by Lucy Clark
‘Even if I return to Sydney, I won’t be allowed to practise at the hospital. I’m on an enforced sabbatical, remember.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ She frowned. ‘The last thing we need is for your stress level to go through the roof again.’
‘Then me moving out of your home is the most obvious solution to our present dilemma.’ He stood and looked down at the sleeping babe, knowing he would miss her a lot. It was quite incredible the way that holding the baby in his arms had not only helped to keep his stress level under control but had also helped him become reconciled with the loss of his own child. Seeing Elizabeth laugh and cry and pull all sorts of other funny faces had helped him to imagine what Ellie might have been like if she’d had the chance. But where Elizabeth de-stressed him, being so near to, so close to her mother had a completely different effect.
‘Is being near Elizabeth too difficult for you?’ CJ asked.
‘No. Not Elizabeth.’
‘Ah. Being near me is difficult.’
‘Well, of course it is, CJ.’ He raked a hand through his hair in total frustration. ‘I can’t be in the same room as you without wanting to drag you into my arms. I want to talk to you, spend time with you, see more of the countryside with you. Then reality sets in and I realise this isn’t where I belong. I have work, CJ, important work back in Sydney.’
‘That’s your existence, Ethan. Where’s your real life? The happiness?’
He turned and looked out the window into the dark night. He was silent for so long she didn’t think he was going to answer. She was just about to leave when he said softly, ‘I don’t know.’
The emotions she felt for him rose up and overflowed. Slowly, she walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He tensed but when she didn’t move, he shifted slightly so they were facing each other. They held each other, both content just to be. Ethan had never felt comfort like this before, never felt so calm and peaceful.
How long they stood there neither of them were sure but in the end CJ’s yawn broke the moment.
‘I’ll think about whether I want to break the contract,’ he stated softly. ‘I’m just not sure.’
‘OK. If you want to move out, I completely understand. You were never really comfortable here in the first place.’
‘I like it here.’ He looked down into her face, gazing at her lips. ‘I like it too much. That’s now the problem.’
‘I know.’ She waited for a moment, watching him intently. ‘It’s crazy, isn’t it...this thing between us?’
‘Yes.’ Ethan pulled superhuman strength from somewhere and gently released her from his arms. ‘It’s so...real. So powerful and intense.’
‘Yes—but we can’t, Ethan. I can’t.’
He shook his head. ‘Wait—why can’t we, CJ? Tell me why?’
‘Why? Because soon you’ll be gone, Ethan. At the end of your time here, you’ll head back to Sydney to your work. I’m not in that picture, and although I’d love nothing better than to be with you, it wouldn’t work out—for many reasons.’
‘This isn’t just about me leaving, CJ. I know it’s going to be hard for you to trust someone after Quinten and that’s quite normal but I had hoped...that somehow I’d be able to show you not all men are lying cheats.’
‘I understand that, Ethan, but—’
‘Have I shown you that? Do you think that you could trust me?’
Ethan stood at the door to the lounge room, facing her—like a showdown at high noon. CJ didn’t need this kind of questioning, didn’t want to be put on the spot, and she certainly wasn’t sure she could give him a direct answer. She glanced down at the floor before slowly returning to meet his gaze.
‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘Yes I think...in time... I could trust you, Ethan, and that fact alone scares me to death.’ She bit her lip as it quivered, her eyes as wide as saucers—wearing her heart on her sleeve. ‘I could trust you, I do trust you—to a certain extent, and even that has surprised me. I trust you one hundred percent in a professional capacity, I trust you with Elizabeth...’ She smiled as she said her daughter’s name. ‘You’re so good with her, so natural.’
‘And do you trust me with you?’
The smile slipped away and CJ felt the tears threatening behind her eyes, felt her throat constrict as she desperately tried to swallow. ‘I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that,’ she whispered—a tear escaping and sliding slowly down her cheek. ‘If I take the risk, if I give you my heart then I... I...’ She shook her head, unable to continue.
