Her Doctor's Christmas Proposal

by Louisa George

  Jess gave her a cuddle and squealed a little. ‘Wow, that’s just so brilliant. What a Christmas present. You look amazing—feeling okay? No nausea?’

  ‘Not yet. Apart from needing the loo a lot, I’m fine.’

  ‘Okay, yummy mummy, you nip off to the ladies’ while we set up. Now, gather round, or we’re going to run out of time. I have to get back in twenty minutes.’ Jess got them all together into a semicircle by the main doors, in front of a beautiful scented floor-to-ceiling pine Christmas tree, and flicked on the sound system. Handing out sheets of lyrics, she joined them and started to sing ‘Away In A Manger’.

  Just peachy. As she read through the words Isabel wondered about little Lucia and how she was doing in the new crib that she’d found for her in a Paris baby shop. For some reason the thought of that little scrap of life made her feel a bit heartsore. Or it could have been the excitement of Hope’s pregnancy. Or, it could have been, as Sean had suggested, that perhaps she still had that small part inside her that wanted a baby of her own. That perhaps that dream hadn’t died along with Joshua after all. Maybe she could open her heart to thinking about that, some time, in the future. She decided as she stood there surrounded by all this love that maybe she would.

  As they moved into the second chorus people stopped rushing about and started to listen, and they were smiling and joining in. Beyond the doors the sky was thick and heavy as more snow threatened. Isabel knew that by three-thirty it would be dark outside and that every child in the country would be counting down the hours until that very special jolly man paid them a visit. And so it wouldn’t be a swim, then champagne and a barbecue, it wouldn’t be sunbathing and lounging around with her family. She’d be here, with this new family of hers, having a very different time, delivering babies and making some people’s Christmas a very happy one indeed.

  And, as the saying went, a change was as good as a rest.

  She watched Hope wipe her eyes as the carol came to an end. The audience had grown quite large and people were generously donating into the buckets at their feet.

  Then, at the back of the crowd, she saw a face that sent her heart into overdrive.

  He wasn’t supposed to be here.

  His gaze caught hers and he watched her sing, a small smile on those sensual lips. The world seemed to shrink a little and she felt herself singing the words just to him, and she felt the heat in his gaze. From this distance he probably looked, to everyone else, just like any other guy. But she knew differently.

  She knew he was capable of great things, the greatest things anyone could ever do; he was capable of forgiving, of trying to let go, of believing in something that not everyone had the chance to experience in their lives; he was capable of believing in love. With her. He was offering her a chance to have what Hope had, what Jess and Bonnie had, what Isla had, and what everyone deserved: a rich, fulfilling future.

  And no, nothing had changed in those last few days, damn it, nothing had changed in those last seventeen years, she still felt gloriously attracted to him; she still craved his touch. Her heart still swelled at the sight of him. She wanted to lean into those shoulders and feel his arms around her; she wanted to lie next to him and talk about the day. She wanted to grow old by his side and somehow make up for the lost years without him. She just had to pluck up the courage to say yes. That was the problem.

  After two more songs he gave her a slow wink and walked away.

  ‘What the hell was that about?’ Bonnie whispered out of the corner of her mouth as she too watched Sean’s back disappear up the corridor. ‘What just happened between you two?’

  ‘Shut up and sing.’ Isabel smiled through gritted teeth.

  And she did. And nothing more was said as they went through another five carols and raised a couple of hundred pounds for the SCBU.

  But later, when just the two of them were walking back to the labour suite, Bonnie stopped and looked straight at Isabel. ‘I know it’s none of my business—’

  ‘No, it’s not.’ But she knew her friend had the very best intentions.

  ‘So here are the facts as I see them.’ Bonnie smiled gently as heat hit Isabel’s cheeks. ‘Every time you and Sean are in the same room there are sparks. Tensions soar so high we all feel a need to switch on the fans and get ice. Fact number two: you were heard arguing about your past, about a relationship you had. About lies you told, apparently. And he said he didn’t want to see you again. But you went to Paris together. And it was interesting.’ Another girl-code stare. ‘Fact three: the way he looked at you out there just about set the hospital alight. I was torn between decking the halls with boughs of holly and phoning the fire brigade. The man clearly wants you and yet, here you are, looking glum and worried. You want to talk? Because I can listen, very well.’

