The Baby Doctor

by Fiona McArthur

  He patted her arm. ‘You don’t have to. But I will, our family will. It’s a small town with three hundred and fifty residents. Tourists are capped at another four hundred. That combined population’s only twice as many as Spinifex, except it has mountains and magical beaches. And the snorkelling there is as good as the barrier reef.’ He smiled at her. ‘And clouds. The most amazing clouds circling Mount Gower like space ships. It’s a great place to bring up a child. Kids don’t wear shoes to school. There are very few cars.’ He looked grim. ‘And I’d make sure they stayed on the speed limit. The main transport is a bicycle.’

  She laughed out loud. Looked at him as if he were mad. ‘I don’t do bicycles.’

  ‘You could walk everywhere, though not in your red shoes.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘Or I could buy you a golf cart. Paint it blue and have a light installed that shines a horse on the ground. I wonder if Ford make them? The locals would shake their heads.’

  She laughed again. ‘You are crazy.’ But he was warming to it. She could tell.

  ‘It’s time to return, funny how things work out. Help my grandmother at the guest house. I’ve been offered relief police work because I was born there. In fact, I’ve got a bit of a rep.’

  ‘As a hellion?’

  He looked at her. ‘As a law enforcer.’

  Silly her. Her moral man.

  ‘It’ll give the current bloke a chance to get away when I’ve recovered. That way I also get to make sure it’s a safe place for my family.’

  Another thought hit her and she frowned. ‘You say they have babies there?’

  ‘I said I was born there. Birth on the island isn’t encouraged now. Help is dependent on the weather if something went wrong. So not for a few years. But it does have a lot of the small-town differences I prefer. And the weather is better than Sydney. Better than Melbourne. Better than Spinifex.’

  Umm yes. ‘Not hard,’ she said and grimaced at the memory of molten heat shimmering across plains and vast dust-filled distances between the critically injured Douglas and help.

  Lord Howe ran mostly without temperature extremes if she remembered rightly. But it was windy. ‘One of my patients came from there. I seem to remember it has some ridiculous airstrip. They cancel flights all the time.’

  ‘You could commute on most weekends. Fly out again on Sunday nights. Fly-in fly-out is big now. Lots of FIFO families do it all over Australia. We could come to you on alternate weekends.’

  Sienna said dryly, ‘Usually, it’s the man flying out to the mines, not the obstetrician.’ She could imagine her boss. Her career would crash and burn. ‘And if some crosswind blows up I just go to work later in the week, cancel all the appointments. Is that right?’

  He shrugged lopsidedly and she couldn’t help admiring his shoulders again. Another snapshot to add to her collection. What was wrong with her brain? She was besotted. She almost missed his words because she’d drifted off on a tangent.

  Then he said, ‘You’re looking for problems.’

  Her hand crept surreptitiously to her stomach and cupped the invisible mound. ‘We have a problem.’ He or she would expand exponentially.

  He looked at her and there was that glimmer of hope again in his eyes. ‘At least you’ve finally called it a “we” problem now.’

  ‘It might be wee now, but it will grow.’

  ‘I can’t wait.’

  ‘Far out, Douglas.’

  He tipped her sideways until she sprawled on top of him again and took her in his arms with a new tenderness. ‘I know. But together we can do this and do it well.’

  ‘Eve said I should marry you in Spinifex and get conjugal rights when I visit.’

  ‘Your sisters are both intelligent, caring women. As you are if you would only believe it.’

  Sienna rested her head on his chest and breathed in the woodsy smell of Douglas. The only man she could possibly contemplate having a child with.

  Douglas growing up on an isolated island explained a lot about his choice to work amidst remote communities. There wasn’t much difference, she guessed, between isolation through empty desert or isolation across a vast ocean. Except this town had beaches and restaurants and was two hours from Sydney. It really wouldn’t be a hardship to live there on her weekends off.

  As if he read her thoughts he said, ‘You would be unavailable for consultations. That means you have to get your weekends off. To laze on the beach and play with the children.’

