‘I only fainted! Serve them right, the nosey ...’ Ella subsided. Her mouth worked. ‘Look, I’m feeling sick and I’m fed up with it. I didn’t ask to come in. But now I’m here, how about the operation? I just want rid.’
‘Let’s have a look at you first.’
‘I’ve just been messed about by that nurse! Isn’t that enough?’
‘We check and double-check everyone. Ella, this is something we have to get right.’
‘Well, get on with it then.’
Faith knew there was no real anger in Ella; the girl was afraid. Beth Kitson, the senior midwife and duty staff nurse, had gently extracted her story. Ella was young and she was pregnant. She had no partner, the father of her child had disappeared without a forwarding address the minute she had told him she was pregnant. She used to live in Manchester but a year ago had had an argument with her mother, flounced out of the house and left, swearing never to go back. She had come here to the Eden valley, had found a live-in job at a hotel. And got pregnant. Now she was alone and she was scared. Apart from anything else, she would have nowhere to live if she couldn’t work.
A quick examination, Faith’s murmuring voice explaining what she was doing, the physical fact that someone was caring for her seemed to soothe Ella a little. Faith pulled up a chair to the bedside. ‘You already know this, Ella. You’re underweight, slightly malnourished and about sixteen weeks pregnant. But your baby is doing fine.’
‘Not my baby, I don’t want it. I’ve told everyone, I want rid of it!’
‘There’s plenty of time yet. We can perform terminations up to twenty-four weeks, if it is really necessary. Usually it happens at about twenty weeks. So there’s time for you to think.’
‘What’s to think about?’
This was the difficult question. How to best help her young patient? Faith wondered if she could find the right words. Ella had to make up her own mind, she could insist on a termination. But it was not an option that any of the medical team here would be happy with. Faith thought of her own family. Perhaps family care was the key.
‘Have you any brothers or sisters, Ella?’
The girl frowned. ‘What’s that to do with anything?’
‘I’m just curious.’
‘I’ve got one of each. My sister Mary is seventeen and going to train to be a hairdresser. And my brother Pete is a mechanic.’
‘Do you get on with them?’
‘We got on all right but they don’t know where I am now and I don’t want them to!’
‘But you miss them?’ Faith’s voice was quiet.
It took Ella a while to reply. ‘I suppose so. A bit.’
‘It’s good to have family. People who will support you when you’re in trouble.’
‘I know what you’re trying to do, what you’re trying to say! You want me to get in touch with them, tell them what a mess I’ve made of my life. Well, I won’t!’
‘We can’t make you do anything. Ella, what do you think your mother would say if she knew that you were pregnant? Pregnant and potentially homeless?’
‘She’d go mental! That’s why she’s not to know.’
‘But after she got over the shock? She might even like being a grandmother. When you were young, was she a good mother to you?’
‘Yes,’ Ella said after the longest of pauses. ‘She was good while we were all young. We were all happy then. Till my dad wandered off.’
‘Right.’ Faith stood. ‘I’ve got to move along now, Ella, but if you ever want to talk to me – just ask. I want you to stay in another night for observation. Is it OK if I ask one of our counsellors to come along and speak to you?’
‘Will she try to talk me out of getting rid of the baby?’
‘No one’s going to talk you out of anything. She’ll tell you your options. What Social Services can do. What it’s like caring for a baby on your own. You’re not going to be abandoned, whatever you decide.’
Another long pause. Then, in an apparently casual voice, Ella asked, ‘What would you do if you were me?’
‘It’d be hard,’ said Faith, taking the girl’s hand, ‘but I’d phone my mother. Just to hear what she had to say.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ said Ella.
I’m a doctor, not a counsellor, thought Faith as she walked down the corridor. But I hope I got that right. Once she had so much looked forward to being pregnant herself. Once. To deal with someone who was considering throwing that away was hard.
Time for a snatched roll and coffee at her desk while she caught up with the never-ending paperwork. She was just thinking she might be making some headway with it when there was a knock at her door. She glanced up as the door opened and there was Chris! And looking even better than he had yesterday. All the problems she had pushed to one side when he’d left her garden rushed back to engulf her without warning.
