by Kate Hardy
Oliver shook his head. ‘I think climbing means too much to you for you ever to give it up. And you’d need to discuss treatment with your GP. But if my hunch is right and climbing’s what you do to manage it, then you need to find something to challenge you until you’re fit enough to go back to climbing. Something you can do while you’re resting and healing.’
‘I might have done that,’ Rob said, thinking about the sewing and Florence. ‘Or, rather, a friend might have found the answer.’
‘Friend?’
Of course his twin would pick up on that. They knew how each other’s minds worked and often finished each other’s sentences. Rob wrinkled his nose. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘You don’t do complications.’
‘I know. But I kind of want to.’ He sighed. ‘Which is even more of a complication, and I don’t have a clue what to do about it. Where to start.’
‘Be honest with her. Talk to her,’ Ollie said. ‘Don’t keep stuff back.’
‘The ADHD? She was the one who suggested it. There was a boy in the department with a spring stuck in his hand.’
Oliver grinned. ‘That sounds like the sort of thing you would’ve done at school.’
‘Yeah,’ Rob admitted. ‘The more she talked to the boy’s mum, the more she thought he sounded like me. So she asked me if I’d ever considered it.’
Oliver thought about it. ‘That makes a lot of sense. The way you need to be on the move all the time. The fact you’re such a minimalist—if you don’t have any clutter in the first place, that means you can’t get overwhelmed by it. The way you hyper-focus, whether it’s work or climbing or anything else you do. Actually, that makes you pretty amazing, because you’ve worked out how to deal with it all by yourself, without even knowing what the problem is in the first place.’
‘I did get a fair bit of help,’ Rob corrected him. ‘Remember the teacher who got me into climbing?’
‘That’s a good point,’ Oliver said. ‘He’d probably seen quite a few kids who couldn’t settle and discovered that the discipline of climbing helped them.’ He frowned. ‘I wonder why he didn’t talk to Mum and Dad about it and suggest having you tested?’
‘Maybe he did and they said no, I’d always been a busy child, and it was just a phase I was going through. Not that I’m criticising them,’ Rob said swiftly, ‘just trying to make sense of things.’
‘Back then, ADHD and Asperger’s weren’t really understood,’ Oliver mused. ‘We still don’t know enough about the spectrum, but back then a child who couldn’t pay attention and never got homework in on time would’ve been labelled lazy—nobody would’ve thought about teaching them time management.’
‘I never handed my homework in late,’ Rob said. ‘Though I did zone out in a couple of exams. The teachers assumed I was distracted by girls.’
‘Which was also fair,’ Oliver said, ‘considering the number of them who fell at your feet.’
Rob shrugged. ‘Right now I feel a bit of an idiot for not realising before why I was different.’
‘Talk to your GP. Get the official diagnosis. And,’ Oliver said, warming to his theme, ‘you’re right about stuff other than meds being able to help. For a start, there’s exercise.’
Rob raised an eyebrow. ‘Climbing?’
‘Not just that. Something you can do anywhere. Gemma and I have been sorting out stuff for our elderly patients.’
Rob gave him a speaking look. ‘I’m ten minutes older than you, not four decades.’
‘I don’t mean that. I meant the stuff we’ve been putting on the practice website about exercise for health. Mental as well as physical. There’s yoga.’
Yoga—which Rob knew Florence did every week. Could he do yoga with her?
‘A one-to-one teacher would probably be more helpful than a class for the mindfulness stuff. I found something called mindful walking, the other day, but I haven’t got round to researching it properly yet. I’ll add it to my list and see if it’s something that might work for you.’ Oliver smiled. ‘And I’ll do any or all of it with you, if you feel too self-conscious or weird to do it on your own.’
‘Thank you, because right now I feel a bit stupid for not realising it before.’
‘You’re very far from stupid, and you’re not the only one who should’ve picked it up.’ Oliver clapped his brother’s shoulder. ‘We’ve got this. And you need to talk to your friend. Tell her how you feel about her.’
‘What if she doesn’t feel the same way?’
