Silence.
‘How’s school? You settling back in?’ he asks.
‘Kind of. They think I’m a snob for going off to boarding school. But I’m breaking them down.’
He laughs.
‘They’re OK though. We’re the same.’
‘Are you all right for everything?’
‘Yeah. Mum did a big shop yesterday.’
Rory takes that as a positive sign.
‘Have you seen your dad?’
‘Are you mad? D’you really think I want to be over there watching her bump get bigger? Anyway, Mum needs me.’
‘Would you like me to bring you to see your gran?’
‘OK.’ Her voice sounds upbeat for the first time. ‘Is she OK?’
‘She’s OK. Seeing you will cheer her up.’
Louise is twenty-five weeks pregnant now. It’s a week before her next antenatal visit and Rory, anxious to know how the pregnancy is progressing, has no excuse to see her. So he makes one up, buying a Dorling Kindersley guide to pregnancy. It looks good. Seems to have everything in it. Would be handy to have. He wonders if he’ll get a chance to feel the baby move again.
He calls in to her in the flower shop, Thursday evening, after work. She is alone. And surprised to see him. She puts down the bucket of flowers she was filling with fresh water. Dries her hands.
‘Got you this,’ he says, handing her the book.
‘Oh. Thanks.’ She flicks through it.
A customer comes in to the shop. She puts the book down and Rory stands aside while she serves him.
‘Your ankles are swollen,’ Rory says, when the man has left.
‘Thanks for pointing that out,’ she says, picking the book back up.
‘You should put your feet up.’
‘Where do you suggest? On the counter?’ She nods towards the high stool behind it. ‘One way of frightening off the customers.’
‘Maybe you should hire someone to do your evenings.’ He knows Naomi can’t cover because of Jason.
‘Or I could just hide my legs.’
‘Might be good to rest, though, in the evenings.’
‘I’ll see.’ Her voice has an edge to it that implies, ‘Enough advice thanks.’
But he doesn’t hear it. ‘Let me see your hands.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘You’re determined to humiliate me.’ She holds out swollen fingers.
‘I’d like to check your blood pressure.’
‘Rory, this is a florist’s, not a doctor’s surgery. I’ve been on my feet all day. No wonder everything’s swollen.’
‘Still, let me take your blood pressure.’
‘No.’
‘Humour me.’
‘I’m pregnant. Not sick.’
‘Does the swelling go down when you rest?’
‘Yes,’ she says quickly. ‘Now, leave me alone.’
‘Let me check it anyway.’
‘All right. Check it. If it makes you happy.’ She sounds like she’s given up.
‘I have to go get a sphyg. I’ll just pop over to Barry’s.’
‘Pop over?’ They both know it’ll take an hour, there and back.
‘I’m doing nothing else.’ He’s picking up his keys.
Her voice softens. ‘Rory, you wouldn’t do me a big favour? You wouldn’t get me a tub of toffee Häagen-Daz while you’re out?’
He smiles. ‘Sure.’
When he returns, it’s with two tubs of ice cream, Barry’s sphygmomanometer and a urine testing kit stuffed into his pocket.
He takes Louise’s blood pressure.
‘What’s it usually?’ he asks, when he removes the cuff.
‘I don’t know. Fine.’
‘She doesn’t tell you the reading?’
‘Why? It wouldn’t mean anything to me.’
‘It’s up a little bit more than the norm.’
‘You’re putting it up.’ But then she looks at him. ‘How up?’
‘Not a lot, but it’d help if I knew your baseline. I need you to give me a sample of urine.’
‘Rory.’
He hands her a little glass jar he got from Barry. ‘Pee.’
She snatches it. Disappears into the back. When she reappears, she hands it to him in silence. He tests it, checking the dipstick against the colour-coded label on the side of a dark brown jar.
‘Traces of protein,’ he says, looking up.
‘What does that mean?’ She is beginning to sound concerned.
‘Does the swelling really go down when you rest?’
She flushes. ‘Not always. What is it?’
‘Is your weight going up?’
‘It’s supposed to be.’
‘I know, but fast?’