‘It’s all right.’ He wanted to go to her. He wanted it so badly and he could tell she wanted him to hold her but both of them stood their ground. ‘It was a foolish question to have asked in the first place. Goodnight. I’ll let you get some sleep while Elizabeth’s sleeping.’
Ethan turned and stalked to the bathroom, stripping off his clothes. He turned on the taps and stepped beneath the spray, willing the water to soothe his aching muscles. At least he could do something about the physical aches he was feeling.
Why had it cut him straight to the heart when she’d been unable to answer that question? She was right! He was leaving in five months’ time to return to his life in Sydney and the uncontrollable chemistry that existed between them would wither and die when he left.
He scrubbed shampoo into his hair and rinsed it. Things between the two of them had gone too far, too fast and now they were both thoroughly confused. He wrenched off the taps and towelled himself dry.
Once he was dressed, he swallowed some paracetamol and settled down to work. Even though it was close to three o’clock in the morning, there was no way he’d be able to sleep now.
It was a few hours later that Ethan heard Elizabeth’s cries come through the house. The little girl certainly had a good set of lungs. A moment later she was quiet and he knew CJ would be feeding her.
It brought back visions of CJ holding the baby tenderly in her arms, her manner natural and relaxed as Elizabeth fed greedily at first and then slowed down to a more sedate pace as her little tummy was filled. It was a sight that had touched him very deeply inside, in a secret place of longing he hadn’t known existed.
The fact that he was in love with Elizabeth was of little doubt. ‘And what about her mother?’ he whispered into the dark.
* * *
The next day, CJ headed to the clinic to pick up her medical bag and the list of patients from Tania. Ethan came out to the waiting room while she was there.
‘What are you doing here?’ He looked around her. ‘Where’s Elizabeth?’
‘At home with Molly. She’s going to look after Lizzie while I do a few house calls.’ CJ smiled politely at Ethan, picked up the medical bag and headed out the door, leaving him to watch her walk away. This has to be done, she kept reminding herself. She couldn’t rely on him, not for anything. Although they’d talked, no firm decisions had been made and CJ needed to move forward, albeit slowly.
As she drove herself around the countryside, her anxiety at whether she was making the right choices started to wane. The scenery really was beautiful out here and after she’d seen three of her patients, she headed to Margaret’s house to see how she was progressing.
CJ climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell. No answer. ‘Margaret?’ she called. ‘It’s CJ.’ She rang the doorbell a few more times then headed around the large house to the back gate. Margaret’s car was there but Doug’s wasn’t. At the back gate CJ was met by a large, barking dog but when she stepped through, the dog sniffing her and clearly recognising her, it started running off, almost stopping and waiting for her to follow. CJ’s senses started tingling as apprehension washed over her. She headed around to the large glass back door, which, when she tried to slide the door open, she was pleased to find unlocked. The dog bounded inside and into the front lounge room. As CJ followed, she saw Margaret lying on the floor. Putting her
bag down, she rushed to Margaret’s side and pulled her phone from her pocket at the same time.
‘Ambulance,’ she stated as soon as the call was answered. She checked Margaret’s pulse. It was there. ‘Margaret! Margaret!’ she called, but received no answer. CJ finished speaking to the ambulance service then called the clinic, alerting Ethan to the situation.
‘I’ll notify the hospital. How much has she had to drink?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘We’ll need to do a blood alcohol test so we know what we’re dealing with.’
‘Can you organise the police?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll call you from the ambulance,’ she said. ‘Can you have Tania notify Doug, please?’
‘What about Margaret’s parents?’ Ethan asked.
‘Let’s just find Doug first.’ When CJ ended the call, she continued to monitor Margaret’s situation, her heart filled with concern not only for the woman but for the unborn child. As CJ did an assessment on Margaret’s condition, constantly calling to the woman, trying to rouse her, she realised Margaret’s jeans were wet...very wet. Her waters had broken.
