Midwife In A Million

Rory was the last person she wanted to spend twenty-four hours locked in an ambulance truck with.

She turned away and looked into the room where Lucy lay. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe what she’d felt for him when she’d been sweet sixteen and besotted enough to practically force him to make love to her would be different.

Of course it would. He was ten years older now—that made him twenty-eight. With his job the onroad experiences would age anyone, so he’d probably have changed, put on city weight, look a lot older. She’d be fine.

The call came in just as Rory finished unpacking. Betty knocked like a machine gun on his door and Rory flinched from too many sudden call situations in the city. Maybe he did need this break away from work.

Betty in a battledress shirt and viciously creased trousers was a scary thing as she stood ramrod-straight outside his door, and he wondered if he should salute her.

He opened the door wider, but gingerly, because the handle felt as if it was going to come off in his hand. The place was falling apart.

The fierce expression on Shultzie’s face made him wonder if he was going to be put through an emergency fire drill. ‘Yes, ma’am?’

‘Kate Onslow’s on the phone for you. Best take it in the hall quick smart.’

He moved fast enough even for Shultzie to be satisfied.

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