The Midwife's Child

Aware that his eyes were on her, Brooke gave him a wary glance and then wished she hadn’t. The message in his intense blue gaze was clear enough. He hadn’t finished their conversation. She quickly busied herself helping Jane gather her things together, not relaxing until she heard him leave the room.

‘He’s gorgeous!’ Jane drooled, chattering away as she pulled on her coat. ‘Incredibly good-looking. Is he married?’

Brooke forced a smile. If he was then his wife needed to keep a better hold on him. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I expect he is.’ Jane laughed and picked up her handbag. ‘The good-looking ones are always taken. Lucky wife, having a man like that to take care of her.’

Brooke felt her heart twist and held open the door. Thank goodness they were so busy, Brooke thought as she saw Jed striding off towards Theatre again, followed by his SHO and a flock of medical students. At least it postponed the inevitable confrontation. She didn’t kid herself for one minute that Jed was going to let the matter drop. That one look had said it all.

‘Brooke?’ Paula, the student midwife she’d left with Alison Neal, was hovering in the corridor anxiously. ‘I could do with a hand if you’ve got a minute. Alison’s getting very distressed and I can’t seem to calm her down at all.’

Brooke gave a nod and a brief smile. At least work was a constant distraction. ‘I’ll come now. What pain relief has she had so far?’

‘Just gas and air.’ Paula looked stressed and worried. ‘But she’s really panicky and I can’t seem to relax her at all.’

Brooke followed her into the birthing room and walked straight over to Alison who was sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing rapidly, her hair hanging in damp tendrils over her forehead.

‘How are you doing?’ Brooke sat down next to her and slipped an arm round the woman’s shoulders, feeling the tension under her fingers.

‘I never imagined it would be this painful.’ Alison’s breaths were coming in pants and her cheeks were pale and stained with tears. ‘Breathing just doesn’t seem to work and the gas and air makes me feel sick. I’m no good at this.’

‘You’re doing brilliantly,’ Brooke said quietly, taking charge of the situation and glancing at Paula. ‘Can you draw the curtains, please? Let’s darken the room and try and make the atmosphere more relaxing. Alison, I’m going to use some aromatherapy oils to try and help you relax.’

Alison’s husband frowned. ‘Are they safe in labour?’

‘The ones we use are.’ Brooke stood up and reached into a cupboard for the vaporiser which was kept in each delivery room. ‘Generally we stick to lavender and clary but sometimes I use nutmeg.’

‘How on earth do you know all that?’ Alison looked at her, momentarily distracted. ‘Are you a trained aromatherapist?’

‘Yes, actually,’ Brooke admitted with a smile. ‘Lots of midwives are these days. There’s a general move towards a more holistic approach to pregnancy and birth, and quite a few have done the necessary training to offer aromatherapy to women in labour. We’re very lucky that the unit here encourages that sort of thing.’

Brooke added the oils to the vaporiser and the room was soon filled with the soothing smell of essential oils.

‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Alison closed her eyes and breathed deeply, dropping her head onto her chest as another pain ripped through her body. ‘Here we go again…’

Brooke sat beside her and massaged her gently, talking her quietly through the pain and helping her to breathe properly. When the pain was over Brooke turned to Alison’s husband.

‘It might help if you massaged her back for her.’

He looked helpless. ‘What do I do?’

Together they helped Alison straddle a chair and Brooke showed him how to do thumb-circling on the shoulders using an oil mixture blended with essential oils.

‘Oh, that feels so good, Tim…’ Alison gave a moan of pleasure and closed her eyes, breathing deeply as her husband gently massaged her skin. ‘Tell me you’ll do this when I’m not in labour.’

Tim Neal gave a self-conscious grin. ‘As long as you don’t expect me to go and train as an aromatherapist.’

Brooke stayed with them and monitored Alison’s contractions, and although she was more relaxed it was obvious that she was still finding the pain hard to bear.

‘Would you consider using the pool?’ Brooke crouched down in front of her, her eyes kind and gentle. ‘Many women find it a great pain-reliever, you know.’

Alison shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘I don’t fancy it. I’m sorry, I know it’s illogical…’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Brooke said quietly. ‘I’m just trying to find something that suits you because I think you do need something more, don’t you?’

Alison nodded and the tears slipped onto her cheeks. ‘I’m such a wimp.’