  Like that worked so well in Spinifex. Then she thought about his ‘play with children’ comment. Children? More? Good grief. Was he talking about her? ‘Is there a hairdresser and a coffee shop?’

  Chapter Forty-eight

  One month later

  Outside Sienna’s bungalow on Lord Howe Island in the grey of early morning, the kentia palm leaves rustled against each other like wooden fingers in the thick tropical foliage. She was alone, of course. Freaking Douglas and his morals.

  In the background, the staccato sound of the leaves melded with the thump of the surf against the reef and created soothing notes that calmed her. An island? So different to what she’d expected.

  The impact of the sea infiltrated all over the island, its scent, its sound, reflecting off everything, the birds that it brought and the tides that carried flotsam. She’d discovered flotsam when she’d gone for a walk with Douglas last evening after the small commercial aircraft had swooped in over the craggy mountains, then along the white beach, to land on the tiny airstrip.

  When she’d stepped out of the plane it couldn’t have been more different to Spinifex. Sea birds wheeled overhead, daring her to look up, and she first heard the kentia palms clacking in the breeze. Douglas had been waiting at the white gate that led to the arrival building, his solid frame a safe harbour she couldn’t wait to anchor in. His eyes met hers steadily, warm and patient, and slightly amused at the luggage she’d brought.

  So, Douglas was an island man. She’d been reading about the island history at night before she went to sleep, since Douglas had gone home last month after being released from hospital. It explained so many things. And she’d learned the rest from Alma, who phoned once a week.

  Douglas’s sister and parents had been born and died on this island. Later Douglas would take her over to the little cemetery where all his family lay at the edge of the rain forest beneath the soaring fig trees.

  She rolled over and stared at the tiny grey gecko above her bed, the pads of his toes stuck to the wall like suction caps, his bright eyes inquisitive as she thought about the coming day. She couldn’t believe she was actually marrying Douglas. Or having a baby, though she had a bit more time to get used to that life-altering fact.

  Her sisters had been overjoyed, on both counts, and she could hear them stirring in the bungalows on either side of her with their families. Children’s voices rose, with Callie’s calm tones shooshing them.

  Sienna still couldn’t believe that Alma and Maddy remained a part of their lives, having moved with them to the island. Such a promising part. Maddy would au pair for Douglas while studying, when Sienna went back to work after their baby was born, though she’d seen Eve and Callie smile secretly at each other when she’d said that.

  What? Well, maybe she would go part-time. Of course she would. After some maternity leave.

  Alma had caught her up on Spinifex news. The hotel had been demolished and the insurance company were covering the replacement. She’d contacted the young couple who were interested and the sale was being prepared so that Alma would be loaded with a retirement fund. Alma even knew about Kyeesha, the woman Sienna had seen. She’d had her surgery for ovarian cancer and would undergo a round of IV chemo every four weeks but allowed to fly home in between. And Blue’s wife was so much better after her surgery.

  On the island Alma had connected big time with Douglas’s grandmother, Mirabelle McCabe, who couldn’t believe her luck that Douglas had come home and she’d finally been inundated with family. Alma took to helping Mirabe
lle at the guesthouse with her usual enthusiasm, and while she couldn’t buy a house on the island yet, she could work here and start to put down roots, and in a few years she could cement them. That year she’d make a tiny memorial grave for Pearl on the island and settle for ever.

  The whole guesthouse shone with fresh paint and hard work. All the pretty cabins had rapidly been restored to their former glory for the wedding, apparently, by an army of helpers Douglas seemed to know intimately even though he hadn’t been here for ten years. And with money she hadn’t known he had.

  And the church was waiting. Sienna had never thought she’d do the whole kit and caboodle of wedding dress and bridesmaids, wedding cake and eternal vows but there you go.

  The lengths she’d go to so that she could officially move in with Douglas. She couldn’t wait.