‘I haven’t weighed myself. But at the last check-up they said the weight was fine.’
‘That was three weeks ago. Have you been getting headaches?’
‘Yeah. But I always get headaches. What’s wrong? You’re worrying me now.’
‘I think we should go to the hospital.’
Her eyes widen.
‘Just to check you out. I’m not an obstetrician, but I think you might have pre-eclampsia, high blood pressure in pregnancy.’
‘But you said it wasn’t high.’
‘Well, it’s not. But it is up. And I don’t have a baseline to compare with. I think we’d be better off checking it out.’
‘You want me to close the shop?’
‘You’ve what, an hour left? I’ll wait and bring you to the hospital when it’s up.’
She looks worried. ‘No. If there’s a problem, we’ll go. I’ll close early.’
They arrive at the outpatient area, which is open for out-of-hour emergencies. There’s a couple in front of them. The woman is very young and thin. She doesn’t look pregnant. She’s crying. Her partner has his arm around her.
‘You know,’ Rory says to Louise, ‘this isn’t an emergency. We’re just being careful, OK?’
‘OK.’ But she looks nervous.
Their turn comes and a midwife shows them in. She takes ‘a history’, asking Louise when her last menstrual period was and the estimated date of delivery.
‘It’s all in my chart,’ Louise says, impatient.
‘Your chart is on its way,’ the nurse says, unruffled. She asks about foetal movements. How many in the last twelve hours?
Louise sounds hassled. ‘I don’t know. I was working. Busy. I didn’t count them. Was I supposed to? I mean the baby did kick. I’m sure it was the usual number of times. Nothing seemed wrong.’ She puts her hands on the bump. ‘Nothing seemed wrong.’
‘I’m sure all’s well. Let’s listen to the baby,’ she says calmly, as though to reassure Louise. She helps her up onto a bench and applies a simple listening device to her abdomen. When she looks up, she smiles. ‘Baby’s heart is fine.’
Louise lets out a sigh of relief. As does Rory.
The nurse checks Louise’s blood pressure and compares it to the baseline readings in the chart that has just arrived. Rory would kill for a peek.
‘Is it OK?’ Louise asks.
‘Well, it’s up a bit.’
‘How much?’ Rory asks.
The nurse looks at him and seems to gather he knows what he is talking about. ‘Well, it’s normally on the low side, ninety-five over seventy, around that. At the moment it’s one-fifty over ninety-eight.’
For Louise’s benefit, Rory nods as if to say ‘nothing to worry about’. Inside he doesn’t feel so blasé.
The midwife checks Louise’s weight and, in answer to a question from Rory, admits that it is up fifteen pounds in three weeks.
‘That’s bad, isn’t it?’ Louise asks, sounding panicky.
‘It’s a bit more than we’d like at this point. You’re retaining some fluid. I’m just going to check your sample,’ she says, picking up the tiny jar of urine Louise gave her when she came in. ‘Then I’ll call the house doctor to have a look at you.’ Her smile is reassuring.
‘How is the protein?’ Rory asks.
The nurse looks at him, squinting. ‘Do you’ve a medical background?’
‘I’m a neurology reg.’
She nods slowly and Rory knows that from this moment on he and Louise will be treated differently. The unwritten rule will be applied: doctor involved, don’t mess up.
‘Plus one for protein,’ she says. Then to Louise, ‘I’m just going to hook you up to this for a little while. It gives us a reading of the baby’s heart. Everything’s fine,’ she reassures. ‘The doctor will just want to see a reading.’
When the house doctor arrives, the nurse briefs him in a side room.
When he emerges, he introduces himself and explains that he is going to run some blood tests. He lists off to Rory what they are. Then turns to Louise.
‘Do you know what pre-eclampsia is?’
Louise glances at Rory then back at the doctor. ‘High blood pressure in pregnancy.’
‘Exactly. And has anyone in your family had pre-eclampsia?’
‘I don’t know. There was only my mother. And she’d never talk about anything like that.’
‘Not to worry. Well, you are showing signs of pre-eclampsia.’
Louise looks at Rory again.