‘You’re not a wimp, Alison, far from it. You’re doing marvellously.’ Brooke sat cross-legged on a cushion and glanced from one to the other. ‘Would you like to consider an epidural?’

‘Paula was just telling us that there is a greater risk of forceps delivery if I have an epidural.’ Alison shifted on the chair, looking uncomfortable and anxious. ‘I really don’t know what to do.’

‘Well, it’s true that there’s a higher incidence of what we call an assisted delivery—that’s forceps or ventouse—with an epidural in place. That’s because you’re not always able to feel the urge to push so well when your lower half is numb. But there’s always the option of allowing the epidural to wear off when you’re ready to push.’

Alison frowned and raked her tangled hair away from her face. ‘And does that work?’

‘Not always,’ Brooke admitted, resting her chin on her palm as she looked at Alison. ‘We can make a good guess as to how quickly you’ll dilate, but some labours can be unpredictable so there’s no guarantee that we can time it perfectly. And some women find it hard to have been pain-free and then suddenly have strong contractions with no build-up.’

‘The truth is, I really want an epidural, but I know midwives hate them.’ Alison bit her lip. ‘You’d rather I tried to do it by myself, wouldn’t you?’

‘Not at all. If you’d like an epidural then that’s fine by me. I would need to examine you because we can’t give you an epidural until you’re at least three centimetres dilated or it can stop your labour, and we don’t want to have to interfere with drips and things.’

Alison glanced at her husband and swallowed hard. ‘I think I would like one.’

‘That’s fine, then.’ Brooke rose to her feet. ‘Let’s get you back on the bed so that I can examine you, and we’ll take it from there.’

Ten minutes later she’d ascertained that Alison was five centimetres dilated and well able to have an epidural.

‘You’re doing really well but you have still got a way to go. The head’s in a good position so I don’t foresee any problems at the moment. Would you like to go for it?’

Alison looked helplessly at her husband and then back at Brooke. ‘I said I wasn’t having anything, but that was before I knew what it felt like.’

‘It doesn’t matter to me, love,’ Tim assured her, giving his wife a quick kiss. ‘You do what feels right.’

Brooke sat down on the bed next to her, her expression sympathetic. ‘You know, there really isn’t a right and a wrong way, Alison. You have to do what feels right to you.’

Tears slipped down Alison’s cheeks. ‘I don’t know. It feels like agony and I’m starting to panic about the delivery itself.’

‘Nothing to panic about,’ Brooke soothed. ‘Just think about now. Let’s work through a few more contractions together and see how you cope.’

She spent another twenty minutes with Alison, at the end of which everyone decided that an epidural was the right option because she was so adamant that she wouldn’t use the pool.

Paula caught up with Brooke in the corridor as she went to bleep the anaesthetist.

‘You’re brilliant with her. I couldn’t get her to relax at all.’

Brooke gave her a tired smile. ‘Don’t blame yourself. She’s very, very anxious.’

‘Is that why you encouraged her to go for the epidural?’

‘She wanted one,’ Brooke said simply, picking up the phone and dialling Switchboard. ‘She just needed reassurance that we wouldn’t disapprove of her choice.’

‘But generally you do try to encourage them to avoid medical intervention?’

‘What we really encourage is freedom of choice for the mother,’ Brooke told her, tucking the receiver under her ear. ‘We want them to have as much choice as possible in their labour and delivery. Alison is clearly not happy about using the pool and she’s in a lot of pain. An epidural is probably right for her. Switch? Can you bleep Dr Penny for me, please?’

‘I’ll need to do regular obs, won’t I?’ Paula scribbled in her notebook and Brooke nodded as she replaced the receiver.

‘Yes. An epidural can lower the blood pressure dramatically. I’ll leave you for now but give me a yell when Dr Penny arrives and I’ll give you a hand.’

The afternoon flew by and Brooke was rushed off her feet, helping students, admitting pregnant women in labour and arranging transfers to the ward.

‘You OK, Brooke?’ Gill caught up with her halfway through the afternoon.

Brooke rubbed her aching neck. ‘Yes, I suppose. I miss spending an entire shift with one woman.’ She exchanged a rueful glance with the senior sister.

‘Yes, well, that’s today’s NHS for you.’ Gill sighed and checked her watch. ‘I hate to ask you this, Brooke, and I suppose your circumstances will make it impossible, but—’

‘Will I work a double shift?’ Brooke chanted, rolling her eyes. ‘Yes, of course I will.’