  Epilogue

  Twelve months later

  It was Sienna’s third weekend on call since she’d returned to work from maternity leave and it was all feeling wonderfully familiar. Tricky triplets again. Cilla’s first set. Though this time they’d waited for the booked caesarean instead of jumping the gun. Sienna winced at the thought. She hated that word ‘gun’.

  The beam from the operating-room light followed the squirming newborn as Cilla handed the baby on towards the neonatal specialists. Sienna’s clenched gut relaxed as the new consultant leaned over the screen to talk to the parents. ‘Congratulations. Number three is a girl. And she’s strong.’

  Sienna knew Cilla’s relief was hidden under her mask, and despite the fact that Sienna was only assisting, she didn’t envy her that responsibility. Worrisome little things, triplets.

  An hour later the repair had been completed. The babies were well, the mother wheeled out of the operating theatre on the gurney, and the father walked beside her as they moved through to recovery.

  Sienna looked after them wistfully. Douglas had been there when Destiny had been born. Holding her hand. Looking at Eve for reassurance during the tumultuous birth. His eyes wide with wonder as their baby had entered the world. And they’d both been so besotted and bemused by the exquisiteness of their daughter.

  She wondered if Destiny was awake on the island. Before her return, she usually had an afternoon sleep and Sienna had taken to lying down with her just because she could stare and admire her while she slept.

  She pulled off her mask and gloves and unhitched the disposable gown, pulling on her high red shoes. Then she alcohol-rubbed her hands absently and followed Cilla through the theatre exit. Already Cilla was filling her ears with ideas of what they could do. Exciting times. She pulled on her high red shoes. So why was she feeling so flat?

  She pushed open her office door and her secretary looked particularly pleased with herself. ‘You have visitors in your office.’

  Sienna’s heart jumped and she quickened her pace. She was going to be disappointed if . . .

  ‘Douglas!’ She breathed his name as she closed the door softly behind her. Looked across at her magnificent husband, holding their world in his arms, the heat of his expression warming her from the toes up. Her family.

  ‘We missed you. Thought we’d come and spend the week with you. Alma’s got the home front covered.’

  She stepped into his arms for a threesome hug. ‘I missed you, too. Both of you. We may need to tweak this separation business. Maybe we could do alternate weeks.’

  ‘That sounds like a plan.’ And then his mouth met hers.

  Acknowledgements

  The Baby Doctor was always intended to be Sienna’s story, but it fast became Maddy’s, too, showing her battle to be strong while experiencing domestic violence. Then along came Alma’s story as well, and suddenly I had these three amazing women characters.

  I love these women: none perfect, all human, and all with great depth of character and resilience. I love their unlikely friendship and the way they see the unique qualities in one another, the way they are there for each other. Like strong women are.

  Sienna played a minor role in Red Sand Sunrise, where she first conducted research for Blanche Mackay. So thank you, Sienna and Blanche, for teaming up again to solve another medical mystery.

  Sienna, with her totally unsuitable attraction to outback policeman Douglas, is a delight to me (and garnered many reader letters asking for their resolution) and I had such fun helping the two of them solve their barriers to finding happiness together. I hope you enjoyed their story as much as I did.

  The background idea for this book came from an Emergency Disaster Management course at my small rural hospital about managing natural and man-made disasters. The course increased my already huge respect for the emergency services in our country and the regulatory bodies who keep us safe, but the highlight for me was a fabulous presentation given by Dr Andrew Kovendy, Director of Medical Physics and Area Radiation Safety Officer. Andrew spoke about nuclear accidents, radioactive fallout and even an incident in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico where a Co-60 treatment unit was dumped in the local scrapyard, broken open, and the Co-60 pellets ended up being recycled in steel products that were shipped to the US (nearly 1000 tons in total). One truck loaded with contaminated steel mistakenly turned into the Los Alamos Scientific labs (where the first atomic bombs were developed) and set off alarms everywhere.

  I realised an incident like this would be perfect in my book to direct Sienna back into Douglas’s orbit. Before the day ended, I asked Dr Kovendy if I could contact him if I came up with a story that involved radiation poisoning or exposure, as I would need an expert’s opinion on the viability of my currently vague ideas. To my delight he said yes, and so I want to thank Andrew for his input and enthusiasm, especially considering his own professional workload.