  It would help, Isabel knew, just to say the words out loud. ‘Maybe later?’

  ‘Later it’ll be Freya and Father Christmas and Jacob and chaos. Trust me, we won’t get a chance. I have time now. My office?’

  ‘You hate your office.’ Everyone knew that Bonnie never went in there unless she could help it.

  ‘I know, which means no one will find us, so we won’t be disturbed.’

  Thirty minutes and two cups of strong black coffee later Isabel felt as if she’d bled all over Bonnie’s desk. ‘So now I have to decide what to do. Take a chance on him, or walk away. I have a plane ticket to Melbourne on New Year’s Eve, so essentially I have a week to decide the rest of my life.’

  ‘When are you seeing him again?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘So, in reality, you have twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Geez, girlfriend, you are not helping.’

  Bonnie shook her head and with a formidable glint in her eye she leaned forward. Isabel could see why she was a very good match for Jacob—Bonnie would fight for what she wanted, tooth and nail. ‘Do you think that if you had a hundred more years to decide it would help? If you love the man you have to take a chance. Do you love him?’

  Well, wow, that was a question. She’d tried to put him behind her, she’d tried to erase those feelings, ignored them, subsumed them, but in the end the real question was: had she ever stopped loving him? ‘But, Bonnie, how could you dare to let go after what you went through?’

  Bonnie’s shoulders rose then fell. ‘Sometimes you’ve got to take a risk, and, believe me, I didn’t do that lightly. I had Freya to think of. But, well, once I realised I loved him and he loved me I wasn’t prepared to let that chance slip through my fingers.’ She covered Isabel’s hand with her own, and it was almost as if Isla were here talking sense to her. They’d get on well, she thought, her sister and this woman who was fast becoming like one. One day she’d get them to meet, somehow. What a party that would be. ‘Come on, Isabel, I understand what you’ve been through, but that’s all in the past. You have a lot of living to do. What have you got to lose?’

  Isabel nodded, fighting the lump in her throat. Bonnie was right, of course—what did she have to lose by loving Sean Anderson? ‘Everything. That’s the problem.’

  ‘And if he’s worth that much to you, you’ll take that risk.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘ANY ROOM AT the inn?’ Johnny, one of the paramedics, breezed into the labour suite, stomping snow from his boots while pushing a young woman on a trolley. For five o’clock in the morning, Christmas Day, the man looked remarkably chipper. The girl, not so.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, very funny. I’ve never heard that one before. Happy Christmas to you, too.’ Sean shook his head and laughed, giving an extra-special smile to the girl on the gurney. She looked so young, pale and frightened. And on her own. Who the hell wanted to be here instead of unwrapping presents? Which was where she should have been right now, with her family looking after her—she barely looked old enough to be out on her own. ‘Hello there. Who do we have here?’

  The girl gave him a grimace and curled up around her distended belly. Tears streaked her face as she sucked on po
rtable gas and air. Sean took her in—straggly hair, clothes that were scruffy, long thin bones, skin stretched tight over her cheekbones. Man, she was way too thin.

  Johnny handed over a copy of his observation chart. ‘This is Phoenix Harding. She’s eighteen years old and, we think, about thirty-two weeks pregnant. She’s had lower abdominal pain for the past week increasing over time. Lower back pain too. Using gas and air to good effect. Contractions started at around midnight, getting closer together and stronger, every two to three minutes.’

  ‘Okay, thanks, Johnny. We’ll take it from here. Hi there, Phoenix, my name’s Sean and I’m one of the doctors here. Can you manage to tell me what’s been happening?’

  She shook her head. Terrified.

  ‘Are you okay if I do some prodding and poking around? I need to have a listen to baby—that will help us work out what to do next.’

  She nodded, but hid her face in her hands.