Gill’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re sure? I thought you might have to rush back.’

‘No. Not tonight.’

‘Well, that’s great. Thanks a lot. How’s Mrs Neal coming along?’

Brooke pulled a face. ‘Slowly. I’ve just bleeped the anaesthetist.’

‘Right. Let me know when she’s delivering.’

Alison Neal continued to make slow progress and by six o’clock she was fully dilated and had been pushing for an hour. As it was her first baby, in theory she could have been left to push for longer but Brooke was worried about the baby.

‘His heart rate is dipping slightly with each contraction, Alison, so I’m going to give the doctor a ring.’

Bother. She was going to have to ring Jed because his SHO didn’t have enough experience, the registrar was off sick and the senior reg wasn’t due to start for another six weeks.

He strode into the room five minutes later and Brooke immediately handed him the trace, dispensing with preliminaries.

‘We’re getting late decelerations.’ She knew that if the baby’s heart rate dropped after the peak of a contraction it could be a sign that the baby was short of oxygen. ‘I’ve tried changing her position but it’s made no difference.’

‘Right.’ Jed frowned down at the trace, and slipped the paper through his fingers, examining it in detail. ‘How many centimetres dilated is she now?’

‘She’s fully dilated and she’s been pushing for an hour, but the head’s still quite high.’

‘OK.’ Jed handed the trace back to her and smiled at the Neals. ‘I’m Jed Matthews, the consultant. How are you doing?’

‘I’ve been better.’ Alison was looking exhausted, her blonde hair hanging limply round her shoulders. ‘What happens now?’

‘I’d like to examine you,’ Jed said gently, ‘and then we’ll decide together what’s best.’

Alison nodded and Brooke gestured to Paula to help Jed as she settled herself on the bed and talked quietly to Alison.

Jed snapped on a pair of gloves and examined Alison carefully, his face a mask of concentration.

‘OK.’ His handsome face was thoughtful as he finished his examination and gave Alison a warm smile. ‘It’s hard to know who’s more tired, you or the baby.’

Alison’s grip tightened on Brooke’s hand and she and her husband exchanged anxious glances. ‘Is he in trouble?’

Jed hesitated, choosing his words carefully. ‘Not yet, but we need to deliver him as quickly as we can. Have you heard of a ventouse delivery?’

Alison took a deep breath. ‘That’s the suction thing, isn’t it?’

Jed nodded. ‘Basically, yes. I attach a flexible cap to the baby’s head and when you push, I give you a bit of extra help. You’re still doing most of the work, but I can give you a helping hand.’

Brooke blinked with admiration. Somehow he’d managed to make it seem as though Alison would still be doing it all herself. Clever man.

‘Will it hurt?’ Alison looked suddenly anxious and Jed shook his head, his eyes kind as he moved over to the sink and started to scrub.

‘Your epidural was topped up not long ago so, to be honest, it shouldn’t, and I’ll be as gentle as I possibly can.’

Seeing Alison’s expression, Brooke decided that Jed’s bedside manner was second to none but, then, she already knew that, didn’t she? Remembering just exactly how skilled Jed’s bedside manner was brought a blush to her cheeks and she dragged her mind back to work with an effort.

‘Paula, would you bleep the paediatrician and then assist Mr Matthews, please? I’ll sit with Alison.’

Alison grabbed her hand tightly. ‘Will you stay with me the whole time?’

‘The whole time,’ Brooke promised, hoping that Jed was as skilled at using the ventouse as he was at performing emergency Caesarean sections.

He was. As soon as she and Tim had manoeuvred Alison into the right position, Jed applied the cup to the baby’s head with enviable ease. He glanced over his shoulder at Paula.

‘Have you seen this before?’

She shook her head and he raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, stand a bit closer, then, and I’ll tell you what I’m doing.’

Paula blushed and did as she was told, sneaking a glance at the broad shoulders as she moved to where he’d indicated she should stand.

Noticing the look, Brooke felt a stab of jealousy which she quickly suppressed. What was the matter with her? Why should she be jealous?

Brooke watched as Jed applied traction, explaining quietly to Paula and talking occasionally to Alison who had Brooke’s hand in a vice-like grip.

‘It’s important not to use excessive traction,’ he murmured, using the force of the contraction to help his own efforts. ‘It’s descending nicely. Well done, Alison. We’ll soon have this baby out. What’s the heart rate doing, Brooke?’

