‘But I don’t need any! Where would I go in new clothes?’
‘You buy some new clothes and your chance will come. Take my word for it.’
Chapter Five
ADAM was realising that the idea of a branch surgery was a good one. He had also realised what a treasure the practice had in Eunice Padgett, the practice manager. Eunice had dealt with insurance, supply of equipment, hire of the premises. She had organised a mail-shot of all those in Tyndale who might be interested. She had liaised with Peter McCarthy and had found him a man after her own heart. And now Adam had just finished his first session at the branch. It had been a useful day.
‘Like you said, we’re going to get the old and the not well off first of all,’ he said to Cal later as they talked in the coffee room that afternoon. ‘A couple of the older ones either couldn’t get into Keldale or couldn’t be bothered trying. I found one lady with a very suspicious chest – I’ve arranged for an ambulance to pick her up and take her to hospital for tests. And there’s another thing…’
‘Come on,’ said Cal, ‘I’m more interested in your doubts than your certainties.’
‘Harry Kerr. Farmworker, aged forty-eight, apparently lives with his wife and three children in a tied cottage. Says he can’t afford to be ill, whatever that means. I’ve looked at his notes and so far he’s been very healthy. He presented with a very unpleasant cough and a skin rash, said he’d had both for weeks. He’s been feeling bad all the time but he daren’t take time off work, said he’s needed. He just wanted a tonic.’
‘A tonic,’ said Cal. ‘A little bottle of pink medicine to make him all right?’
‘That kind of thing. I tried to get him to talk about his work and I wondered … I wondered about organophosphate poisoning. He told me he’d been handling some new kind of weedkiller and, yes, some did spill, it always does. Frankly, it’s something I’ve never come across before.’
Cal scowled. ‘You could well be right. Most of the local farmers are very careful, but one or two … what did you tell Harry?’
‘I took a blood sample and told him we’d let him know. But probably I’d like to see him next week.’
‘Sounds good. Let’s get that sample to the lab. So, you had a good day?’
‘It was satisfying,’ replied Adam. ‘And I made a. lot of new friends.’
Even though they were next-door neighbours she didn’t see Adam for a couple of days. There were a number of calls on her time, and she knew he, too, was being kept busy. In one way she didn’t mind not seeing him. She had so much to think about, new ideas to get used to, so a breathing space was quite a good idea.
She decided to have a domestic evening and did some baking. When she had time she found that baking was soothing, therapeutic. So she fetched out her packets of dried fruit, nuts and so on and baked three super-rich cakes. And they were good! After trying a slice she wrapped one in a cloth, put it in a tin and left it on his doorstep with a little note. ‘Felt domesticated, Made you a cake. Lyn.’
Next morning the tin was back on her own doorstep, filled with flowers and with a note back. ‘Wonderful cake! I’m having to ration myself. Midwife, sailor, house organiser and now baker. Can’t wait to find out what other talents you have. Adam.’
She smiled, and put the flowers in a vase. Things were progressing.
Next evening she was home in good time and decided to call on him later when she knew he’d be back from evening surgery. A call just for a chat and a cup of tea. See how he was settling in. Be a good neighbour.
She was surprised when she heard a car engine stop outside and went to look through the window. Not many cars stopped here. The car was actually outside Adam’s house, a new, highly polished, dark green Jaguar. Not at all a local kind of car.
The Jaguar wasn’t very well parked. As Lyn watched, a woman climbed out of the driver’s seat, rather unsteadily, Lyn thought. She staggered and had to hold onto the car.
The woman was slim, very well dressed, in light coloured leather trousers, high heels and what seemed to be a blue silk blouse. She was blonde, with big hair, an obviously professionally styled confection of curls. Lyn guessed her to be about forty.
The woman went to Adam’s door, leaned against it and knocked. Of course, there was no answer. And when she tried to knock again Lyn saw that there was a scarf wrapped round one hand, and it appeared to be bloodstained.
Lyn did the neighbourly thing, and went to talk to the woman. ‘Do you want Dr Fletcher? I’m sorry, he’s at evening surgery and will be for the next hour or so.’
