Her Baby Out of the Blue/A Doctor, A Nurse: A Christmas Baby

by Alison Roberts/Amy Andrews

  His gaze was locked with hers. For one extraordinary moment Jane thought he meant her.

  He wanted to stay here because of her. Not because she was Sophie’s genetic mother but because of that unspoken communication between them last night. The physical tingle she was experiencing through feeding Sophie intensified to become a kind of shock wave that made her almost shiver. An electric current that was far from unpleasant.

  And then Dylan’s gaze dropped and the sensation pooled to become a weight just under her ribs.

  ‘Sophie,’ she whispered.

  ‘Aye.’ Dylan was intent on the baby again. ‘She’s stopped drinking, I think. If you give her me, you could drink your coffee before it’s stone-cold.’

  Jane put the bottle on the table and Dylan stood up. She started to lift the baby to hand her over but Dylan wasn’t ready. He was staring past Jane to the table behind her. Swivelling her head, Jane saw a large man who seemed to be having difficulty getting to his feet.

  He was pushing the wrought-iron table away to give himself room to move. The table tipped and the man was on his feet but he was hunched forward, with one hand on his throat.

  The universal sign for choking.

  His face was rapidly turning purple. Jane heard his female companion gasp in horror but her attention had flicked back to Dylan.

  To the change in his expression as he focused on the unfolding emergency. Now he was moving swiftly.

  A life was in danger and Dylan McKenzie wasn’t hesitating.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE choking victim wasn’t as tall as Dylan but he was a good deal heavier and on the point of collapse.

  Dylan’s arms were keeping him on his feet, wrapped around him from behind, his hands joined to form a ball that he was using to try and produce an artificial cough. Pressing in and up just under the man’s ribs.

  Again and again he demonstrated an excellent Heimlich manoeuvre. Jane sat, frozen, holding Sophie. So grateful that Dylan was here because she wouldn’t have had anything like the physical strength needed to do what he was doing.

  The man was limp in his arms now, however, and Dylan let him gently down to the paved courtyard, kicking a chair out of the way. He opened the man’s mouth and swept a finger inside but clearly couldn’t find any part of what was obstructing the airway. Kneeling beside the victim, he positioned his hands on the centre of his chest and gave several compressions, the same way he would have if the man had been in cardiac arrest. Then he grasped a shoulder and hip, pulling the man onto his side, supported against his own body, and gave him what looked like hefty blows with a flat hand on the centre of his back.

  Jane held her breath as he rolled him back, checked his mouth and then started the chest compressions again.

  ‘Call an ambulance,’ someone was yelling behind her.

  ‘Shane!’ The woman who had been sitting at the same table as the man was sobbing. ‘Oh, my God! Shane!’

  ‘I saw Dr Tremaine,’ someone else shouted. ‘She was in the supermarket about ten minutes ago. I’ll go and see if she’s still there.’

  ‘Yeah…’ A man close to Jane was staring at Dylan. ‘Does this guy know what he’s doing?’

  ‘He’s a nurse,’ Jane snapped. ‘And I’m a doctor and I can tell you he knows exactly what he’s doing.’

  Dylan seemed oblivious to the shouting and chaos around him. He was thumping the man’s back again, and suddenly there was a convulsive movement. The man gagged, struggled and then coughed up what looked like a large piece of bacon rind.

  It had been well under two minutes since Dylan had spotted the emergency. Within another minute the man’s colour had returned, he had regained consciousness and struggled to sit up.

  ‘Keep him lying down,’ the man who had queried Dylan’s ability advised. ‘I’ve done first aid and I know you don’t let them move until the ambulance gets here.’

  ‘He needs to breathe,’ Dylan said calmly. ‘It’s much easier to do that if you’re sitting up.’

  It certainly seemed to help. Supported by Dylan and the man’s still white-faced companion, he was dragging in ragged breaths, one hand pressed against his chest.

  ‘You have pain?’ Dylan queried.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Do you have any history of heart problems?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’ve been getting pain, though, babe,’ the woman said. ‘When you went for that run the other day, remember? And when you were mowing the lawn.’

