Maternal Instinct

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘Whatever you say,’ Molly replied softly. ‘Here—tea. And I have a feeling there are some rather lovely chocolates kicking around somewhere. Let’s go and top up our iron. Did you know chocolate is a good source of iron? That’s why women crave it so much at the time of their periods. And childbirth is just another massive waste of haemoglobin, so I’ve got lots of topping up to do!’

  And, bless her heart, she didn’t say another word, just fed Eve chocolates and tea and let her cuddle little Max, and as Eve stared down into his tiny, perfect features, she felt a huge ache building in her chest.

  If only her life wasn’t so mapped out. If only Hugh didn’t have kids already. If only she hadn’t promised her father, made herself this stupid timetable that she was so determined to stick to if it killed her…

  ‘It’ll be all right, Eve,’ Molly murmured, touching her shoulder gently. ‘Don’t cry.’

  She hadn’t even realised she was.

  ‘I love him,’ she said tearfully.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I can’t, Molly. I can’t do it. It scares me to death, and anyway I promised.’

  ‘Who?’

  She gulped, took a steadying breath, bit her lip to hold back another wave of tears. ‘My father. He was dying. My brother always disappointed him so much, and I thought if I could do it…’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Be a doctor. He wanted my brother to follow in his footsteps, and he’d watched him wasting his life with disappointment in his eyes, and so I told him I’d do it. Work harder, pass my exams, become a doctor. A surgeon. A good one, I told him. The best. And I’m going to do it, Molly, I have to, and I can’t let Hugh get in the way.’

  Molly reached over and lifted Max from Eve’s arms, settled him into his crib and then gathered Eve into her warm and motherly embrace. ‘My poor, poor girl,’ she said softly, rocking Eve while she cried stupid, scalding tears of grief and frustration and guilt. And Molly, bless her, didn’t say another word, just let her cry, and then mopped her up and took her for a walk in the garden, showing her the flowers, the apple tree, sitting with her in the spring sunshine and letting the emotional storm recede.

  A car pulled up on the drive, and Molly stood up. ‘It’s Sam. Are you OK now, or do you want a bit longer?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m OK. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. My guess is you’ve needed to get that out for a long time. Come and have another cup of tea. Sam’ll be dying for one.’

  Eve followed her slowly, giving her time to greet her husband with a hug and a kiss. She didn’t know if Molly said anything to him, but he glanced up at her and smiled and said nothing about her tear-stained face or the rather wobbly smile that was all she could come up with.

  ‘How’s the baby?’ he was asking, and Molly laughed.

  ‘Quiet now, at last.’

  ‘Excellent. Ten minutes’ peace. God, what a hectic day. I’ve had one emergency after another, and I feel drained.’ He flopped down into a kitchen chair, yawned hugely and stretched his long legs out across the floor, his eyes closed.

  ‘He’ll be asleep in a minute and get a crick in his neck,’ Molly said fondly, but Eve had seen enough. Sam was tired, Molly needed a rest, and she herself didn’t need any more domestic bliss this afternoon. Anyway, she was feeling a little foolish after unravelling all over Molly like that, and she wanted to crawl away and hide for a while.

  ‘I’m off now, Molly,’ she said softly. ‘Thanks for the tea.’

  And sympathy.

  The words hung in the air, and Molly gave a gentle smile, nearly reducing Eve to tears again. ‘You’re welcome. Thank you for the baby’s present—I haven’t even opened it. How rude of me, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, it’s nothing.’

  ‘Come and see me again soon. I feel a bit cut off at the moment.’

  ‘Baby blues?’

  Molly smiled. ‘A bit. And with the other three running around, I’m not exactly resting!’

  ‘You take care. I’ll see you soon.’

  She kissed Molly’s cheek and left, driving home via the supermarket. If she was going to Hugh’s for supper, she ought to take something—a bottle of wine, some flowers, chocolates. No, not chocolates. She’d eaten so many at Molly’s that even the thought turned her stomach.

  Wine, then. That was safe. And flowers, just because nobody ever took men flowers, and it seemed unfair.

  She arrived home at six-thirty, showered and was about to dry her hair when her entryphone buzzed.