By the time the ambulance arrived, CJ had managed to rouse Margaret once or twice, as well as find far too many empty wine bottles nearby. When the ambulance pulled up at the hospital, Ethan opened the back doors.
‘Doug’s on his way in,’ he confirmed, as they wheeled Margaret through to the treatment room and transferred her to the hospital bed. Ethan was giving orders left and right.
‘I want a blood test taken. Test for blood alcohol level and liver damage. Urine test as well to check for protein. How’s her BP?’ Bonnie and several of the nurses were carrying out the requests. Ethan strapped a foetal heart monitor to Margaret’s abdomen in order to monitor the baby more closely.
Bonnie finished taking Margaret’s blood pressure. ‘Two hundred over one-ten.’
‘Pregnancy-induced hypertension?’ CJ checked and Ethan nodded. Margaret’s blood pressure was high because she was in labour. She turned to Bonnie. ‘Call Charlie and have him come in to assess her. I don’t know if he can give her an epidural until we know her blood alcohol level so get a rush on that. Ethan, status on the baby?’
‘Heart rate is still low but holding steady for the moment.’
‘Good.’
The police arrived soon after and took statements from CJ, as well as doing their own blood alcohol test.
‘Has she had any contractions?’ Ethan asked.
‘Not that I know of,’ CJ answered.
‘The alcohol might be acting as an anaesthetic so she may not be feeling them,’ Ethan added. ‘We’re going to need to monitor that closely as well.’
CJ nodded and walked to the nurses’ station, unable to believe how bad things had gone for Margaret. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed, wondering if there couldn’t have been more done for Margaret and the baby, but apart from forcing her to be hospitalised CJ wasn’t sure Margaret had wanted their help.
‘Are you OK?’ Ethan’s soft voice washed over her and she shook her head.
‘GPs need to be better informed,’ she said softly. ‘We need to know what to look for, we need more seminars on these sorts of things—especially for those of us in rural or country areas. We’re the first point of contact and we’re the ones who usually look after the patients on a day-to-day basis.’ She opened her eyes and turned to face him. ‘We need to be better informed.’
Ethan listened to what she had to say. She was right. There was a lot of information in hospitals and city centres but they needed to broaden their horizons. ‘You’ve raised a good point, CJ.’ He’d been looking for a new research project and although it wasn’t strictly his speciality, he knew several colleagues who could help him out. ‘I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, don’t go beating yourself up over Margaret.’
‘Easier said than done. I’ve known her for years and although we’ve never been close friends, she was still a patient of mine and I’ll always feel like I failed her.’
Ethan wanted to go to her, to stop her pain, to stop her hurting, but he knew he couldn’t. To touch CJ, even in a gesture of comfort, wouldn’t get them anywhere. He’d hold her and he’d want to keep her there. He’d want to kiss her, to let her know that he was there and that he really did care.
‘I feel your frustration.’
She nodded as she remembered that this couldn’t be at all easy for him either, given what had happened with his wife. ‘I know you do.’ Her smile encompassed him and immediately his heart, which had started to feel tight and constricted again, began to relax. What was it about her that enabled him to let go of his stress so easily?
‘How’s Elizabeth?’
‘When I last checked with Molly, she was sleeping soundly.’
‘Good.’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘I’m going to go check on Margaret again. I think we need to get her transferred to the labour room.’
‘OK. I’ll wait here for Doug and bring him through. He shouldn’t be too much longer.’ Ethan nodded at her words, then headed off to oversee Margaret’s transfer.
* * *
Three hours later, Margaret’s blood alcohol level was reasonable enough for Charlie to attempt an epidural. She had started to feel the contractions, which was a good sign, but Ethan wasn’t happy with the baby’s present situation.
‘Deceleration on the CTG. The baby’s going into distress.’ They shared a look and with a nod CJ turned to Charlie.
‘Give me an epidural block, stat.’
The anaesthetist nodded and set to work.