Oliver coughed. ‘We’ve had this conversation before. Except it was me with the doubts, last time. Take your own advice. Talk to her and be honest.’
‘But how do you know, Olls? When you meet The One?’
Oliver looked at him. ‘It’s that serious?’
‘Answer the question.’
Oliver sighed. ‘I got it wrong with Tabby, remember.’
‘Yes, but you’ve got it right with Gemma. How did you know?’
‘She made me feel as if the sun was shining every time she walked into the room,’ Oliver said. ‘The doubts were all in my head. If I’d be enough for her—because I wasn’t enough for Tabby.’ He looked at Rob. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Florence.’
‘How does she make you feel?’
‘Still,’ Rob said. ‘I can be still, with her. It’s...’ He shook his head. ‘But she’s been let down, and I’ve never wanted to commit to anyone before. There’s always been a mountain to climb and a world to conquer.’ He paused. ‘What if I hurt her? I can’t trust myself to commit.’
‘The old you—before the kidney—would never even have considered that,’ Oliver said.
Rob flinched. ‘Because I’m selfish and unthinking.’
‘No. You were always honest and you never pretended to be anything you weren’t,’ Oliver said. ‘But you sound different. You sound as if you want something else now.’
‘I do.’ And that particular revelation still shocked him. ‘But, when I’m fully fit again, will I be like I was before?’
‘Restless? I don’t know,’ Oliver said. ‘But having to be still and wanting to be still are two very different things. One of them is your choice.’
‘I guess.’
‘How does Florence feel about you?’
‘I don’t know,’ Rob admitted. ‘I think she likes me.’
‘That’s a good start.’ Oliver paused. ‘The only way to find out is to talk to her.’
Talking. Which he was great at when it came to putting patients at their ease, and rubbish at when it came to relationships. But he knew his twin was right.
* * *
‘What are you doing?’ Florence asked, the next morning, when Rob walked into the kitchen wearing his work suit.
‘Going to work. If you don’t mind giving me a lift, that is.’
‘I do mind,’ she said. ‘You were signed off for a week.’
‘It’s been nearly a week,’ he said.
‘Six days.’
‘What’s one little day between friends?’ he asked with a smile. ‘And I feel perfectly fine.’
‘You’re pushing yourself,’ Florence warned.
‘I’ll pace myself. I promise,’ he said. ‘But I need to be back at work. I need to feel I’m doing something.’
‘You were signed off for a week,’ she repeated.
‘And I’m feeling back to normal,’ he said. ‘It’s Thursday. I’m not due in tomorrow. If I go in today, it eases me back into things.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘To be precise, it eases me back into the schedule that’s meant to ease me back into things.’
‘If you feel the slightest bit rough,’ she said, ‘then you say so and you stop.’
‘I will. Promise,’ he said. ‘For me, believe me, this is taking it slowly.’
‘Hmm.’ But she dr
ove him in.
And it was fine until the middle of the afternoon, when the paramedics brought in a young mum-to-be who’d been in an accident.
* * *
‘This is Kelly. Thirty-four, five and a half months pregnant with her first baby, and she was rear-ended in a queue of traffic,’ the paramedic told Florence and Rob. ‘The airbag didn’t go off, but she’s worried because she can’t feel the baby moving.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I couldn’t pick up a heartbeat with a stethoscope, but that could be the way the baby’s lying.’
Florence really hoped she was right.
The paramedic spoke normally again. ‘No sign of contractions, no leaks of any kind of fluid, and obviously Kelly’s worried so her pulse rate is a bit on the high side.’
Some good news, some not so good. ‘OK. Thanks. I’ll get a call up to Maternity,’ Florence said quietly, and turned to her patient. ‘Kelly, I’m Dr Jacobs and this is Dr Langley. I know right now you’re feeling scared, and we’re here to look after you and the baby. Before today, did you feel much movement?’ With a first baby, Florence knew the mum might not even feel the baby moving until around twenty-four weeks.