Brooke glanced at the CTG machine and met his eyes. Frankly, it wasn’t good but she didn’t want to panic Alison.

‘Eighty,’ she said flatly, and Jed nodded, comprehension in his blue eyes.

‘Right. One big push for me, Alison. Come on, baby.’ He pulled gently and the head emerged, blue and mottled, just as Sita slid discreetly into the room with the necessary equipment.

‘OK, I’ve finished with the ventouse now. Well done, Alison.’ Jed worked quickly, removing the cup and getting ready to deliver the rest of the baby. ‘Here he comes.’

The baby slithered into his waiting hands and he lifted it smoothly onto Alison’s abdomen, grinning as it started to yell.

‘I love that sound!’

Brooke breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at him, momentarily forgetting the tension between them. She loved that sound, too.

‘Oh, Alison!’ Tim Neal’s voice was choked with emotion as he gently touched his new baby, and Brooke blinked several times. Bother! Why was she always such a marshmallow?

Fifteen minutes later the cord was cut, the placenta delivered and mother and baby were cuddled up together as if they’d known each other for ever.

‘Well, you didn’t need me here at all,’ Sita declared cheerfully, having checked the baby and pronounced it well.

‘Thank you.’ Tears misted Alison’s eyes as she looked at Jed. ‘You were brilliant, wasn’t he, Tim?’

Her husband looked shell-shocked by the whole experience. ‘He certainly was.’

‘Don’t tell him that. It’s crowded enough in the labour ward without having a doctor with an oversized head,’ Brooke quipped, helping Paula clear up after the delivery. But he had done well, she had to admit it. He’d managed to deliver the baby with the minimum of fuss but she’d seen the skill in his technique.

‘She’s gorgeous.’ Jed smiled down at the baby and touched its tiny cheek with one strong finger.

Brooke froze, her eyes fixed on his face.

‘Do you have children, Doctor?’ Alison smiled up at him and Jed shook his head.

‘Not yet. But one day I hope to.’

Suddenly Brooke felt as though she was suffocating and she mumbled an excuse and left the room.

Dear God, what was she going to do? How was she going to handle this?

* * *

It was nearly ten o’clock by the time the labour ward had calmed down, and as she changed and dragged on her coat Brooke felt exhausted. The prospect of a bus ride home filled her with gloom. What on earth was she going to do about the stupid car?

Pushing the worry aside, she stuck her head round the office door and smiled at Gill. ‘I’m off. My bus goes in five minutes.’

‘Thanks, Brooke!’

Brooke gathered up her bits and pieces from the staffroom and dashed out of the hospital, sprinting across the car park as she saw the lights of the bus approach.

‘Brooke!’

No! She stopped dead and turned, eyeing the low, expensive sports car and Jed Matthews with frustration. What was it like to have a car that started?

‘Not now, Mr Matthews. I’m already late.’ She turned and ran for the bus, her heart bursting as she crossed the lawn just in time to see it pull away. ‘No! No, no, no!’

Tears pricked her eyes and she slammed her bag down onto the seat and sat down next to it. Suddenly it was all too much and the tears slid down her cheeks. Damn. She never cried! Never! Brushing them away with the back of her hand, she gave herself a sharp telling-off. How pathetic! She was just tired, that was all. Tired. Nothing more.

Strong fingers curled into her shoulder and pulled her upright.

‘Get in.’ Jed propelled her towards his car. ‘I’ll give you a lift home.’

‘No! I don’t want a lift!’ She shook herself free and glared at him, her eyes still shiny with tears. ‘Just leave me alone, will you? I don’t need you here on top of everything else!! First the heating, then the roof and now the car, and I missed my bus…’

She choked on the lump in her throat and, before she could protest, strong arms had swept her off her feet and deposited her in the passenger seat. Warmth and comfort enveloped her and she sagged against the plush seat, the fight draining out of her like water through a sieve.

‘I don’t want a lift,’ she mumbled, her dark lashes clogged with tears as Jed leaned across her to fasten her seat belt. The urge to touch him was so strong it was a physical pain. She could see the dark shadow of his jaw and smell that tantalising male scent that she remembered so well. Dear God, she loved this man. She’d loved him from the first minute she’d stared into those sexy blue eyes, and she’d never stopped loving him even though she knew it was hopeless.

‘Where to?’ He pulled out of the hospital car park and drove slowly towards the main road, glancing at her expectantly.

