The Midwife's Longed-For Baby

by Caroline Anderson

  She found a slot in the staff car park, got out and headed for the maternity unit on autopilot, her mind whirling.

  Would she see him today? Did she want to? Did he want to see her? Their last exchange had hardly been amicable. Well, her side of it anyway. He’d hardly said a word but then he hadn’t needed to, the evidence had spoken for itself.

  She reached the kerb and glanced up, checking that the road was clear, and saw a car approaching.

  Nick’s car.

  She recognised it instantly, and her heart started to thud as he drew closer, their eyes meeting as he slowed down.

  To speak to her?

  For a moment she thought he was going to stop, and then he raised his hand in acknowledgement and drove on, and she hauled in a breath and crossed the road on legs like jelly.

  Her heart was tumbling in her chest, her lips dry, and she was breathing so fast she could have been running. Ridiculous. He was just a doctor, here to do his job, and she was just a midwife doing hers. The fact that they were still married was neither here nor there. They could do this.

  She just had to work out how.

  * * *

  Nick parked the car and sat there for a moment, waiting for his heart to slow down.

  He’d known it would be odd to see her again, but he hadn’t expected the thunderbolt that had struck him when he’d met her eyes. It was like being punched in the gut, and it had taken his breath away.

  Jaws clenched, he took the key out of the ignition, picked up the briefcase containing his stethoscope and the file with all the documentation for HR and got out of the car, following her towards the maternity unit.

  Why the hell had he said yes? He could have turned Ben down, walked away, gone and had the holiday he’d been promising himself. Then he wouldn’t have been here, he wouldn’t have seen her and ripped open the wound left by the abrupt end to their marriage.

  Not that it had taken much ripping. It had barely skinned over in the last year and a bit, but he was here now, the damage was done and he might as well just get on with it. And anyway, she needed the truth. They both did, and maybe then they could both move on.

  The door slid open and he strode through it, went up to the maternity reception desk and asked them to page Ben.

  * * *

  ‘Morning, all.’

  ‘Oh, Liv, I’m so glad I’ve caught you. Can you do us a huge favour? Would you mind covering an antenatal clinic this morning? Jan’s called in sick and you’re the only person who’s not already involved in a delivery.’

  She felt a little shaft of relief and smiled at her line manager. ‘No, that’s fine, I’ll head straight down.’ And she’d be nicely tucked out of the way so she wouldn’t run the risk of bumping into Nick.

  Which was stupid, really, because it was going to happen sometime, but she’d had less than forty-eight hours to get used to the idea of him coming back and judging by her reaction to him in the car park, it had been nothing like long enough.

  She’d spend the morning giving herself a thorough talking-to, and then by the time he actually started work she’d have herself firmly under control.

  Good plan.

  Except it wasn’t.

  The clinic receptionist welcomed her with a smile of relief and then comprehensively trashed her peace of mind.

  ‘Thank heavens it’s you, Liv, we need someone who knows the ropes. There’s a bit of a delay because the locum who’s covering for Mr Bailey is still in HR, but he’ll be down soon, apparently, so if you could make a start that would be amazing.’

  Simon’s clinic? That meant she’d be working with Nick all morning, before she had a chance to shore up the walls and get all her defences in place. Great. Fabulous.

  Her heart had started to pound, and she hauled in a breath, picked up the first set of notes with shaking hands and pasted on a smile.

  ‘No problem. I can do that,’ she said, as much to herself as the receptionist. She walked out to the waiting area, glanced at the file and scanned the room.

  ‘Judy Richards?’

  * * *

  ‘Nick! Welcome back!’

  He recognised Jane, the motherly but ruthlessly efficient woman who acted as Ben’s secretary as well as Simon’s, and greeted her warmly.

  ‘Hello, Jane, it’s good to see you again. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. I’ve been expecting you. HR said you’d be up here shortly. They said you were very well organised, ironically.’

  He laughed. ‘It just so happens I had a file ready with the relevant paperwork in it because I knew I’d need it soon, but don’t let that lull you into a false sense of security. I hate admin.’

  She smiled knowingly. ‘I haven’t forgotten that. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you do everything you have to do.’

  ‘Can you read my mind?’ he asked, and she just laughed.

  ‘If necessary. That’s what I’m here for.’

  ‘Good. I don’t suppose you’ve got Simon’s schedule handy, have you? I really need to hit the ground running. Ben said something about a clinic and I’ve got a list this afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve printed it all out for you here. First on your list is the antenatal clinic, as you know. It’s still in the same place and they’re expecting you. And your elective list starts at two, so you should just about have time after the clinic to meet your patients before you start in Theatre. The notes are on the ward.’

  ‘Jane, you’re a legend.’ He hung his stethoscope round his neck, left his briefcase in her care and went.

  At least in the clinic he was less likely to run into Liv, because she’d be safely tucked away on the midwife-led unit. And even though in a way he’d wanted to see her, their brief encounter this morning had shaken him more than he’d expected and he could do without any more surprises.

  Yes, a nice, busy clinic was exactly what he needed. Just until he got his head round the idea of working in the same building as her...