‘A bit. It felt like fluttering.’ Kelly was pale. ‘But there’s been nothing since the crash.’
‘That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a problem,’ Rob reassured her. ‘Babies all have different rhythms. Are you booked in with the team here?’
‘No, I live in Glasgow. I just came over for the day to see my gran. I... Oh, God.’ She bit her lip. ‘I can’t lose this baby.’
‘Can we call anyone for you?’ Rob asked.
She shook her head. ‘My partner’s on his way. And my mum’s called Gran to say I...’ Kelly shuddered, and her words ground to a halt.
‘That’s fine. He’ll be here soon,’ Florence said soothingly. ‘We’ll give you an ultrasound scan so we can see how the baby’s doing.’ And so she could check the placenta; an impact, even if the jolt wasn’t that severe, could make the placenta shear away. ‘I’ll examine you as well, if that’s OK.’ She took Kelly’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I know right now everything feels incredibly scary, but you’re in the best place.’
Kelly was shaking and crying too much to reply.
Please let the baby be all right, Florence begged silently. And she was glad Rob was here. He was the perfect person to help her, right now. Those blue eyes and that smile of his would go a long way towards helping calm Kelly down.
‘Do you know your blood group?’ Rob asked.
‘A positive,’ Kelly said shakily.
Florence exchanged a glance with Rob. That was one complication they could avoid, then. If Kelly had been Rhesus negative, there was a risk that if the baby was positive and the baby’s blood mixed with hers, Kelly’s immune system might become sensitised and attack the baby’s red blood cells. Rhesus disease was the last thing Kelly needed right now.
‘That’s good,’ Florence said. ‘Do you have any pain—anything that feels like a bruise, or any feelings of tightness?’
Kelly shook her head. ‘I don’t... I can’t...just... Please, is my baby OK?’ she begged.
‘I’m going to get the portable scanner now,’ Florence said. ‘I’ll be gone for five minutes tops.’
‘And I’m going to stay right by your side,’ Rob said, his voice full of reassurance. ‘Try and breathe slowly for me—three counts in, three counts out—and I promise that will help with all the scary stuff. I’ll count you through it. Count along in your head with me. And that’s in, two, three...’
Florence knew she was leaving Kelly in the best possible hands. Rob was excellent with patients, calm and kind. He’d be the perfect anchor. Once she’d closed the curtains round the cubicle, she grabbed the first person she saw. ‘Ranj, I’ve got a woman in from an RTA. It’s her first pregnancy and she can’t feel the baby move. Can you grab someone from Maternity, and tell them it’s urgent? Rob’s with her now and I’m getting the portable scanner.’
‘I’m on it,’ Ranj said.
‘Thanks.’
She wheeled the scanner through to the cubicle. ‘How are you doing?’ she asked.
‘The baby’s still not moving,’ Kelly whispered.
Please, please let this be just panic and a first-time mum not yet used to feeling her baby’s movements, Florence begged silently. Please let it all be OK.
She gave Kelly a reassuring smile, and talked her through what she was doing as she set up the scan.
‘We wanted this baby so much,’ Kelly said. ‘It took us three attempts at IVF. All I want is to be a mum—and this is all my fault. If I hadn’t come to see my gran, then I wouldn’t have had the accident.’
‘It’s absolutely not your fault,’ Florence reassured her. ‘Apart from the fact you were stationary when the other driver hit you, accidents happen anywhere.’
Florence knew it was true, but it put a lump in her throat. This could so easily have been her, if Dan had agreed to try for IVF with a sperm donor. She knew how it felt to be so desperate to have a baby. The waiting and the hoping and the disappointment that grew sharper every month.
* * *
That little catch in Florence’s voice right now: Rob was pretty sure something was very wrong indeed. Had something like this happened to Florence, and maybe her ex hadn’t been supportive enough?
He glanced at Florence, but her expression was that of a concerned doctor; the woman was hiding behind the job. Though he noticed a moment of anguish when Florence stroked the transceiver head across Kelly’s stomach. ‘I can see the baby’s heart beating,’ she said, and turned the screen so Kelly could see it for herself. ‘Look. The baby’s kicking. And the heartbeat’s there. Nice and strong.’