  Sean began his assessment, had Hope attach the heart monitor across Phoenix’s belly, and heard a strong quick heartbeat. ‘That’s sounding good. Baby seems to be quite happy.’ But the girl doubled up in pain. He tried to get her to look at him. ‘Phoenix, he’s not as cooked as we’d like, so we’d prefer to keep him in a little longer. But it looks like he’s keen to meet you.’

  Phoenix shook her head. Still no words. She looked so young. So frightened. And, as he watched Hope leave the cubicle with an apologetic raise of her eyebrows, in need of a friend and a chaperone.

  ‘Have you got anyone we can call to come and be with you? Friends? Family? Baby’s dad?’

  Again she shook her head. It was going to be difficult if he had to conduct the assessment by telepathy. ‘Hey, missy, just a quick question: can you recall whether your waters broke? It’d have been like a gush of water…an unexpected trickle?’

  There was a knock on the door. Isabel stepped into the cubicle and Sean’s heart felt as if it were tumbling, mixed with a sharp sense of relief. He never could get used to seeing her without having some kind of reaction. ‘Hope’s just had to pop out—she thought you’d need a chaperone, everyone else is busy so she asked me to come in.’

  After he brought her up to speed with Phoenix’s case he added, ‘But Phoenix isn’t feeling like talking at the moment, so we’re taking things slow.’

  Isabel nodded, as if she understood exactly what he meant. Thirty-two weeks meant a risk to baby—it was too immature to be born yet. But if it was, they’d need extra care—usually a stint in the SCBU to monitor progress and for special feeding; babies that young often didn’t quite get the hang of sucking at a nipple or a teat. Never mind the dangers of immature lungs trying to suck in hospital air.

  Isabel smiled at the girl. ‘Oh, that’s okay, we can take all the time you like, Phoenix.’ She paused and stroked the girl’s back as she curled into another contraction. ‘Although we can’t do anything to help if we don’t know what’s happening. That baby is a bit young to be born yet—so we need to try to keep it in there a bit longer. Phoenix, do you mind if I examine you?’ Time was running out if they wanted to stall the labour; obviously Isabel was fully aware of this.

  The girl shook her head and turned onto her back. She looked grateful to have Isabel there at least and when Isabel had done her examination she breathed out a big breath. ‘Eight centimetres—wow, you’re doing well. And your waters must have broken some time? You don’t remember? Can you try to think?’

  ‘No.’ Finally a voice.

  ‘Never mind, honey. The main thing is, your cervix is dilating quickly, your baby’s on the way. We’ll have to give you an injection of steroids to make his lungs good and strong for when he’s born. He’s going to be a bit small as yet, so we have to give him all the help we can. Is that okay? And I’d like to work out why this is happening now… Have you had any problems or anything over the last few days? Taken any different medicines, drugs? Alcohol? Any accidents, bumps? Done anything really strenuous?’

  ‘No.’ As if grabbing onto a life raft Phoenix took hold of the hand Isabel offered to her. ‘I’ve been going to the toilet more. I thought it was just the pregnancy—I read somewhere that you pee more often. But looking back it was twice as many times for half as much wee.’

  ‘In which case we’ll need to test your urine as soon as we can. Any fever? Lower back pain?’ Isabel reached for a thermometer to continue her assessment.

  ‘Pain, yes.’ She pointed to her lumbar region. ‘And when I pee.’

  ‘It sounds as if you might have a kidney infection. We’ll set up some intravenous antibiotics to help you and to prevent baby getting an infection too.’ Isabel inhaled sharply as she helped Phoenix to sit, revealing her skeletal frame under her nightie. ‘Have you eaten recently?’

  The girl clung to Isabel’s arm. ‘No, not really. I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’

  ‘I should have been more careful. I should have looked after him instead of pretending it wasn’t happening.’ Then she began to cry thick tears. Isabel held Phoenix as her chest racked with deep sobs for a few minutes. When she’d finished the girl managed to force a few more words out. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared so I didn’t tell anyone and I haven’t been doing the right things. Have I killed him? Hurt him? Will he be okay?’

  ‘Hey…hush now. We’ll sort you out. Don’t worry.’ Sean watched for Isabel’s reaction. It must have been like a rerun of her own life. Which she steadfastly would not allow to interfere here, that much he knew.