‘Is this a bad time? Are you busy?’ he asked.
‘Very,’ she said, struggling to keep her voice professional. ‘I’m always busy. But come in and sit down.’
He came and sat opposite her. He had no right to be there looking so wholly gorgeous! In fact, he shouldn’t be here at all. He wasn’t starting until next week. Faith needed time to organise her feelings. She resented this sense of being harried.
‘How is the family crisis?’ he asked. ‘Hopefully not too bad if you’re working?’
‘No, not too bad after all.’ Up until this moment, Faith had been feeling a bit foolish about the way she had overreacted last night. Now she wasn’t so sure. ‘My sister Hope had got herself into a state over her latest boyfriend,’ she said. ‘They’re always The One – until they aren’t. This time it was a particularly messy break-up. Charity and I were needed to administer chocolate and hugs.’
‘Faith, Hope and ... Charity?’
She gave him a level look. ‘Don’t say anything.’
Amusement danced in his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’
‘Very wise. We’ve heard them all before. We’ve been known to score people on what they say.’
‘Ouch. I trust all is well now.’
‘For the moment.’ Hope was naturally bouncy, unlike Faith. She’d got over this sort of thing before, often. All it had taken was for the three of them to enjoy a giant meal of spaghetti bolognese and a bottle of wine and she was saying she really was giving up men for good this time and devoting herself to her sisters. Faith had gone to sleep in her old bedroom wondering where she’d heard that before.
‘Good.’ Then Chris’s face fell. ‘Boyfriend trouble – I suppose I’ve got all that to come with Molly.’
‘Almost certainly. But not for a long time yet.’ Yes, she thought, she had been foolish. This insane instant attraction to Chris had to be dealt with sensibly, the way she approached the rest of her life. Last night she’d been unsettled enough by the encounter with him that Hope’s tearful call had been a heaven-sent opportunity to head back to the family home for the night.
‘All the same, I’m envious,’ said Chris, bringing her back to the present.
‘Envious?’ said Faith. ‘Of what?’
He shrugged noncommittally. ‘Of the fact that you have two sisters to share troubles and hugs with. I’m an only child – and a late only child at that. Perhaps if I’d had someone to turn to when things started going wrong for Lorraine, I’d have been better able to support her.’
‘You’ve got friends, surely.’ Faith felt a little awkward now.
He gave his lovely smile. ‘Lots. But blokes aren’t always very good at group hugs and chocolate and deeply meaningful insights.’
‘You’re lucky,’ muttered Faith. Close families could be a mixed blessing. She’d broken the news last night that she’d applied for the post at Hadrian’s Wall and her sisters had been suitably encouraging and told her to give it her best shot. But then suddenly this morning Charity had picked up her off-hand comment about having new neighbours at the bottom of the garden and had homed in on it.
‘L
ucky? What do you mean?’ asked Chris, sounding amused.
Faith shook her head. ‘Nothing.’ And it was nothing. Even if her sisters had wormed every last detail out of her about Chris and Molly and had looked at each other in that way they had and finally asked what would happen if she got the new job?
‘Then I’ll let the cottage and he’ll have a different neighbour,’ Faith had replied.
Charity had shaken her head. ‘You fancy him rotten, which hasn’t happened since you lost Mike. You don’t fall in and out of love at the drop of a hat, Faith. If you like this chap, don’t blow it.’
Faith had got up hurriedly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. He’s going to be my boss. That’s the only reason I mentioned him. Because it could be tricky living so close. And he’s got the job that should have been mine and that riles me!’ And she’d left for work. For heaven’s sake, she’d brought them up, advised them through all the angst of adolescence. They weren’t supposed to turn the tables and start interfering with her life.
But now Chris was here in her room, looking tremendously smart in a dark linen suit and bright blue shirt and giving the lie to her “don’t be ridiculous” statement to her sisters.