  ‘Hello?’ she said, glad that whoever it was couldn’t see her wrapped only in a towel with her wet hair stuck all round her face.

  ‘Eve, it’s me. Can I come up?’

  ‘Hugh—um, sure, of course.’

  Damn. She’d wanted to get herself together more, to put on her make-up and get her emotional ducks in a row, but he was there, at the door, and gathering her gently into his arms and hugging her, soggy towel and all. ‘I’m sorry, I’m horribly early, but I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I rather dumped all that on you earlier, and I’ve been feeling guilty. I came round at five, but you weren’t here.’

  ‘I was at Molly’s,’ she said, easing out of his arms and flashing him a quick smile. ‘Let me throw on some clothes and dry my hair or it’ll just go into a mass of curls.’

  ‘Good. I love curls.’ And he reached for her again, drawing her back into his arms, his lips finding hers and sipping, stroking, trailing a line of fire over her jaw, her collar-bone, down to the top of the towel, then his fingers were freeing the towel, letting it slide to her feet. ‘You are so beautiful,’ he said gruffly, then with a ragged sigh he drew her back into his arms and kissed her again.

  ‘We’ll be late, the kids will know what we’re doing,’ she protested, and he lifted his head.

  ‘Does that worry you?’

  ‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’

  He grinned a little off-kilter and let her go. ‘Me, too. Go on, get dressed and let’s get this over with. It’ll be fine.’

  She didn’t believe him for a moment, but she dried her hair, pulled on her clothes and came out of the bedroom to find him standing in her kitchen, looking at the flowers.

  ‘Got an admirer?’ he asked, inclining his head towards them, and she thought she saw a flash of jealousy.

  She debated teasing him, but then thought better of it. ‘They’re for you,’ she told him, feeling a little foolish now. ‘I’ve got you a bottle of red as well, but it’s probably horrible, knowing my skill with wine. That’s why I got the flowers.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ he said, frowning down at the colourful spring bouquet. He reached out and touched the blooms with gentle fingers, then lifted his head, and she saw that he was really struggling. ‘They’re lovely. Thank you,’ he said, his voice gruff.

  ‘You probably think I’m silly, but nobody ever gives men flowers, and they were so pretty…’

  His smile was crooked. ‘I don’t think you’re silly at all,’ he said, reeling her into his arms and burying his face in her neck. ‘They are lovely, and so are you, but if you really, really want to get out of here in the next hour or so, we’d better go now, before I change my mind and drag you off to bed…’

  CHAPTER NINE

  MOLLY was right, Hugh’s kids were really very decent young people.

  Kelly was there, too, and Eve wondered if she’d say anything about having bumped into met her at the clinic, but she just said, ‘Hi, Eve,’ in a friendly way, and that was that. Nothing to trigger Lucy’s curiosity.

  Although she’d probably told her by now, if Tom hadn’t. It would have been only natural for them to talk about their discovery while Hugh had been collecting Eve. But there was no suggestion that they had, not a single curious look, nothing to indicate that anything had changed, and after a few minutes Eve found to her surprise that she was relaxed and enjoying their lively and cheerful company.

  The only slightly worrying m
oment came when they were about to eat. They were in the kitchen, collecting dishes and plates to take through to the dining room, and Hugh frowned at Kelly’s fingers. ‘That pressure bandage is too tight,’ he murmured. ‘Come here, let me loosen it for you.’

  And with deft, gentle fingers, the fingers Eve had come to know so well, he unwound the fine stretchy bandage on her left upper arm and reapplied it, still firmly enough to hold the implant in place but not so firmly that it cut off Kelly’s circulation and made her hand swell. ‘Better?’ he asked, and Kelly nodded, flexing her fingers with relief.

  ‘Much better. Thank you, Hugh.’ She smiled shyly at Eve and said, ‘I had an implant today. I had to have one. I’ve got a brain like a sieve, but I’d much rather be on the Pill.’

  Eve’s heart hiccuped. What was she supposed to say to that? Tell Kelly that, yes, she’d rather be on the Pill, too, which was why they’d given her a prescription at the clinic and she’d taken her first one this evening at six-thirty? She was struggling for some noncommittal reply when Tom chipped in, to her relief.