‘We’re going to admit you for the moment for observation and bed-rest. We want to keep an eye on your blood pressure and the baby. I’m going to organize an ultrasound of your abdomen now, just to make sure that everything’s one hundred per cent.’
While the nurse and doctor are busy getting things ready, Louise whispers to Rory, ‘I thought you were just fussing.’
‘I was.’
‘But what if you hadn’t checked my blood pressure?’
‘They’d have picked it up on your next visit.’
‘Next week. What if it was too late?’
‘We’re here now. You’re in good hands. You’re safe. The baby’s safe.’
‘What about the shop?’ she asks. ‘Who’ll open up tomorrow?’
‘Naomi?’ How things have changed, he thinks – there was a time when he wouldn’t have trusted Naomi with anything.
‘She doesn’t have a key. I should have given her a key. Shown how much I trust her.’
‘Why don’t I call her? Maybe she can come here early and pick up the key?’
‘She has to get Jason to school.’
‘All right then, after. I think it’ll be all right if for once the shop opens late.’
She nods. ‘OK.’ Then looks as if something has just occurred to her. ‘How long will I be in here? I can’t be here any longer than tomorrow. There’s the ordering…’
‘Louise. Let’s think about that tomorrow, OK? For now, let’s just concentrate on getting your blood pressure down.’
Louise is admitted, arriving in the ward by wheelchair, despite her telling them she’d prefer to walk. Now, two nurses wheel a bed containing another patient out of the single room that is across from the nurses’ station to make way for her.
‘I don’t mind sharing,’ she says, embarrassed.
The nurse smiles. ‘We’re doing this for the other patients as much as for you. We’ll be in and out a lot during the night, checking your blood pressure. Better for everyone if you’re in a room on your own. I’ll just give you this gown. When you’ve changed into it, hop into bed.’
A fresh bed is moved into the room. Louise is wheeled in beside it.
‘I’ll give you a moment,’ the nurse says. ‘And I’ll be straight in to you.’
While Louise is changing, Rory waits outside. When he sees the house doctor stride onto the ward, he stops him. ‘Everything’s OK, right? Everything’s under control? The baby’s only twenty-five weeks.’
‘The blood pressure is still rising. I’m going to start a mag sulphate drip to prevent convulsions and apresoline to keep the BP down.’
‘What is it now?’
The doctor hesitates. ‘One eighty over one ten.’
‘Jesus. You have to get it down.’
‘That’s the plan.’ The doctor pushes past him, into the nurses’ station. Seconds later, he strides out, carrying an IV tray and accompanied by a nurse who is pushing a drip. They disappear into Louise’s room. Outside, Rory is beginning to panic. A blood pressure that high is dangerous to mother and baby. If they don’t get it down, they’ll have to do an emergency section. The baby’s lungs aren’t fully developed. It might not survive. As soon as the doctor emerges, Rory is behind him. ‘There’s a steroid you can give, isn’t there, for the baby’s lungs, to help develop surfactant.’
‘There is.’
‘How soon can you give it?’
‘We’re going to give it now.’
‘Has her consultant been informed?’
‘Yes. We’ve been speaking over the phone. And we’re keeping her posted. She’ll come in if the BP goes up any further.’
When Rory goes back into the room, he senses that an effort is being made to keep the atmosphere calm. A nurse is saying to Louise, ‘We’ll leave this attached to your arm so as not to disturb you.’ It’s the cuff of a sphygmomanometer. Louise is hooked up to a drip and attached to a foetal heart monitor. ‘I’ll leave you in peace now,’ the nurse says and goes.
‘You don’t have to stay,’ Louise says to Rory. ‘I’ll be fine now. Thanks for everything.’
He doesn’t want to leave until he’s sure the BP is down. He checks his watch. ‘I’m all right for another while.’
The doctor is back. He explains to Louise why he’s giving her a steroid injection.
‘What have the baby’s lungs to do with my blood pressure?’ she asks, confused.
‘Well, in some cases of pre-eclampsia, if the blood pressure gets too high we sometimes have to perform a Caesarean section.’