  ‘Was the pain there before you choked?’ Dylan asked.

  ‘Yeah…I guess. It was…Real hard to swallow.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say something?’ the woman cried. ‘Oh, Shane!’

  ‘I’m OK, Rae. Don’t…fuss. I…just need a minute.’

  He didn’t look OK, Jane thought. His face had taken on a greyish tinge and he was sweating profusely. She would have said something but Dylan’s assessment was as good as any she could be doing.

  ‘How does it feel now?’ Dylan had his hand on the man’s wrist, feeling for a pulse.

  ‘Like…it’s hard to breathe…It’s sore. Heavy.’

  ‘Just in your chest?’

  ‘No…in my throat…’

  ‘Oh, God!’ Rae said. ‘Has he still got something stuck in there?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Dylan responded. ‘Anywhere else, Shane?’

  ‘My arm.’

  ‘The left one?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘How bad is the pain? On a scale of zero to ten, with ten being the worst you can imagine.’

  ‘It’s getting up there. I’d say…ten.’

  The group of horrified onlookers parted to allow a dark-haired woman through.

  ‘Hi, there. I’m Jennifer Tremaine. One of the local doctors.’

  ‘Dylan McKenzie. Visiting nurse. This is Shane. He’s…How old are you, Shane?’

  ‘Forty-six.’

  Dr Tremaine nodded. ‘I hear you choked? How’s your breathing feel now?’

  ‘Pretty good.’

  Jane caught the glance Dr Tremaine gave Dylan. One of respect. Appreciation. Admiration, in fact.

  ‘Good job,’ was all she said, with a flash of a smile, before turning back to Shane, but Jane found herself staring at the back of her head. She was a very attractive woman, probably in her early thirties. Single?

  No. Dylan said the hospital and general practice were run by a married couple. Not that it was any of her business. The relief she was aware of was undoubtedly due to the fact that Shane now had two medical professionals caring for him so she didn’t have to hand Sophie over to some stranger and get involved herself.

  She couldn’t have handled the situation any better than Dylan. If she was honest, she’d have to admit she couldn’t have done as well as he had. The rescue had needed a strength she didn’t possess to save the man’s life in the first place and now Dylan was giving a handover that let the doctor know there was more to the case than a simple choking.

  ‘Crushing, ten out of ten, central chest pain, radiating to his throat and left arm. No known cardiac history but possibly some previous angina. Pain came on before he choked.’

  A four-wheel-drive vehicle with a flashing orange light on its roof had pulled up outside the cafÉ.

  ‘This is our local ambulance,’ the doctor told Dylan. ‘I want to get Shane up to the hospital and get a twelve-lead ECG and some bloods off. We can transport him to town from there. By chopper, if we need to.’

  ‘It’s my heart, isn’t it?’ Shane asked fearfully. ‘Am I having a heart attack?’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Rae was sobbing again.

  ‘It’s a possibility,’ the doctor told him calmly. ‘And it’s a case of guilty until proven innocent in cases like this. Right now we’re going to give you some aspirin, put some sticky dots on your chest and see what’s going on, and get you up to the hospital. I can give you something for that pain as well.’

  ‘Thanks. Can Rae come with me?’

 
; ‘Of course.’ The doctor looked up. ‘Um…Dylan?’

  ‘Aye?’

  ‘I couldn’t ask you to help, could I? My husband’s at home with the kids and we’re single-crewed on the ambulance. Just with the stretcher and things until we get him to the hospital?’

  ‘Sure.’ But Dylan turned away for a moment. ‘If it’s OK with Jane.’

  ‘Of course.’ Jane nodded. ‘We’ll walk up and meet you there.’

  She watched them get Shane onto a stretcher and then into the back of the modified Jeep. She could see Dylan putting the leads of the life pack on Shane’s chest and pulling an oxygen mask from its plastic wrapping. The doctor was gathering supplies needed to start an IV line as the ambulance officer helped Rae into the front passenger seat. As he closed the back doors, Jane caught a glimpse of Dylan holding an ampoule up as he drew the contents into a syringe. Presumably morphine for Shane’s pain. He looked completely at home in the back of the ambulance. As though he’d been part of the team for a long time.