  ‘I’d much rather you had the implant, or eighteen years down the line this could be us,’ he said with a chuckle, and Hugh rolled his eyes.

  ‘Please, God, no. I’m not old enough to be a grandfather. I’m not even sure I’m old enough to be a father yet!’

  ‘Oh, poor Grandpa,’ Lucy teased, patting him on the head, and he ducked and swatted her retreating behind.

  ‘That’ll be quite enough of that, madam,’ he said. ‘Come on, the food’s going to get cold.’

  And he ushered them through to the dining room, the moment safely past, and Eve relaxed again and allowed herself to enjoy the rich, delicious casserole Hugh had cooked for them. It was such a pleasure to eat something like that. Living alone meant eating things cooked in small portions, with no big hearty family meals like this ever getting with spitting distance of her menu, but she didn’t envy him having to get home at the end of a busy day and cook for three or four people, every night of the week.

  And the food shopping must be a nightmare, she thought, marvelling that he managed to do it all and hold the family together with such a busy and demanding job. They were a credit to him, she realised, and he was a warm and wonderful father to them both.

  She felt overawed by it—by the logistics of it, by the warmth and affection and obvious love that ran like threads of gold through every aspect of their relationship. What would it have been like, she wondered, to have been brought up by a father like Hugh? He never, ever, looked at Lucy as if she was a disappointment.

  Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away quickly and forced herself to concentrate on the conversation. Not that it was exactly demanding. Tom and Kelly were debating where they were going later, and Lucy was telling Hugh about Amy’s latest exploits with a boy she’d never heard of, and all she had to do was listen.

  ‘Hey, let’s go clubbing!’ Kelly said finally. ‘Hugh, why don’t you and Eve come with us? That would be wicked, seeing the old folks boogie!’

  Hugh groaned and laughed. ‘Good grief. I’m not sure I’m up to being the entertainment, are you, Eve?’

  She shook her head, smiling ruefully. ‘Sorry. It’s not top of my list. Too old, I guess.’

  ‘That’s crazy, you aren’t old! How old are you? I bet you’re not even thirty yet,’ Kelly said with the refreshing honesty of youth.

  ‘Twenty-seven,’ she replied, and watched Tom work it out.

  ‘That’s really weird. I’m almost eighteen, and Dad’s thirty-five, so you’re just about halfway between us. Wow.’

  ‘Is that meant to make me feel older or younger?’ Hugh asked drily. ‘Because I have to say it makes me feel a heck of a lot older than all of you.’

  ‘Oh, poor old man,’ Eve teased, and his mouth twitched.

  You’ll pay for that later, his eyes seemed to say, and she had to bite her lips to stop the laughter from bubbling up.

  ‘So, as watching the old folks make fools of themselves is clearly off the agenda, where are you going?’ he asked, changing the subject back again, and the wrangling continued until they’d agreed a venue that Hugh felt was appropriate for Lucy as well. Finally they set off, after arranging to collect Amy on the way and promising to be back at a reasonable hour.

  As the door slammed behind them at last, Hugh sagged against the wall and rolled his eyes laughingly. ‘They can be such hard work.’

  ‘They’re lovely,’ she said, surprised that she meant it. Not that she wanted to look after them, ever, but for the odd meal, they were fine.

  ‘They are lovely,’ he agreed, ‘but they’re relentless. Come on, let me take you home. We’ve got about two hours of peace and I intend to take advantage of every second of them.’

  ‘What about the clearing up?’ she said, staring in dismay at the kitchen, but he shook his head.

  ‘I’ll do it later. Come on, time to see just how old this old man is,’ he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. His eyes sparkled with laughter and promise, and Eve felt her breath catch in her throat.

  She eased closer to him, feeling his body’s instant response. ‘Do we have to waste time moving to mine? Can’t we just stay here?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. Knowing my luck, one of them will have forgotten something and they’ll come back and catch us, and I really, really don’t think I feel ready for that yet!’

  ‘No,’ Eve agreed hastily. That was absolutely the last thing she wanted. Knowing was one thing. Living proof was quite another!

  That weekend heralded a change in their relationship.