Well, she was in scrubs. They didn’t do much for her, they weren’t designed to flatter. But they were a uniform, a sign that she was a worker and that’s how people – including him – should view her. She liked wearing scrubs.
‘Molly wanted to see where I was going to be working,’ Chris told her. ‘And where you were working. I wanted to call in any case, I need to make a courtesy visit to Mr Myers.’
‘He’s away,’ said Faith. She knew she sounded abrupt but she would rather have had some warning of his coming. ‘Using up the last of his leave.’
Chris looked blank. ‘Oh. I hoped he would take me round, introduce me to a few people. Let me get the feel of the place before I start properly. Who’s covering for him?’
Faith raised her eyebrows. ‘That would be me. I can give you an hour. Where is Molly?’
Chris grinned. She wished he wouldn’t, it made him far too attractive. ‘We just happened to walk past the playroom,’ he said. ‘Strangely enough she wanted to go in and play. She was quite happy for me to leave her there for a while.’
‘Handy,’ said Faith dryly. ‘Especially as she’ll probably spend quite some time there this summer while you are working.’
‘It’s certainly a relief,’ admitted Chris. ‘And it’s partly what attracted me to the hospital. But I wouldn’t have left her if I hadn’t been happy. However, it looked secure and well staffed and the lady in charge – Abbey, I think – seemed very competent. Molly took to her at once, thank goodness. It doesn’t always happen.’
‘Abbey is lovely,’ said Faith. ‘She’s a tie with the village, as it happens. She’s Jack Kirk’s wife. I know her quite well.’
How ironic. Faith didn’t tell Chris that it had been she who had proposed the playroom, had pushed for funding to be found for it, had suggested Abbey Kirk as the nurse in charge. It was more than a playroom. It was also a nursery and a crèche with twenty-four hour coverage. Staff found it a huge help to have somewhere they could leave their children and know they were safe. Thinking of the good she had done the hospital, she felt upset again. Chris’s job should have been hers!
There was silence for a moment as he looked at her and she felt warmth creeping up her body. Her heart was beating faster than usual, her breathing faster and more shallow. What was wrong with her? These were the classic signs of ... never mind what they were the classic signs of.
She seemed to have completely run out of small talk. All she was aware of was that he was there and he was looking at her. She stood, knocked over papers on her desk and bent down in confusion to pick them up. Then she realised that her unflattering scrubs fell forward as she did so – to hug her figure and show the outline of her underwear. Hastily she straightened herself, but noticed his eyes were on her bare arms and neck.
He cleared his throat. ‘I suppose you think I should have phoned ahead,’ he said, sounding less polished than earlier.
‘It might have been more convenient,’ muttered Faith, ‘was there anything special you wanted?’
‘Several things. But first, this might seem a bit ridiculous but might I bring Molly here for five minutes? It’s just that she’ll feel happier knowing where you are. Then I can take her straight back to the playroom and we can have a brief chat.’
‘If she wants to, of course.’ Faith thought it an odd request, but she’d rather like to see the little girl again. Chris nodded and left the room.
His being away gave her time to get her reeling thoughts in order. She was not a callow girl, shaken by the presence of a handsome man, she was a respected senior registrar. She did not faint over the best looking man she had come across in years. No? a little voice asked. ‘No’, she muttered to herself.
He returned with Molly, sat opposite her with his daughter on his knee. That smile was devastating! It made her want to do anything for him, just so he would smile at her. Then she wondered. Did he smile like that at everyone? Was it just a carefully practised tactic? It seemed genuine, but how could she tell?
‘Hello, Molly,’ Faith said. ‘It’s nice to see you again. How was your first night in your new house?’
Molly considered a moment. ‘The birds waked me up,’ she said, ‘so I had to go and get in bed with Daddy.’
‘And then you woke Daddy?’
Molly giggled. ‘He didn’t mind.’ She looked round the room. ‘Are those story books?’
‘No, sorry. I need them to help me with my job. Do you like reading?’