She rallied her flagging spirits and fumbled for the doorhandle. ‘I don’t want you to take me home. I don’t want to go anywhere with you.’

‘Unless you want to add to your problems by falling out of a moving car, I suggest you leave the door shut,’ he drawled, picking up speed so that she had no choice but to release the handle.

‘You’re a bully.’

‘Stop behaving like a child and give me some directions.’ His words were clipped, his expression exasperated. ‘Brooke, you missed your bus and I’m taking you home. It’s as simple as that. Now, do I turn left or right?’

‘I don’t want to go home with you.’ For some reason the tears wouldn’t stop flowing and she hated herself for it.

‘Left or right?’ This time his voice was gentler and he paused at the junction with the main road and dug a hand in his pocket, handing her a tissue.

She took it and blew her nose hard. Oh, what was the point in fighting with him? She needed to get home and this was as good a way as any. ‘Right. Take the road towards Elterwater.’

‘Progress!’ He slammed his foot on the accelerator and the car sped along the quiet roads, making a soft purring sound that Brooke had never heard before. Her car made the oddest noises. Bangs and grinding noises. Nothing like this. Maybe this was what a car was meant to sound like when it worked.

His eyes were fixed on the road ahead. ‘So, how long have you lived up here?’

‘In the Lake District?’ She pushed the tissue up her sleeve. ‘Two years.’

‘Why did you move from London?’

‘I needed—’ She broke off and glared at his profile. ‘Who said I was in London?’

He gave a sigh, his dark hair glossy in the moonlight. ‘Are you always this defensive? Relax, Brooke. You won’t be giving anything away. I know who you are and I know you worked in London. Why did you move?’

For a hundred reasons, none of which she could tell him. ‘I like the country.’

‘Right.’ He glanced at her, one eyebrow lifted. ‘Where now?’

‘Left at this junction and then right up the hill. My cottage is first on the right. Or at least it was when I left it this morning,’ she said dryly. ‘Knowing my luck, it’s probably fallen down by now.’

He laughed but he gave her a keen look as he pulled the car to a halt. ‘That bad, huh?’

‘You have no idea,’ Brooke muttered under her breath, releasing her seat belt and giving him the best smile that she could manage. ‘Thanks for the lift.’

She scrambled out of the car, thinking that sports cars weren’t that easy to get out of, and slammed the door, her eyes narrowing as he did the same thing.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

His eyes glinted at her across the roof of the car. ‘Coming in to finish the conversation.’

‘No way!’ She didn’t want him in her house. There were too many clues in there. She swung her bag over her shoulder and glared at him as she marched past him and made for her front door. ‘It’s late and I want to go to bed.’

Bother! Why on earth had she said that? The look in his eyes brought the colour to her cheeks but thankfully he didn’t make the obvious remark.

‘We need to talk, Brooke.’ His voice was low and very, very male. ‘Preferably without an audience.’

Her hand shook as she tried to get the key in the lock. ‘We have nothing to talk about.’

The key turned at last and she pushed open the door and turned to say a firm goodbye, but he was already shouldering his way past her into the narrow hall of her cottage.

‘How dare you?’ She stared at him, outraged. ‘You can’t just barge in here and take over my life.’

‘I’m not taking over your life.’ Jed’s voice was calm and slightly amused. ‘Calm down. I don’t want anything from you except a conversation.’

‘Yes, well, after the day I’ve had I’m not up to conversation.’ Suddenly exhausted, Brooke dropped her bag in the hall and closed the front door. How was she going to keep her secret, with him prowling round her house?

Marching past him without a glance, she took the stairs two at a time and braced herself for the worst. What had a whole day of rain done to her house?

Gingerly she pushed open the door and gasped in horror as she saw the overflowing bucket. Replacing it quickly with an empty one, she sank back on her heels and stared helplessly at the ceiling.

‘So this is the roof bit of your problem?’ Jed lounged in her doorway, surveying the damage through narrowed eyes.

‘Sorry?’ Brooke glanced nervously at him but reassured herself that there was nothing in this room to give him any clues as to who normally slept there. She’d emptied it out as soon as the roof had started to leak.

‘When I picked you up you said, First the heating, then the roof and now the car. Presumably this is the roof bit of the problem.’

Brooke nodded and braced herself to lift the brimming bucket.

‘I’ll do that.’ He took it from her easily and deposited it in the bathroom. ‘How long has it been like this?’