The woman swayed slightly. ‘Typical Adam. When you want him urgently he’s somewhere else.’
‘I’m Lyn Pierce. I’m a midwife at the practice and a friend of Adam’s. May I help in any way?’
The woman smiled, then grimaced with pain. ‘I’m Ros Roswell, I’m Adam’s TV producer. I did hope for a bit of professional skill from him. Stupid of me, I got out my map to check the route, tripped over my own heels and fell against a post. I gashed my hand, I think it was on some barbed wire, and since he’s supposed to be a doctor and …’
Lyn realised that the woman was in shock, didn’t really know what she was saying. She interrupted. ‘I’m a nurse as well as a midwife. Come and sit down in my house, take it easy for a while, and I’ll bathe and dress your hand. You’ve had a shock.’
‘But I’ve got to see Adam and …’
‘When he comes home he’ll see your car and call in here. Now, come and sit down before you fall down.’ Lyn put out a hand to steady the woman.
‘Yes, I’d think I need to sit down.’ The woman glanced at Lyn’s hand, saw the ring. ‘It’s very good of you Mrs … Mrs…’
‘Mrs Pierce. But call me Lyn.’ Lyn helped the woman through her front door. She wasn’t going to explain to the woman that she was a widow. There was no time now.
She sat Ros in an easy chair, had a quick look at the cut. It was very long but not too deep. Obviously it was painful, cuts on the hands always were. Lyn decided she’d wait a minute before dressing it.
She fetched Ros the traditional cup of over-sweet tea, told her that perhaps it wasn’t very nice but it was to push up her blood-sugar level. She also gave her a couple of painkillers. And after a while the colour came back to Ros’s cheeks.
Then Lyn fetched her own medical kit, cleaned the cut and closed it with butterfly stitches. ‘I don’t think you need this sutured,’ she said. ‘I’ve done my time in A and E and these should be good enough. But we can ask Adam to take a look when he comes in. Now, you said you cut yourself on barbed wire. Are you up to date with your tetanus jabs?’
‘I certainly am. The firm makes me have a medical every six months and they keep me up to date with things like that.’
‘Good. Want another cup of tea?’
‘Yes, please. But I think my blood-sugar levels are fine now. Could I have an unsweetened cup?’
‘No problem. Then you just sit here for a while until Adam comes home. He shouldn’t be more than three-quarters of an hour.’
Lyn fetched Ros’s second cup and poured herself one. She was looking forward to having a chat with this woman. Ros was from a different world, a world that included Adam. Lyn wanted to know about it.
So far all she had noticed was that Ros was happy to spend money on herself. Not only was the car new, but Ros’s clothes were as expensive as they had appeared. Her watch was a miracle of platinum technology, her rings, bracelet and earrings unobtrusive but suggesting considerable thought and expense.
‘Have you known Adam long?’ she asked Ros.
‘All the time he’s been working in TV. I’ve always been his producer. Of course, I work with other people but Adam is the one I like best. And the one who causes me most trouble!’
‘Trouble? He seems very … pleasant to me.’
Ros laughed. ‘Adam causes trouble in his own way. Everyone else I know, I work with, is anxious to get more exposure. They want to front this programme, got an i
dea for another one. But Adam isn’t much bothered about appearing. I’ve got great plans for a new series, but is he interested? I’m working up here with a crew at the moment and I’ve grabbed the chance to come and pin him down, to talk to him. Have you seen his programmes, Lyn? He’s good.’
‘I’ve seen one or two. They’re interesting.’
‘He’s a natural, he has great TV presence. He could be big but he’d rather be a doctor. And he’s a wonderful man to work with. There’s no side to him. In the bitchy world of TV, everybody likes him, and that’s unusual.’ Ros giggled. ‘Not that he hasn’t been known to take advantage of it.’
Lyn kept her head bowed. ‘A bit of a ladies’ man?’ she asked in a muffled voice.
‘Well, just a bit. You can’t blame him. Wouldn’t you do the same in those circumstances? But they all stay friendly with him after it’s over.’ Ros giggled again and Lyn realized she was still a little shocked. ‘I’ve even had the odd moments of passion with him myself.’