  * * *

  ‘Liv...’

  She was standing in the empty corridor with an armful of notes when she heard him say her name, and she turned slowly and met his eyes.

  Anguish, love, regret—and then nothing, as he got control of himself again and slammed the shutters down. He’d had plenty of practice at that, he’d got it down to a fine art in the last year of their marriage, but he’d been too slow this time and his reaction exactly mirrored her own.

  ‘Hello, Nick,’ she said, her voice sounding scratchy and unused. The words how are you hovered on her tongue, but she couldn’t speak because it had glued itself to the roof of her mouth so she just stared at him.

  His face was leaner, she realised, the crows’ feet more pronounced, the frown lines shallower. Because he was happier? He hadn’t looked happy, but he looked more like the old Nick, the man she’d fallen in love with, fit and well and healthy but with a touch of grey at his temples now. Stress, or just age? He was thirty-nine now, nearly forty, and he wore it well apart from that.

  Not that the silver threaded through his dark hair did anything to dim his subtle but potent sex appeal—

  Her heart was beating so fast it was deafening her, her breath was lodged in her throat, and she had to clamp her lips together to stifle a sudden little sob.

  She blinked fiercely and adjusted the folders in her arms before looking back at him, and as she met those beautiful, smoky grey eyes again her heart thudded, but his gaze held her eyes and she was powerless to look away.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you down here,’ he said after a second of silence that seemed to scream on for eternity, and his gruff voice set her free and she breathed again.

  ‘Ditto, but it’s just as well you’re here now, we’ve got a lot of work to do.’ She pretended to look at the notes in her arms. Anything t
o get away from those searching eyes when her own were bound to be too revealing. ‘I take it you managed to tick all HR’s boxes?’

  ‘Yes. I have a file I keep up to date. It comes in handy when you’re a locum.’

  That again. Why hasn’t he got a full-time job?

  He hesitated, as if there was something else he wanted to say, but after a moment he looked down at the armful of folders she was holding. ‘So, what’s that lot?’

  ‘The ladies who’ve had their BP and fundal height measured and their urine tested, so they’re all ready for you.’ Her voice was almost normal again, and she nearly laughed. If he had any idea what was going on in her chest—

  She led him into the consulting room and handed him the folders, and as he took them his hand brushed lightly against hers and the heat from his skin sent a wave of longing through her. She almost dropped the files but he had them, and he turned swiftly away and dumped them on the desk.

  ‘Anyone I should be particularly aware of?’ he asked, his voice a little taut and very businesslike, so she followed his lead. Anything to help get herself back under control before her heart gave out.

  ‘Yes, Judy Richards,’ she said briskly. ‘She has a history of early miscarriage. This is her fourth pregnancy, she’s thirty-two weeks which is the longest she’s ever gone, but her fundal height hasn’t changed since her last appointment a week ago and that wasn’t as much as it should have been, so it might be that the baby’s found a new position, or it could be that it’s stopped growing for some reason. She’s on the top of the pile.’

  He frowned thoughtfully, all business now. ‘Right. Good. Has she been tested for APS?’

  ‘Yes, after her last miscarriage. The test came back negative.’

  ‘Hmm. OK, well, she’d better have another scan before I see her, if we can do it without worrying her too much.’

  ‘It’s done. I knew you’d ask for it so I told her it was because it was a new consultant, and she didn’t question it. The results are on here,’ she said, handing him the department tablet.

  ‘Great. Thanks.’ He scrolled through and studied the results, then handed it back, frowning thoughtfully.

  ‘OK. I think I’m going to admit her. Can you call her in, please, and I’ll check her over and break the news?’

  ‘Sure.’

  And oddly it was fine, because Judy Richards and her baby needed them, they had a job to do and so they just got on with it, slipping seamlessly back into the familiar routine as if it had been yesterday. Not that she was relaxed in any way, but it was a joy watching him with Judy, and a stark reminder of how good he was at his job.

  She’d forgotten how intuitive a doctor he was, and how caring. Kind, gentle, thorough—and from his first greeting onwards, Liv could see Judy had utter faith in him.

  ‘Mrs Richards—I’m Nick Jarvis, I’ve taken over from Simon Bailey. I’ve had a look at your notes, and also the scan you had done today. It doesn’t really shed any light—which is good news in a way, I suppose, but it still leaves some unanswered questions and I don’t like that, so I think I’d like to admit you and do a few more tests, get a closer look at your baby and the placenta and retest you for APS—antiphospholipid syndrome. Has anybody discussed that with you yet?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Bailey did, but he didn’t think I’d got it.’

  ‘He may well be right, but I’m erring on the side of caution, so if that’s all right with you, I’ll ring the ward and make the arrangements for you to be admitted now, and then maybe someone could bring some things in for you later.’

  ‘I can’t go home and get them myself?’

  ‘You can, of course, but I’d like to get the tests under way as soon as possible and I’m in Theatre this afternoon, so I’d very much rather you didn’t because I’d like to look after you myself rather than hand you over to someone else in my team.’

  By the time he’d convinced Judy to come in immediately for closer monitoring, she was still calm and relatively relaxed, which considering her obstetric history was nothing short of a miracle.