She looks shocked. ‘I can’t have a Caesarean section now. The baby.’ She looks desperately at Rory. ‘I can’t. I won’t.’
Rory’s surprised and heartened by the force of her reaction. She wants this baby as much as he does.
‘We haven’t come anywhere near that,’ the doctor says, in a voice that seems designed to induce calm. ‘This is just a precaution. Neither you nor baby is in danger at the moment.’
‘But we could be, is that what you’re saying?’
Rory doesn’t think the doctor is handling this very well.
‘You’re on medication now and resting. We’re monitoring you very carefully. We’ll get that blood pressure down.’
‘And if you don’t?’
The doctor looks her straight in the eye. ‘If you or the baby is in danger, we will have to operate.’
By eleven o’clock Louise’s blood pressure has stopped climbing.
‘You should go,’ she says to Rory. ‘I’ll be fine.’ Her voice is drowsy, her eyelids droopy. She yawns. ‘This stuff is making me so tired.’
‘Sleep,’ Rory says. ‘I’ll just wait here another half hour.’
She seems relieved to close her eyes.
He sits watching her, and the nurses coming and going. He hopes they can get the blood pressure down. And keep it there. This baby needs time.
By one a.m. Louise is deeply asleep and her blood pressure has finally started to edge down ever so slowly. Rory feels he can go.
As soon as he gets home though, he calls the hospital and is relieved to hear that her BP is still heading in the right direction. He sets his alarm for six-thirty.
When he wakes he rings again. Louise’s BP has fallen continually throughout the night. It is still above normal, but not dangerously. Rory gets ready for work. On his way he makes a detour to Naomi’s flat, where he drops off the keys to the shop, an idea that occurred to him during the night while watching Louise sleep.
Naomi is concerned about Louise, but not about opening up on her own. She has learnt the ropes, she says, and is glad to be able to do this for Louise. Rory gets to work early, knowing he may have to leave later. The time is close to eleven, and he assumes that Louise’s doctors will have
seen her by now. He calls her ward and is relieved to discover that they’re keeping her in. She can rest while they keep an eye on her blood pressure and the baby. He asks a nurse to tell her that he’ll drop by at lunchtime.
‘I can’t believe they’re keeping me in,’ Louise says to him when he arrives. ‘They say my blood pressure’s fine.’
‘It was very high. They have to be careful. Make sure it stays down. Certainly for a few days. They’re doing the right thing.’
‘But the shop.’
‘I got the keys to Naomi early this morning. She opened on time, and seems happy on her own.’
‘But what about the afternoon?’
‘I’ll collect Jason from school and bring him to the shop. Naomi said he can do his homework there and then help her. He likes it there. It’s peaceful.’
‘Are you sure you can take time off? You’re already missing work by being here.’
‘It’s fine. I’ll make up the time.’
‘Thanks, Rory.’ She smiles at him.
‘Do you need me to get stuff?’
‘It’s OK.’ She mentions the name of a friend.
He wants to be the one to do it. Wants to have a role. ‘I’ll get it. Just tell me what you need.’
She makes a list for him. ‘I feel so useless,’ she says.
‘I don’t see why. The baby needs you to take it easy. And that’s what you’re doing. You’re anything but useless.’
That evening, when he calls back with Louise’s things, he finds Naomi visiting – this after running the shop singlehandedly for the day. While Jason puts the flowers they brought into water, Naomi is updating her boss on the day’s business, looking as if she’s thriving on the responsibility. When Louise thanks her and tells her how much she appreciates it, Naomi’s own gratitude is clear.
‘I’m just glad of the chance to do something for you.’
Rory feels guilty that he ever doubted her. She is a strong woman, just needed an opportunity to show it. Rory puts the stuff down, silently salutes the two women, then winks at Jason. He’s pleased that the boy is here. He can explain about the party. What must he have thought when he found Rory gone?
‘Want to go get a Coke?’ he asks Jason.
And just like that, it’s back to the way it was. Rory puts his hand on Jason’s shoulder as they walk from the room to find a coffee shop.
Do You Want What I Want? Page 28