  She pressed her lips together, took a long deep breath. ‘I understand. I do. I know you were scared and that you’re scared now. But it will be fine. It will. The main thing is that baby has been growing—clearly. Maybe you’d like a little walk around? Sometimes it’s easier if you move.’

  Make yourself useful, Sean was telling himself. Find someone to help her. ‘It’s okay. Really, we’re here to help. Are you sure you don’t want me to phone anyone?’

  The girl shook her head vehemently. ‘There isn’t anyone.’

  ‘There must be someone, surely, sweetheart?’

  She was gripping onto Isabel’s hand now as pain ripped through her. ‘No.’

  Damn. Whether there was or wasn’t anyone in her life to help her was clearly not up for discussion. ‘What are you doing in Cambridge? On your own? Working? Student?’

  Phoenix took a deep breath. ‘It was supposed to be a fresh start for me and my ex—things hadn’t been going well between us in Manchester—he got a job down here so we came. But as soon as he found out about the baby he ran a mile. Or a hundred miles. I have no idea where he is.’ She cradled her belly as another contraction rippled through her. When she got through it she asked, her voice weak with fear, ‘Have I done something bad to him? Why is he coming so early? I’m not due until March. I can’t have him now. I can’t.’

  Sitting down in the chair next to her, Isabel stroked the girl’s arm. ‘Sometimes infections can bring on an early labour. All sorts of things can—not eating properly…’

  ‘I was trying to lose weight to hide the bump when I went for job interviews.’ Looking defeated, Phoenix slumped forward. ‘It didn’t work—I never got any job, I’m starving, he’s coming now and I’ve made a mess of everything.’

  ‘Look, sweetheart, sometimes babies come early. We’ll do everything we can to make sure he’s okay. But what about you? Have you got any friends to come and help you?’

  Their patient shook her head. ‘You don’t make many friends when you don’t go out.’

  ‘What about your midwife? Who did you register with?’

  ‘I didn’t. I didn’t think. I just wanted it all to go away.’ She blinked up at them both with frightened eyes. ‘Will you stay with me? And him.’

  ‘Of course we will. Whatever you need, Phoenix.’ After giving her the injections Sean stepped forward and took the girl’s other hand as another, stronger contraction ripped through her. They were com
ing thick and fast. No woman should have to face this on her own. ‘We’ll stay with you, and Hope—the midwife—she’ll be back soon and we’ll all help you get through this. You’ll see.’

  Isabel looked across the bed and he felt the punch to his heart as she gave him a weak smile; gratitude shone from her eyes. It gave him some hope for their next conversation. Although there was that nagging sensation again, the one that said she would run as fast as she could, far away from him, all over again. And even though he knew that, the familiar warmth curled through his gut. What was it about her that held him captivated?

  He dragged his eyes away from that mass of blonde hair that he loved to run his hands through and turned to listen to Phoenix. Her voice was starting to sound panicked. ‘What if I can’t do it? What if I’m not strong enough? I’m scared.’

  ‘Don’t worry, really. You’ll manage. You’re young…’ He was going to say and fit and healthy…but she’d neglected herself a little too much. He had only to hope that the little one had got what it needed from her.

  Her body began to tense and she screwed her face up. ‘Owwww. I feel like it’s pressing down, like I need to push it out. But I don’t want to. He’s too little. It’s too soon. What if it’s…what if he…?’

  Isabel gave her a warm smile. ‘You’re fully dilated now, sweetheart. Your body will work whether you think it’s the right time or not, honey. Whatever happens we’ll deal with it. You can do this. You can do this.’

  But there was a catch in her throat that made Sean lift his head and look at her. She blinked and turned away, shaking her head. Then she turned back, in full control again. ‘It’s okay, Phoenix. You have me and Sean. We can do this together. Okay? So I need you to breathe like this.’

  Isabel began to pant and count.

  When Phoenix screamed and bore down, squeezing against Isabel, Sean took over. ‘Okay, so breathe with me, Phoenix. Breathe with me. That’s a good girl. Lift your legs a little. Well done. I can see the head. Not long to go now.