Midwives On Call At Christmas: Midwife's Christmas Proposal

Watching the dynamics between Simon and his father had been fascinating. She certainly looked at Angus differently after some of the exploits Mia had mentioned. Who would have known?

She’d never seen such equal footing between father and son but, then, her experience was limited to snatches of dysfunctional family life. Maybe it was because Simon had made it to twenty before he’d even met his biological father. Angus was certainly proud of him and the feeling looked to be mutual. And both of them obviously adored Mia and the girls.

She’d have felt a bit like the Little Match Girl looking in the Christmas window if it hadn’t been for Maeve, who, despite looking like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine, had looked more lost than she had. Why was that?

Maeve was who she should be concentrating her thoughts on. Especially if she agreed to join Tara’s caseload.

An hour later she wandered down to the kitchen and Maeve, immaculate in designer maternity wear and perfectly made up, was there, picking at a piece of toast as if she wanted to eat it one crumb at a time. Perhaps her pregnancy hormones still gave her nausea in the mornings. Tara had seen lots of women like that well into their last trimester of pregnancy.

‘Morning, all.’ Friendly but not too pushy, she included Maeve and Louisa in her smile as she sat down. Louisa liked to fuss and judging by the tension in the room Maeve didn’t appreciate it.

‘Hello, dear.’ Louisa cast her a relieved glance. ‘What are you doing today?’

‘Have a young mums’ class this afternoon but happy to do whatever if you need something, Louisa.’

‘No. I’m off to bingo with a friend down at the hall and I wondered if you and Maeve could fix your own lunches.’

‘No problem.’ She smiled at the younger woman. ‘We’ll manage, won’t we, Maeve?’

The girl barely looked up. ‘Of course.’

‘Still nauseous?’ Tara could see she looked a little pale around the cheeks.

Maeve grimaced. ‘Getting worse, not better. And I’m starting to get this insane itch that’s driving me mad.’

Tara frowned. A tiny alarm pinged in her brain with the symptoms but she let it lie for a moment. ‘Not fun. What have you tried?’

‘Pretty well everything.’ She shrugged. ‘Pressure-point armbands. Ginger. Sips of cold water. Sips of hot water for nausea.’ She absently scratched her belly through her shirt. ‘And just calamine for the itch but I only put it on the places you can’t see. I never liked pink as a kid and it’s too embarrassing to be painted pink all over.’

Tara laughed. ‘That’s the thing with midwives. We know all the things we tell other women and it sucks when it doesn’t work.’

‘Embarrassing really.’ The young woman looked a little less tense now that Tara had acknowledged Maeve knew her stuff.

‘I imagine being pregnant would expand your thirst for remedies?’

Maeve rolled her eyes and even smiled. ‘You have no idea. I’ve read everything I can find on common complaints of pregnancy.’

‘I’ll have to get you to brush me up on them later.’

Tara was glad to hear that Maeve really did have a sense of humour. ‘Makes you wonder what the women thought when it didn’t work for them either.’ They smiled at each other.

Maeve nodded. ‘I’ll clarify next time. Works most of the time.’

‘Have you had a chance to sit down with someone and talk about the actual plans you have for labour?’

It was a reasonable question, considering she’d just moved to a new centre for care, but Tara felt the walls go up from across the table.

Maeve shot her a glance. ‘You mean antenatal classes? Simon been talking to you?’

‘I’m guessing Simon talks to everyone.’ A little bit ambiguous. ‘But Mia asked, yes. I usually run a younger mums’ class this week and I thought seeing as you were a midwife you might be interested in helping me—from a pregnant woman’s perspective. But, then, you might prefer the idea of just a chat, and I’d be happy to do that if you did want one if you’re not already teed up with someone else?’

‘Sorry. I’m just a bit narky lately. Everything is a mess.’

Life. Didn’t she know it could do that! ‘Oh, yeah. It gets like that sometimes. I’m an expert at it. Plus your itch and nausea would impact on anyone’s day, let alone someone carrying a watermelon everywhere.’

Maeve did laugh then. ‘Feels like it. And it feels like this pregnancy is never going to end, but I’m going to be patient and not let anyone push me into something I don’t want.’

‘Good on you. Who were you thinking of seeing here?’

Maeve shrugged. ‘Don’t know. As long as it’s low key I don’t care. I saw the doctor Simon teed me up with a few times but last month he started talking about induction of labour and possible epidurals and maybe even Caesareans. I couldn’t believe it, so I told Simon I was out of there. He wouldn’t hear of a home birth and we compromised on Lyrebird Lake Birth Centre.’