‘Very nice, too,’ Lyn said levelly. ‘Now, how are you feeling?’
‘So much better. I must thank you and …’
There was a knocking at the door. Lyn went to answer it and found Adam there. He smiled at her. ‘Hi, Lyn. There’s a car outside my house and I …’
She interrupted him, her voice cool. ‘Your friend’s in here. She’s hurt her hand. I’ve dressed it but you might like to take a look at it.’
Behind her, she heard Ros approaching. ‘Adam Fletcher! I’ve got you now, you’re not escaping me. We’re going to talk business whether you like it or not.’
She smiled at Lyn. ‘Look, thank you so much for looking after me, I do appreciate it. But now I’ve got him I’m going to keep him. Adam! We’re going to get things sorted.’
Adam looked resigned, his eyes swivelling between Lyn and Ros. ‘Ros, you’d better come back to the house, I suppose. Lyn, I wanted to …’
‘You’ve got work to do,’ Lyn said crisply. ‘Goodbye, Ros, hope the hand is OK.’ Then she shut the door.
She stood there a minute, hearing their voices from the other side.
Adam said, ‘Look, Ros, it’s good to see you but I really need to …’
And Ros said, ‘You really need to talk to me. Now, let’s go and get started.’
Then there was the rattle of footsteps fading away. Ros had got her way and Lyn was glad.
She went back into her living room and slumped into a chair. Adam was a womaniser. She should have guessed that a man as charming and good-looking as Adam could have his pick of women. It had been her own stupid fault, she should have known. But she still felt upset. She was disappointed, both with him and herself.
A couple of hours later there was another knock on her door. There were a smiling Ros and an anxious Adam. ‘Ros is going to stay the night at the Red Lion,’ Adam said. ‘We’re going there for a drink now. We’d both love it if you came, too.’
‘I’d really like it if you came,’ Ros said, ‘so I could buy you a drink to say thank you.’
‘I’m not in the mood for a drink,’ Lyn said. ‘Why doesn’t Ros stay with you, Adam? I could even lend you some sheets. If they were needed …’
He looked as if he wanted to argue, but saw her set face. ‘Ros will be happier at the Red Lion,’ he said. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to …?’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she said. ‘Goodnight, Ros.’ Then she shut the door.
Feeling even more dissatisfied and angry, Lyn went back and turned on the TV. Nothing on there to interest her. She picked up a book, couldn’t get into it. There was no music she wanted to listen to. This was turning into one of the worst evenings of her life.
Finally she went and had a bath. She poured half a jar of foaming something into it and then stayed there for much longer than normal, turning on the hot water tap with her toe. How could she have been so stupid? At least she had found out in time what Adam was like. Otherwise she might have been just another woman in a long list of conquests. The very thought made her squirm. Why had she been tempted to come out of her shell? Why had she caused herself so much more misery?
Eventually she got out of her bath, put on a nightdress and dressing gown and sat alone in the living room. No point in going to bed, she wouldn’t sleep. She’d sit here and wait and perhaps eventually she might … once again there was a knock at her door. At this hour of night?
It was Adam. They stood and surveyed each other in silence. He was unsmiling, but he looked determined.
‘Yes?’ she asked. The monosyllable hung in the air between them.
‘May I come in? I won’t be very long.’
She paused just long enough for him to know that she didn’t really want him there, then silently led the way to her living room. She remained standing, so he had to do the same.
He looked round the room, as if trying to collect his thoughts. Then he said, ‘I believe in frank talk. Most things can be explained by complete honesty, and I’d expect it from you. So tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Why should anything be wrong? Your friend’s called, you’ve been for a drink and I …’
‘Lyn! I deserve better than this. Just tell me what’s wrong and then I’ll go.’ His voice was angry.
But she was angry, too. ‘You deserve nothing from me. But I will tell you. Recently I’ve been getting quite … fond of you. I thought that you might be something new in my life. But one thing I will not be, and that’s the latest in a long line of women.’
She hadn’t realised just how angry she was. For most of the last three years she had taught herself to avoid emotion of any kind, to try to live a life detached from feelings. But now she was feeling. And it hurt.