‘Bonnie,’ CJ said, ‘prep her for an emergency C-section and get the theatre ready.’
‘What? What’s going on?’ Doug asked.
‘The baby’s not coping,’ CJ explained.
‘Not coping with what?’
‘With everything. First of all, Margaret’s blood alcohol level when she came in was point one five. That’s three times the state limit for driving.’
‘But she’s been drinking wine all her life. She can handle it.’
‘She might be able to but the baby can’t. Alcohol in the mother’s blood crosses over to the baby through the placenta so the baby has the same blood alcohol level as Margaret. We’ve been over this several times with you, Doug!’ CJ was feeling incredibly frustrated.
‘What...what needs to happen now?’
‘The baby is in distress, Doug. We need to get the baby out as soon as possible and Margaret’s blood pressure keeps climbing. Both are in danger of losing their lives if we don’t act immediately.’
He paled at her words. While she’d been talking, they’d been getting Margaret ready to move to the theatre. Once everything was ready, they wheeled her bed down, the machines and monitors she was hooked up to coming along beside the bed.
Soon Margaret was settled on the operating table with a screen erected around her shoulders to shield her from the operation. Ethan talked over the procedure with CJ while they scrubbed.
‘Are you happy to take the lead?’ she asked him.
‘It’s been a while since I’ve done a C-section but I did read up on it a few weeks ago to refresh my memory, just in case this eventuality presented itself.’
She nodded. ‘And I’ve been reading up on what to do with the baby, just in case.’
‘So have I.’
‘Good. Then between the two of us we should be fine.’
Once Charlie had given Margaret the block, CJ and Ethan stepped up to the table. It wasn’t long after making the incision that they were able to get the baby out.
‘Congratulations,’ CJ said, holding the baby up so Margaret and Doug could see.
‘A boy!’ Doug whooped. Margaret merely closed her eyes as though in pain. ‘We’re going to call him Joshua. Joshua Douglas,’ Doug con
tinued, a bright smile beaming across his face.
‘That’s a lovely name,’ CJ replied.
Ethan was standing beside her, waiting with a warmed, sterile nappy in which to wrap the premature baby. CJ placed the little boy into Ethan’s waiting hands. ‘Forceps,’ she said, and clamped the cord off with two sets of forceps, cutting the cord in between.
Ethan took the baby to the neonate section trolley, Bonnie working beside him. CJ delivered the placenta before starting to suture. ‘How’s it going?’ she asked.
Ethan was rubbing the baby with one hand, stimulating blood flow. ‘Heart rate is low, breathing isn’t too good. Bonnie, suction.’
Bonnie did as he asked while he checked the baby’s reflexes and colour. ‘Still quite blue. Come on, little man, come on,’ he urged. He shook his head. ‘We’ll need to intubate. Facial features are indicative of FAS. Flat mid-face, low nasal bridge, indistinct philtrum and thin upper lip.’
‘One minute,’ Bonnie said.
‘Apgar score is five,’ Ethan remarked.
‘What...what’s going on?’ Doug asked.
‘The baby’s not responding too well,’ CJ said quietly. ‘How are you doing, Margaret?’
There was no reply. CJ looked over the screen at her patient and saw tears running down the woman’s cheeks.
‘Blood pressure has stabilised,’ Charlie reported, and CJ nodded.
‘Colour is mildly improving,’ Ethan called. ‘Still clinical evidence of neurological dysfunction.’
‘What does that mean?’ Doug asked, looking worried.
‘His reflexes aren’t responding well,’ CJ interpreted as he sutured Margaret’s wound closed. Everyone was waiting.
‘Five minutes,’ Bonnie said.
‘Apgar score is four,’ CJ reported.
‘What is this Ap thing?’ Doug asked frantically.
‘It’s a score we use to assess the state of well-being in newborn babies.’ CJ said.
‘What’s it out of?’
‘Ten.’
‘So...so four isn’t good?’