‘And the father of the child?’

Maeve looked away. ‘Conspicuous by his absence. And I don’t want to look back on this birth and regret it. I’m already regretting enough about this pregnancy. I need to have some control and I wasn’t going to get it at Simon’s hospital.’

Tara was a hundred per cent agreeable to that. ‘Go, you, for standing up for yourself and your baby.’ Tara wondered if she could offer without putting too much pressure on her.

‘There’s three doctors here who do antenatal care, and four midwives. If you think you’d be happy on a midwifery programme, you just need to pick someone. I’ve two women due in the next fortnight but apart from home visits I’m free to take on new women. You could meet the other midwives tomorrow but keep it in mind. You’re probably due for tests around now anyway.’

Maeve looked across and smiled with a shyness Tara guessed was way out of character. ‘Actually, that would be great.’

‘You sure?’

Maeve looked relieved. ‘Very. And we can talk about the labour then too.’

‘Fine. We’ll wander down to the clinic after morning tea, check you and baby out, and get all the papers sorted with the stuff you brought. If you change your mind after I’ve nosed my way through your medical and social history I can hand you on to someone else.’

‘Lord. Social history. And isn’t all that a disaster? Sometimes I feel like I’ll never get sorted. I never used to be like this.’

‘Sympathy.’ Tara smiled in complete agreement. ‘I was pretty lost before I came here. The good news is that you’re female so you’ll still come out on top.’

Maeve blinked and then smiled. ‘Okay, then. Must remember that for my clever brother.’

‘He seems nice.’

‘Too nice.’ Both girls looked at each other, were obviously thinking of their previous boyfriends who had been anything but, and laughed. Ten seconds later they heard footsteps leaping up the back stairs and Simon appeared behind the back porch screen door. Of course both of them struggled to control their mirth.

‘What’s so funny?’ The door shut quietly behind him and he looked from one to the other, brows raised, fine sweat across his brow. Obviously he’d been running.

‘Nothing.’ In unison.

He shook his head at them. ‘Okay. Girl talk. You want to go for a swim, Maeve?’

Tara saw her face change. Become shuttered. ‘No, thanks. I’m catching up on my emails.’

‘Tara?’

She could just imagine Simon in swimmers. Wouldn’t she just. ‘No, thanks.’

‘You sure?’

Maeve chimed in. ‘Go. It’s your day off. We can do that other thing when you come back. There’s hours before then.’

Tara didn’t understand the wall Maeve had erected between herself and her brother. If she had a brother like Simon she’d be all over him, but there was probably stuff she didn’t know. ‘Fine. Thanks. I love to swim.’ She looked at him. Saw him glance at his watch. ‘I’m guessing you want to go now?’

Simon nodded and he seemed happy enough that she’d agreed to come. She’d hate to think all these people were forcing her on him but what the heck. She’d enjoy it while it lasted.

‘Five minutes enough time? Out the front?’ he said.

‘I’ll be there.’

Simon watched Tara towel her shoulders vigorously and then rub shapely calves and stand on one leg and dry her toes.

He suffered a brief adolescent urge to metamorphose into her towel. Apart from her delightful breasts her body was firm and supple and he suspected she would feel incredibly sleek and smooth in his arms.

The swim had proved to a little more bracing than they’d both expected and he saw her shiver. He guessed she’d had a cold start. ‘Sorry. I was hot from my run so it feels good to me.’

She shrugged. ‘Hey, it’s summer in Queensland. I can swim all year round.’ The idea was sound but the rows of goose-bumps covering both arms and her delightful thighs made Simon want to bring her in close and warm her against his chest.

Or maybe it wasn’t the goose-bumps he wanted to warm against him. It had been a while since the last time he’d noticed so much about a woman. Passing glances, inner appreciation, sure, but this little firebrand had him constantly ready without any effort on her part. Danger. Alert.

Thankfully she remained oblivious to his shift in thoughts. That was a good thing.

He could see her mind was still on the swim. ‘And Lyrebird Lake’s too far south for crocodiles.’

Crocodiles. Now, there’s a thought. He’d bet she wasn’t afraid of any animal. ‘Not sure why but I get the feeling it would take more than a crocodile to scare you off something you wanted to do.’

She grinned at him and that was an added bonus. Her whole face lit up and warmed him more than any towel could. ‘Thank you, kind sir. I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘It was.’ And a bit of a surprise. He didn’t usually go for the daredevil type. ‘So you have an interesting bucket list?’