‘I suppose you think that because I’m a widow I’m easy game,’ she snarled at him.
Then she stopped. She hadn’t really meant to say that. But in her rage it had slipped out.
Adam’s face whitened as if she had slapped him, and he half turned, as if to go. For a minute she felt ashamed, she hadn’t intended to cause him so much pain. But what about the pain he had caused her?
Hoarsely he said, ‘I never thought of you as any kind of game. I was always deadly serious. And never did I think that you were easy.’
He rocked backwards and forwards for a minute, his face closed as if he was thinking. She said nothing. There was nothing more to say.
Eventually he said, ‘Let me guess. Ros told you I was a womaniser?’
‘She hinted,’ said Lyn. ‘I gather she even had a brief fling with you herself.’
‘Hmm. That cut on the hand must have affected her more than either she or I realised,’ he said. ‘She was more shocked than she knew. Usually she’s the soul of discretion. She knows I’d sack her if I thought she was talking carelessly about me.’
For a minute she saw another, tougher Adam, whose existence she had only guessed at before.
He sighed. ‘But I guess it’s not her fault. Lyn, do you think we could sit down?’
She seated herself, silently indicating for him to do the same.
‘I’m not a womaniser,’ he said. ‘Including Ros, I’ve had four relationships that you might call serious. That’s in six years of working in television as an advisor and then a presenter. None of the women were what I hoped and expected to find – someone I could spend the rest of my life with.’
‘Ros said that you’ve remained friends with them all.’
He looked puzzled. ‘Well, yes. I’d like to think any of them could call on me for help. Just because something doesn’t work out is no reason to drop someone.’
‘I still think that four women in four years is rather a lot,’ she said primly. ‘I’ve had one lover in thirty-two years.’
‘That’s not fair! I could have had …’
Her mobile phone rang. There was no way she could ignore it.
The female voice was upset, even hysterical. ‘Lyn, you’ve got to help me! This is Hetty Summers. I think the baby’s coming and I’m alon
e at the farm.’
‘I’ll send for an ambulance, Hetty. Just take it easy and …’
‘I can’t leave the farm! Jack and Cathy are out. They’ve gone to the pictures and I’m supposed to be babysitting. I thought it was just another cramp at first but now I’m sure the baby’s coming and …’
‘I’ll come round,’ said Lyn. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just try to rest.’ She rang off looked up at Adam. ‘Whatever we had to say to each other will have to wait.’
‘What’s the problem? You’re the midwife but don’t forget I’ a doctor.’
Lyn ran upstairs, peeled off her nightclothes and scrabbled for her uniform. ‘Hetty Summers, living with her sister and brother-in-law at Longline Farm,’ she called down. ‘She’s eighteen years old, first baby, not married, father doesn’t want to know. Poor Hetty’s feeling a bit desperate. She’s only thirty-seven weeks gone – I thought we’d have another three weeks but she thinks the baby is coming now. She can’t send for an ambulance, she’s babysitting for her sister’s two young kids. I could turn out an ambulance and Social Services, but it’ll save a lot of work if I go and check up on things.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
Now she ran downstairs, aware that she looked rather ruffled for a cool, competent midwife. ‘No need. I’m a midwife, I’ve probably seen ten times the births you have.’
‘I’d still like to come,’ he said humbly. ‘Perhaps I could boil the water or something. Anyway, I like babies.’
‘Come on, then,’ she said, now exasperated, ‘though I don’t know why you want to.’
‘I’ll just go next door and pick up my bag. I feel undressed without it. And I promise not to interfere unless I’m asked.’
‘You’d better not.’
Longline Farm was high on the fells. First Lyn had to tackle a maze of back roads, then they bumped up the stony path, parked in the dark yard, passed by smells of cattle and made their way to the light shining from the open farmhouse door. As soon as they reached it they could hear the sound of groaning.
Hetty was lying on the couch, clutching her distended abdomen. ‘Lyn, it’s coming, I know it’s coming,’ she cried. ‘The waters have broken and everything.’
Midwife's Baby Wish Page 7