‘Daddy reads to me at bedtime. I can read some of the words, but I like pictures best. If you come to my house, I can show you.’
‘That would be very nice.’ But Faith wondered about going to Chris’s house. Did she want to? Did she want Chris to drop in at her house like other neighbours did? Chris wasn’t like other neighbours.
Chris seemed to be having similar thoughts. He picked up his daughter. ‘Come on, sweetheart. You’ve seen Faith’s room, now it’s time to get back to the playgroup so I can have a proper talk to her about the work we’ll be doing. Wave goodbye.’
‘Bye, Faith.’ Molly said, waving. ‘See you soon.’
Faith only managed to type up a couple of sentences before Chris was back.
‘That you for letting me bring Molly,’ he said. ‘Now she can fix you in her mind, she knows where you are. And that is a comfort to her.’
‘I’m happy to help – she’s a lovely little girl. What did you want to talk about?’ Faith kept her voice professional. She hoped it was about work, she could hold her own there.
To her surprise a shadow crossed Chris’s face. ‘I should be discussing how we are going to work together. Obs & Gynie is my job and I take the smooth running of my department seriously. But it’s Molly I want to ask you about first.’
Oh no. This was going to be difficult. Faith liked the little girl and felt sorry for the way her young life had been messed with. But she did not want to be drawn into too close an intimacy with Molly’s father. Sinfully attractive or not, he still had her job. And it had given her a painful jolt when he’d said the words my department. She looked at him. Although she was trying to remain calm, she suspected he somehow knew what she was feeling. Why wouldn’t her heart stop beating so fast? Much more of this and she’d have to take a pill to calm down. Then she realised this was silly.
Chris looked away, almost as if he was embarrassed. He was embarrassed, she realised. He didn’t like to admit that he needed help with his own daughter. Faith’s heart melted – but only for the little girl! She resolved to find out what he wanted.
But he was glancing round her room, putting off the moment. She knew it was like her, a reflection of her personality. She kept it absolutely neat and tidy, wanted as little fuss as possible. She could put her hand on any record or reference within seconds. She was not like other pe
ople who filled their room and workstation with pictures, post cards, personal memorabilia. The room was almost aseptic – which was what she wanted.
There were just two photographs. One was of herself and her sisters. The other was of her parents. Chris picked them up.
‘I can see the resemblance,’ he said. ‘You’re a handsome family.’
Handsome? Was that some kind of compliment? She supposed so. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘And these are your parents?’ A picture of Mum and Dad in an African clearing, surrounded by a crowd of grinning children.
‘Yes. That was taken in Kenya, three years ago. It’s one of their more presentable photos. At the moment they’re in Crete, running a clinic in the hills. They spend a lot of their time abroad, helping wherever it’s needed. They always have.’
‘And left their children at home? Was that why you brought your sisters up?’
Faith flushed. This man was too bright. Had he detected a faint touch of resentment in her voice? Quickly she said, ‘They are committed to what they do. We weren’t abandoned. We had Dad’s cousin living with us, but because she was much more interested in her thesis than the real world, I took over. It worked OK.’
‘I still envy you.’
It wasn’t just a courteous statement, he meant what he had just said. He did envy her closeness to her family. I’m an only child. Faith met his eyes, aware of a sudden intimacy. They had both revealed something of their inner selves. For a moment it brought them dangerously close.
It was Chris who recaptured the conversation. ‘Anyway, back to my problem. Molly is starting at Little Allaby school in September, and I’m hoping she’ll be happy in the playroom here at the hospital until then. But there are bound to be times when my working hours don’t coincide with her “home” time. Do you know someone in the village who provides reliable childcare? Someone you would personally vouch for? I’ve let Molly down enough, one way and another. I can’t have just anyone looking after her.’
‘A live-in nanny?’ Faith suggested.
‘I thought of that, it’s the obvious thing. But it’s not what I want in my home. Molly is my child. She comes first with me and I want to come first with her. I don’t want her to have a sort of surrogate mother.’
The Lakeland Doctor's Decision Page 3