‘I’ve always wanted to go skydiving. Birthday present for myself next week.’

Of course she was. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yep.’ Her eyes shone at the thought.

Well it was the last thing he wanted to do. ‘Birthday wish I wouldn’t be keen on.’

She shook her head and her spiky hair flicked droplets around like a little sparkler. ‘They say you’re never the same after you do it. All to do with my belief to live life so I know that I’ve been here before I leave this earth.’ She looked so intense when she said that. There was something incredibly gloomy about such a vibrant young woman contemplating her mortality that chilled him.

‘You planning to leave this world?’

She shrugged. ‘Not planning to, but anything can happen. My dad and mum died when I was six. That’s why I’m always glad when people driving arrive safely. I was made a ward of the state. I grew up in an orphanage.’

‘I’m sorry about your parents.’ Hard reality to face at that age. At any age. ‘What about her mother? Your grandmother?’

‘Died in childbirth. No siblings.’ No expression. No plea for sympathy. And he was guessing not much childhood—which explained a lot. But there was a wall that said as good as a raised hand, ‘Don’t give me any sympathy.’

‘Nasty family history.’ Understatement. He seriously wasn’t being flippant. It was a shocker and he could see how that could be a trigger for more risky, adventurous behaviour. ‘My life is boring in comparison.’

‘Tell me about boring.’

He shrugged. ‘Nothing to tell except my mother didn’t tell my biological father she was pregnant, a minor glitch I didn’t find out about till after I grew up. That was as adventurous as I got.’

‘That’s adventurous. Especially searching him out as an adult.’ There was wistfulness in her eyes when she said that and he knew she wished she had someone to search out. He’d never actually looked at it like that.

‘So, anyway, maybe I should be up for exciting escapades.’ His voice trailed off as she pulled her T-shirt over her head and it stuck, alluringly, in a few damp places.

He closed his mouth and glanced away. Regathered his thoughts with some difficulty. ‘One day I will try being adventurous for a change.’

She looked him up and down and he sucked in his belly. Not that he was ashamed of his six pack, and not quite sure why he should even think about it because he wasn’t usually a vain man, but he had no control over the reflex. She just did that to him.

‘You could jump with me on Tuesday if you like.’

He knew the horror showed on his face.

To make it worse, then she laughed at him. And not even with him. Not sure he liked that either.

Tough. He wasn’t jumping. ‘How about I come and be ground support? Hold a glass of champagne for you.’

He could see she liked the idea of that and he felt he’d redeemed himself somewhat. ‘Thank you. That’d be very cool.’

‘Okay. We’ll talk about it later when I get the picture out of my mind of you stepping out of a perfectly good plane.’ They picked up the towels and walked back towards the path.

‘So what were you and Maeve talking about doing later?’

‘Antenatal clinic. I offered and she’s accepted to go on my caseload.’ She sounded a little hesitant and he guessed it could be confronting to take on the sister of the consultant. He needed Maeve to see someone and he didn’t have much chance of her listening to him at the moment.

‘That’s great. Really. I think you guys will have a great rapport.’

She flashed a grateful glance at him. ‘Thanks, Simon. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll take good care of her.’

CHAPTER FIVE

THE ANTENATAL CLINIC opened at eleven a.m. seven days a week. That way the morning midwife had discharged any women and babies who were due to go home. Plus the ward was often less busy so the women booking in could look around. Except when there was a woman in labour.

Tara had ten women on her caseload at the moment in various stages of pregnancy and two who had already delivered on the six-week postnatal check programme.

The first visit at least would be held at the clinic but most visits she would do at the woman’s home. All the midwives took turns to carry the maternity phone in case one of the other midwives needed help in the birthing suite or two women went into labour at once on the same midwife’s caseload.

Maeve looked very interested in the running of the unit, judging by the way her head never stopped swivelling, and Tara smiled quietly to herself. She’d bet there’d be some thought about staying on after Maeve’s baby was born.

Even during the antenatal check Maeve was asking questions about the way they ran the caseloads, and the girls were firm friends by the time the official paperwork was completed.

Tara sat back. ‘Okay. So your blood pressure is slightly elevated and your baby is a little under the normal size for thirty-six weeks but all of those things could be normal. It’s nothing startling but we’ve done a couple of extra blood tests to rule out anything we need to watch for.’