Kelly sobbed in relief, and Florence held her hand tightly. ‘It’s going to be all right,’ she soothed.
Though that wasn’t strictly true. Rob could see a blood clot on the screen—something Florence clearly wasn’t making a big deal of it because it would terrify their patient. It looked to him as if Kelly might have a concealed placental abruption, where the blood was trapped between the wall of the womb and the placenta rather than showing as a vaginal bleed. He exchanged a glance with Florence and knew her clinical judgement mirrored his.
‘Kelly, may I examine you?’ Florence asked gently.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘No sign of blood or any tears,’ she said.
But then Kelly said, ‘My back aches a bit now. I didn’t really notice before, because I was so scared about the baby and that’s all I could focus on.’
‘What kind of ache?’ Florence asked.
‘Like when you catch the back of your hand on the corner of a desk and about three days later it’s sore,’ Kelly said.
Like a bruise. That definitely wasn’t a good sign, Rob thought.
‘I’m going to ask someone to come down from the maternity department to see you,’ Florence said carefully. ‘It might be that they decide to keep you in overnight and keep an eye on you, because the symptoms you’re describing mean it’s possible that a bit of your placenta has come away from the wall of your womb.’
‘My placenta’s come away?’ Kelly’s face paled. ‘Is my baby going to be OK?’
That depended on the severity of the abruption, but Rob knew they needed to keep Kelly as calm as possible. ‘We’ll do our very best to keep your baby safe,’ was the best he could promise.
Ranj came in to tell them that Naz Mahmoud, one of the senior registrars from the maternity unit, was on her way down. A couple of minutes later, Naz arrived and Florence had a quiet confab with her outside the cubicle to fill her in on the situation before bringing her in to introduce her to their patient. ‘Naz will look after you now, Kelly. All the best,’ Florence said.
‘You’re in good hands,’ Rob reassured her.
He intended to grab Floren
ce and whisk her off to the hospital canteen for a coffee and a quiet chat, to see if she was OK, but the red phone shrilled again with news that the paramedics were bringing in someone with a suspected stroke; there just wasn’t time to leave the department.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ she replied.
He knew she wasn’t telling the truth, but right then there was nothing he could do to help.
* * *
At the end of their shift, when their patient with a stroke had been admitted, Florence said, ‘Give me ten minutes before I give you a lift?’
‘Sure. I’ll get some hot chocolate to go. Meet you by the car?’
‘Thanks.’
Whenever was upsetting her, it went deep. And Rob knew he was going to have to tread very carefully indeed to make sure he didn’t make things worse.
When she met him at the car, she was all smiley and chirpy. And Rob could see straight through the act. ‘Hot chocolate,’ he said. ‘And cake.’ Cake made everything better. ‘Do you want me to drive?’
‘No, it’s fine. Thanks for the hot chocolate.’ She took a sip, almost as if she was trying to prove to him that she was fine, then slid the cup into the holder in her car.
Rob fell back on the doctors’ old trick of waiting for the patient to fill the silence. But, with Florence also being a doctor and knowing the same trick, it backfired on him; she didn’t say a word. And she had that brittle smile on her face all the way into her flat.
He knew he wasn’t great with emotional stuff, but no way was he going to abandon her. ‘I’ll cook. There’s pasta in the fridge and a pot of sauce.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ she said.
‘You’ve had a tough shift,’ he said. ‘And you’re not okay. Florence, I’m a guy and I’m not great at talking about feelings, but even I can see you’re upset, and I’m pretty sure that it’s to do with Kelly. Talk to me. I’m here, and it’s not going any further than me.’
When she still said nothing, he sighed. ‘Just ignore the fact I’m six feet tall and male. Imagine I’m your ballerina sister,’ he said, ‘because I think you really need a hug.’ He wrapped his arms round her and held her close. He wondered if she was going to pull away again, or if she’d actually talk to him.
