baby and you're old enough to make your own decision about your father's culpability. You have to decide what you're going to tell your child. Think about what you really believe.'
Tears formed in Tammy's eyes and trickled down her cheeks. 'But if he didn't make her kill herself then it's my fault. Mum had postnatal depression after having me and it never went away.'
Misty stood up and went to the door. 'Ben, come in here, please.'
She risked tugging Tammy gently into her arms for a quick hug, and to her relief Tammy didn't push her away. 'Please, tell your father that because he needs to know that's how you feel.'
Ben appeared at the door and Misty let go of Tammy and gestured him in.
'Tammy,' she prompted, and looked encouragingly at Ben's daughter to share her fear with Ben.
'Mum had postnatal depression after having me and it never went away. It's my fault she died.'
Ben crossed the room and swept his daughter into his arms. 'That's not true, Tammy,' he said. 'Oh, baby. Your mother had an illness before she had you. She had depression and, like some illnesses do, it killed her. It's not your fault and, you know, it's not mine either. And—' his voice firmed '—it's not going to happen to you. I love you and worry about you a lot, and deep inside I know you would never do that.'
Suddenly Tammy burrowed her face in Ben's neck and hugged him. 'I do want to come back and it was so horrible at the bus station all by myself. Are you very cross with me?'
'No, baby. I love you,' Ben said.
Misty smiled at the both of them. 'Your father hates it when the people he loves are hurting. You should have seen him when he was coming to look for you. A wild bull couldn't have stopped him.'
Tammy smiled through her tears. 'He's a pretty cool dad, you know.' She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
'I'll come back.'
'I'm glad,' Misty said, and she had to tilt her head to see into Tammy's face. 'How come you got to be so beautiful and tall?'
'My dad's really tall,' she said as she looked at Ben, and they all laughed.
Ben held out his arm and Misty joined the group hug then she pulled back. 'I'll leave you two alone while I ring Louisa and Ned and tell them the good news.'
* * *
'Thank you. Misty.' Ben squeezed her hand which he seemed to have been holding for hours.
'Again,' he mocked himself. 'You seem to be making a habit of saving me. You realise you can't ever leave me or I'll backslide into the morose person I was before I met you.'
They stood on the veranda of the beach house and the moon was rising out of the waves in the distant ocean.
Misty looked at this man who had come into her life with such impact. Gorgeously imperfect but he knew he had faults and she'd begun to think he just needed to learn she loved him unconditionally. She'd just realised that herself.
'You don't have to do everything by yourself, Ben. If we're going to be a part of each other's lives you need to learn to let me into all of it, not just the easy bits.'
He pulled her against him and settled his arm around her shoulder. 'I've never been the type of guy to tell people what's happening inside me. I'd always believed men needed to be strong and in control. You don't play by those rules. You still think we have a chance?'
She looked up at him and rested the point of her finger on his chest and poked him gently. 'If you try.'
He laughed. 'Ow. I'm trying.'
Misty resisted the impulse to poke him again but he knew she wanted to. 'Then try harder.'
He dropped a kiss on her lips and then another, as if he couldn't settle for just that one, then he put her away from him. 'Come for a walk on the beach. I'd like to show you my special haunts.'
She recognised that buzz that ran up her arm and down into her belly. 'Are you planning to try and seduce me?'
'That, too,' he said, and his eyes met hers with wicked warmth that left no doubt of his meaning.
'What about Tammy?' Misty glanced into the house.
The Midwife's New-Found... Page 11