  I imagined the setting between Red Sand and Winton, around the remote town of Boulia because I wanted to include the intriguing Min Min light, and the stark landscapes of the area suited my story. The dinosaur museum at Winton also fascinates me – though not Sienna, it seems. I enjoyed the fact that Douglas studied dinosaurs and clouds and wanted Sienna to love them too: it is amusing when a character just won’t be enthused even though you want them to be.

  The clouds came from a fabulous little book that I couldn’t resist picking up called The Cloud Collector’s Handbook by Gavin Pretor-Pinney, which is an official publication from The Cloud Appreciation Society. There really is a site called www.cloudcollectors.com. Since then I’ve been collecting clouds from home – especially around sunset – and enjoying the chase.

  I would like to sincerely thank my publisher, Ali Watts, for her fabulous input that helped me order the chaos as all the ideas flowed in, and Amanda Martin, my awesome editor. Alex Nahlous, thanks again for copy-editing, and Laura Cook for proofreading.

  Also, of course, Clare Forster, my wonderful, clever and classy agent who has been such a supporter in my career. Thank you, Clare.

  I’d also like to thank my wonderful writer friends. This time I mention Elle Findlay, historical and contemporary writer, for being her supportive self and for introducing me to Margie Lawson. Thank you, Margie, for teaching me new self-editing skills that I love. Trish Morey for being the sounding board when I’m pulling my hair out, and for sharing a fab research trip to Lord Howe Island (for which Sienna was very grateful). The Maytoners, my far-flung writers group, because, even after ten years, you are all there in the background cheering the little wins and commiserating for the less-fun moments.

  I’d like to thank my workmates – the midwives, doctors and midwifery students – for being excited for me, especially my midwifery manager, Gail, who allows me to be creative with my work roster as book deadlines approach. You are all champions and make me smile every single day.

  As always, I thank my darling husband, Ian, the kindest and gentlest man I know, who in our fortieth year together has the least fun workload – me – as I push through in deadline mode several times a year. I promise no deadlines on our next holiday, darling. But I do need to write every day or I go a bit ma
d.

  And finally, to you, my dear readers, for your lovely letters, the reviews that mean so much in the techy world of today, and for the fact that you buy my books, borrow my books and ask for my books. It is such a privilege to have you spend time in my imaginary world. Thank you, sincerely. Fiona.

  About the Author

  Fiona McArthur has worked as a midwife for thirty years. She is the clinical midwifery educator in her rural maternity unit, and teaches emergency obstetric strategies while working with midwives and doctors from remote and isolated areas.

  Fiona has written more than thirty romances, which have sold over two million copies in twelve languages. She has been a midwifery expert for Mother and Baby magazine and is the author of Aussie Midwives. She has also written the novels Red Sand Sunrise, The Homestead Girls and Heart of the Sky. She lives on a farm in northern New South Wales.

  Also by Fiona McArthur

  Red Sand Sunrise

  The Homestead Girls

  Heart of the Sky

  Non-fiction

  Aussie Midwives

  When the father she barely knew dies suddenly, midwife Eve Wilson decides she owes it to him to go to the funeral and meet her stepfamily in Red Sand. She doesn’t expect to be so completely charmed by the beautiful remote township in far west Queensland – or by local station owner, Lex McKay.

  After disappointment and heartbreak in Sydney, Dr Callie Wilson doesn’t hesitate to move home and spend some time with her grieving mother. The chance to establish the area’s first medical clinic seems a perfect opportunity, and Callie is keen to involve Eve, who she’s just getting to know.

  Melbourne-based obstetrician Sienna Wilson can’t understand why anyone would want to bury themselves in the outback, but when her hospital sends her north to research the medical mystery affecting women in Red Sand, it seems fate is intent on bringing the three sisters together. And when disaster strikes, they must each decide if being true to themselves means being there for each other . . .