  He fitted in. Yet again Jane was left with the unsettling impression of being an outsider. Not that she’d ever had any ambition to belong to the community in what was only a weekend retreat so why did she feel as if she was missing out? That she was watching something she’d probably like to be a part of but she had no idea of how to join in.

  The perspective of looking in from the outside was strengthened when Jane arrived at the hospital about half an hour later. She’d seen the rescue helicopter fly overhead before she was halfway there, largely thanks to the length of time it had taken to figure out how to use the front pack and make sure Sophie was secure. In the end, a waitress had helped and she’d given Jane a curious look.

  ‘You were with the guy that saved that man from choking, weren’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I thought you were a family, you know? That this was your baby.’

  ‘N-no. I’m just…helping.’

  The little worm of shame at her response had refused to go away. It got bigger once Jane had set off on her journey with Sophie strapped to her chest, nestled between her breasts.

  ‘Sorry, Soph,’ she found herself whispering aloud. ‘It’s not fair, is it? Not knowing where you belong. Who you belong to.’

  It was a bit embarrassing to receive the indulgent smile of a woman, walking hand in hand with a little girl of about seven or eight, who passed close enough to notice her whispering. Looking down, Jane could only see the top of a downy head but the heaviness of her burden suggested that Sophie had gone to sleep. There was nothing to stop her continuing the conversation silently, however.

  Who will you be holding hands with when you’re old enough to walk by yourself?

  With a new mother? The woman who might be lucky enough to win Dylan’s love?

  What would they say to Sophie? How would they explain the name on the birth certificate?

  There’s a woman called Jane Walters, she imagined them explaining. She lives a long way away, in New Zealand. She gave her egg that could make a baby to her best friend.

  Jane could almost hear a child’s clear voice in her head. An older Sophie who had questions.

  Why didn’t she want a baby?

  She’s a doctor who has a very busy job. A busy, important job.

  That would make Jane no better than her own mother had been. Worse, in fact, because she wasn’t even a part of Sophie’s life.

  Or maybe Sophie would know about ‘Aunty Jane’. The woman who lived on the other side of the world and sent birthday cards and presents. Someone for whom regular photographs needed to be taken. They might even tell Sophie the truth.

  She did meet you, they might say, when you were just a wee baby.

  Why didn’t she want to keep me, then?

  The brutal answer to that would be that she didn’t want to be a mother. That her job was too important. And how would that make Sophie feel? Jane knew. God, she knew only too well.

  She wasn’t aware of the tears in her eyes until she almost missed the turning she needed to take to get to the hospital. Nearly missed her footing completely and tripped on the edge of the footpath.

  She could have fallen. On top of the tiny baby she held. Blinking back the tears, Jane stood still, trying to calm herself enough to stop her heart racing and let her take in a breath that wasn’t a horrified gasp.

  What was she doing? Trying to prove that she wasn’t fit to be anyone’s mother? Sophie had woken up with the jolt and obviously agreed. The loud cry was a miserable wail by the time Jane entered the wide, panelled hallway that led from the impressive entrance of the old hospital building.

  The howls bounced off the walls and echoed down from the high, ornate plaster ceiling. The peace and quiet was being shattered and Jane felt mortified. There could be seriously unwell patients in the rooms that opened off this hallway.

  The woman who appeared in a nurse’s uniform was smiling, however.

  ‘That must be wee Sophie I can hear,’ the woman said. ‘We’ve been expecting her. And Jane…how are you, my dear?’

  ‘Um…fine…’ The woman looked familiar enough for Jane to hazard a guess. ‘Marg?’

  ‘Goodness, how long is it since I’ve seen you?’ The older woman’s face creased. ‘Your mum’s funeral, it would have been.’ She stepped closer to peer over the back of the front pack. ‘What’s up, little one? You don’t sound too happy.’

  ‘She’s been fed recently,’ Jane said. ‘I don’t think she’s hungry.’

  ‘What about her nappy? When was she last changed?’