  Although they still spent many wonderful, intimate hours in her apartment, they also spent time at his house, both with and without the company of his children, and to her surprise Eve didn’t find it nearly as bad as she’d expected.

  But they were busy at work, and Hugh was putting more and more responsibility on her, so their down time was pretty limited. Work, however, was anything but limited.

  She’d done sections, repairs, amniocenteses, forceps and ventouse deliveries, and she’d done a difficult hysterectomy for fibroids with only minimal help.

  Then one morning when she was down in A and E, the young SHO caught her as she was leaving. ‘I’ve just seen a patient with abdo pain—it looks like a classic appendix but she’s had a positive pregnancy test. Can you have a look?’

  Her blood ran cold. Appendix, or ectopic? ‘OK, what’s the story?’

  ‘Pain in the right iliac fossa, sweating, slightly pyrexial, nausea, vomiting.’

  ‘Any blood loss?’

  ‘No—I don’t think so. Her blood pressure’s fine, but I’d like you to take a look at her. I’m pretty sure it’s a straight appendix, but I didn’t want to take any chances.’

  ‘No. I agree. Let me see her. What’s her name?’

  ‘Jenny Field.’

  She went into the cubicle, assessing the patient visually as well as shuffling the information the SHO had given her. The patient was pale, with spots of colour on her cheeks and a faint sheen of sweat on her skin. Eve smiled at the young woman and put her hand comfortingly on her shoulder. ‘Hi, Jenny, I’m Eve, I’m a gynae registrar. I just want to have a look at you and ask you a few questions, if I may?’

  Jenny nodded, answered as well as she could and cried out when Eve palpated her abdomen. She had rebound tenderness, but the pain was continuous, and with appendicitis she might have expected it to come and go a little. It was looking more and more like an ectopic, and she was determined not to mess this up. ‘OK, I think the first thing I want to do is an ultrasound to have a look and see what’s going on.’

  ‘I thought it was appendicitis. What do you think it is?’ Jenny asked worriedly.

  ‘I’m not sure. It might be something to do with the pregnancy, or it could still be appendicitis. The ultrasound will tell us. When was your last period?’

  ‘About two months ago, maybe a bit more? I’m not very regular.’

 
‘OK. I’ll just arrange a few tests, and I’ll be back.’

  Eve bleeped Hugh. He was in Theatre but he should be finished by now, and she needed his expertise.

  ‘I’m in A and E. Query ectopic,’ she told him, and he came down so fast she knew the alarm bells were ringing.

  ‘How’s she presenting?’

  ‘Like a woman with appendicitis,’ she said, ‘but I’ve seen hundreds of them in my last rotation and she’s not quite fitting the mould. I want to scan her, but her LMP was only nine or so weeks ago, and it might need a transvaginal scan to pick up anything.’

  He nodded abruptly. ‘OK. Let’s have a look at her and make sure. Don’t want to miss anything.’

  So yet again Jenny was prodded, and they scanned her. And, sure enough, she had a tubal pregnancy that was on the point of rupture.

  ‘Jenny, I’m afraid you’ve got a problem,’ he said gently. ‘The egg’s implanted in the wrong place, and it’s trying to grow inside your Fallopian tube. I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do except remove it before it ruptures the tube and causes severe haemorrhaging.’

  She stared at him, her eyes filling. ‘Are you sure? Isn’t there any way it can stay there?

  He shook his head. ‘No. I’m really very sorry, but I’m afraid your pregnancy isn’t viable. The tube simply isn’t big enough to contain the developing foetus, and at some point in the near future it will rupture, and the foetus will die. If we don’t act, it could kill you, too.’

  ‘No. I don’t believe you. I wouldn’t die—that’s a wild exaggeration!’

  Eve held her breath, watching him closely for any subtle hint of grief, but there was none. Just a firming of his lips. ‘Unfortunately not,’ he said evenly. ‘Ectopic pregnancy is the commonest cause of maternal mortality in the first trimester. I’m really sorry, Jenny, but there’s nothing we can do. Your symptoms indicate that your Fallopian tube is beginning to rupture. You need an emergency operation to remove it, and it’s much better to do it now in a controlled way than later in a tearing hurry because you’re bleeding severely.’