  If only they were as calm and relaxed things would be fine, but they weren’t. Liv felt like a cat on hot bricks, and she wasn’t sure he was faring any better.

  They got through the morning by keeping out of each other’s way as much as possible, avoiding eye contact, restricting conversation to a minimum and all work-related, but fun it wasn’t and her nerves were in bits, so the second the clinic was finished she made her escape.

  * * *

  He closed the door as Liv went out with the last patient, leant back against the wall and closed his eyes, letting his breath out in a long, slow huff.

  Well, they’d survived, if you could call it that.

  Not that it had been easy, but they’d got through it by sticking to business and getting on with the job, and they’d done that well, working together as a smooth, well-oiled team just as they had in the old days. Except in the old days they’d enjoyed it, and he was pretty certain neither of them had enjoyed it today, and the tension between them could have been cut with a knife.

  It couldn’t go on like this, though, and he knew he had to do something to break through the icy politeness and careful distance between them or it wasn’t going to work. At all.

  He shrugged away from the wall, picked up the last set of notes and left the room, scanning the clinic for Liv, but there was no sign of her.

  ‘Seen Liv?’ he asked at Reception as he handed over the file, and was told she’d gone for lunch.

  Which meant, unless she’d changed her habits, she’d be in the café that opened onto the park.

  Good. He could do with a nice, strong coffee, with caffeine in it for a change. It might help him get through what was sure to be a deeply awkward conversation.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘MIND IF I join you?’

  She might have known he’d find her here. She should have gone to the other café, or the restaurant—or even better, gone off-site.

  Too late now. She looked pointedly at the two free tables, then up into those beautiful, unreadable eyes that were studying her knowingly. Too knowingly. She looked away.

  ‘Is this about work?’

  ‘In a way.’

  He didn’t wait for her to invite him, just put his cup on the table and sat down, his gaze meeting hers again, but this time she didn’t look away because his eyes looked guarded and a little wary still, and she realised he was—nervous? No, not nervous, that didn’t sound like Nick. Uncomfortable, maybe. That didn’t sound like him, either, not the Nick she knew and loved anyway, but maybe he’d changed. Maybe she’d changed him by cutting him so brutally out of her life, but she’d been so hurt...

  ‘Liv, I realise this is awkward, but I do think we need to clear the air if we’re going to work together,’ he said quietly, ‘unless you being in the clinic this morning was just a one-off?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, it wasn’t a one-off, but I wasn’t meant to be doing the clinic today and I didn’t realise you’d be starting work so early. I thought it would take longer with HR.’

  ‘Ah, well, that’s the file for you,’ he said with a slight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Answers all the questions in an instant. So, getting back to us, I’d assumed when Ben asked me that you’d still be in the midwife-led unit?’

  She shook her head again. ‘No, I only moved there while you were working your notice, and after you’d gone there was no point in me staying there, so I switched back to the consultant unit when there was a vacancy. I’ve been back six months.’

  He frowned. ‘I didn’t know that. I’m sorry, I would have talked to you first if I had. Obviously I knew we’d see each other anyway from time to time, but that’s not quite the same as having to work together. Are you going to be OK with that?’

 
Was she? OK with spending day after day bumping into him, working alongside him on deliveries, their hands, their bodies touching as they brushed against each other in the confines of the delivery room? OK with hearing his voice, catching endless glimpses of him around the maternity unit, hearing him laugh? He had a wonderful laugh, warm and rich and never, never unkind.

  Would she really be OK with all of that?

  She let out a soft, slightly shaky sigh. ‘Nick, it’s fine. We managed this morning and as I said to Ben, I’m sure we can be civilised.’

  ‘I’m sure we can, but that still doesn’t make it easy.’

  The despairing little laugh escaped without her permission. ‘What, you thought you could come back into my life after a year and it would be easy? Get real, Nick. We’re not married any more, in case you hadn’t noticed. Of course it won’t be easy.’

  He winced slightly—so slightly that anyone who didn’t know him as well as she did wouldn’t have spotted it, but when he spoke it was without emotion.

  ‘We are still married,’ he corrected, his voice carefully controlled, ‘but I haven’t forgotten for a single moment that we’re not together. That’s not what this is about. But we are going to have to work together, and we never had a problem in the past and I don’t want us to have a problem now.’

  ‘Did we have a problem today?’

  ‘With the work? No. With the atmosphere, definitely, and I’m not sure I can do it unless we can find some middle ground. We used to be such a brilliant team, and I want to find a way to get that back.’

  ‘Seriously?’ she asked, slightly incredulous, but he nodded.

  ‘Seriously. I realise it’s not going to be the same, but it needs to be better than it was this morning, and I just wanted to clear the air, break the ice a bit and get rid of the awkwardness, so that we’re more at ease next time.’

  In his dreams. There was no way she was going to be at ease with him. She only had to hear his voice or catch a glimpse of him and her heart started racing, but he was here and she was stuck with it, for now at least, and he had a point. They did have to be able to work together, although she still had questions about that, so she went for the first one on the pile.