  ‘Ah…I’m not sure.’ Dylan would have attended to that before they’d set out for their walk, but that was hours ago now. ‘Not for a while.’

  ‘That’ll be what the problem is,’ Marg said confidently. ‘Have you got another nappy?’

  ‘Oh…no!’ Jane bit her lip. She was doing a good job of making herself look totally inadequate here. ‘I left the bag at the cafÉ.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ Marg smiled. ‘You had a fair distraction going on there from what I’ve heard. We’ve got plenty here, in any case, over in the maternity suite. Would you like me to take Sophie and sort it out?’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t ask—’

  ‘It would be a pleasure.’ Marg was already helping her with the clips. ‘We’re not busy and a baby is such a treat.’

  A very elderly lady appeared at the door of the room closest to where Jane was removing the front pack. She was gripping the handles of a walking frame with difficulty and peering very short-sightedly into the hallway. Her voice was quiet and as shaky as her hands.

  ‘I thought I could hear a baby.’

  ‘It’s a precious little girl, Enid. Would you like a peek?’

  A face that was already a mass of crinkles folded into a smile. Marg looked at Jane. ‘Is it all right if I show her off? It would bring a lot of joy to more than one of our oldies.’

  ‘That’s fine. I know you’ll take good care of her.’

  ‘We certainly will.’ Marg kissed the top of Sophie’s head. ‘We’ll get you a clean bottom before we do anything else, though, won’t we, pet?’

  Jane smiled her appreciation but her glance was drawn to another figure appearing slowly from a room further down the corridor.

  ‘That’s Tom,’ Margaret said. ‘He’ll want to know what’s going on and I have to say it’s the first time he’s made the effort to get out of his chair for a week.’

  ‘That’s good.’ But Jane was looking past Tom.

  ‘If you keep walking that way, you’ll find Dylan and Jenny. She’s just giving him a quick guided tour of the treatment rooms and so forth.’

  Jane nodded a greeting to both Enid and Tom and kept going. She passed more rooms. Comfortable rooms with French doors opening onto a shady veranda. Pictures hung on walls beside oxygen and suction outlets and flowers were arranged in old china vases. No doubt the Christmas decorations would come out within the next week or so, with tinsel and paper bells and a tree tha
t had real gifts underneath. It felt relaxed and homely and not at all like the medical facilities Jane was used to.

  The treatment areas were more familiar. Modern additions to the original building that were sleekly functional and very well equipped. She found the attractive young doctor and Dylan in animated conversation.

  ‘X-ray facilities and a theatre for minor ops,’ Dylan was saying as she got closer. ‘You’re very well set up for a ten-bed country hospital.’

  ‘It seemed a shame to let Drew’s talents go to waste.’ Jennifer Tremaine was smiling. ‘As it would be with yours. I—’ She broke off as she noticed Jane’s approach.

  ‘Hi,’ she said warmly. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr Walters.’

  ‘Please, call me Jane.’

  ‘And I’m Jennifer. I met your mother a few years back, when she first got sick.’

  ‘I remember. You managed her treatment and transfer very efficiently. I read your notes. I’m sorry I didn’t come and thank you in person.’

  ‘No problem.’ Jennifer grinned. ‘You can make up for it by persuading Dylan to come and work for us. We’re so short-staffed at the moment, it’s not funny.’

  ‘It’s a bonny wee hospital,’ Dylan put in. But he was frowning. ‘What have you done with Sophie?’

  ‘Sophie?’ Jennifer sounded surprised.

  There was a tiny pause. A hesitation on Dylan’s part that let Jane know he expected her to answer the query.

  ‘The baby,’ Jane said, before the pause got really awkward. ‘My…’

  No. She couldn’t do it. To say it out loud was to claim the relationship. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t live up to what that relationship entailed and the damage of not doing it well enough was too huge. She couldn’t let Sophie grow up knowing that kind of hurt.

  ‘Dylan’s niece,’ she amended smoothly.

  ‘You have a niece that’s travelling with you?’ Jennifer’s eyes widened. ‘How old is she?’

  ‘Six weeks.’

  ‘Oh! And her parents? Are they visiting as well?’