‘You thinking my blood pressure could go up more? So watch out for toxaemia?’

‘We’ll both have a good look at the results. At the moment you feel well in yourself, and baby is moving nicely, but I wonder about the nausea and the itch.’ She looked at her. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ Maeve sighed. ‘Of course I’m thinking it could need watching. That’s why I’m glad we sorted out the caseload. In case Simon decided I was high risk and whisked me back to Sydney.’

‘If you got a lot worse we are a low-risk unit. But being thirty-six weeks helps so we don’t have to deal with a premature baby if things did escalate.’

‘Don’t tell Simon.’

Tara had wondered if this would come. ‘If Simon asks, I’m not going to lie.’

‘And if he doesn’t ask, don’t tell him.’

‘As long as the tests come back normal, there’s nothing to talk about. Sure.’

‘You wiggling out of that?’

‘You asking me for the impossible?’ Tara countered, and she saw the realisation in Maeve’s eyes that she wasn’t a pushover. She couldn’t be.

Maeve stood up and so did Tara. It was going to go one way or the other.

‘Fine.’ Maeve shook her head. ‘Sorry. I don’t know why Simon makes me so wild. He hasn’t done anything wrong. I guess it’s because I feel like I let him down when I made the choices I did.’

‘Choices are there to be made and who knows what the end result will be? But, boy, do I know that feeling.’ She handed Maeve her antenatal card. ‘I’m trying to learn that blame and guilt are useless emotions. So is resentment. It’s helped me. Hard to do but letting all that go has really made me start each day fresh.’

Maeve patted her stomach. ‘A bit hard when the reminder is poking out in front.’

‘Nah. Perfect time to be fresh with a new baby. I’ll be there for your birth, Louisa will spoil you rotten, and Simon will be a doting uncle.’ She looked at Maeve. ‘You say the baby’s father is out of the picture. Do you think he’ll try to find you when he gets out?’

‘I don’t think so. As I said before, a crazy, stupid, one-night stand with one of Simon’s old friends, a hunk I’ve always fancied, but he didn’t think to tell me he was going to prison. He hasn’t answered one of my letters. Or Simon’s attempts to talk to him. So that just makes me feel even more stupid.’

‘Nope. Silly would be if you were waiting for him with open arms and no explanations.’ Maeve made no move to go now they were finished and Tara glanced at her watch.

‘If you want to come and help me with the young mums’ class, it starts around one p.m. In the mothers’ tearoom behind the desk.’ Tara pointed.

‘Thanks. I’ll think about it. I might go for a walk now after sitting for so long.’

‘Sure. Or have lunch and come back. I’ll go home soon and grab a bite.’ One of the midwives signalled to Tara as they walked out the door and Maeve shooed her towards the midwife.

‘I’ll go for a walk and come back.’

Tara arrived back at the manse half an hour later and Simon was in the kitchen, making coffee. He’d been waiting for them to return and, to him, it seemed like they’d been gone for hours. Maybe Maeve did have something wrong. Maybe his niggling worries did have some foundation. By the time Tara arrived, minus Maeve, he could barely contain his concern.

He forced himself not to pounce on her and gestured to the pot. ‘You want one?’

‘Love one, thanks. Black.’

‘No sugar.’

‘How did you know?’

He had to smile at that. He’d asked Louisa yesterday. ‘So how did the antenatal visit go?’

‘Fine.’

‘So everything’s fine?’

‘I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.’

‘Come on. Reassure me.’

‘Sure. We did bloods for thirty-six weeks and baby is moving well.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Nothing else to tell until the blood results came back or we’d be speculating.’

‘Speculating about what?’

‘Nothing yet.’ She was squirming and he wanted to know why, though it warred with his sense of fair play, but then there was big brother mode.

He saw the way Tara straightened her back and he felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn’t have had to gird her loins against him.

She sized him up. ‘You know, you’re the one who said we should have a great rapport, and I’m just wondering how you think that will be built if I run to you with results and private information. I’m assuming you don’t discuss your pregnant ladies with their relatives?’

He paused. Looked at her. ‘No. You’re right. I take that on board.’ In fact, he was ashamed of himself for leaning on her but the niggling unease about his sister’s health was also a concern. ‘But if you’re keeping something from me about my baby sister, I won’t be happy.’

He couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Tara was up for the challenge. ‘Thanks for that. Didn’t pick you for a bully. Silly me.’

True, and he didn’t know what had come over him. Simon reached out, wanted to touch her briefly on her shoulder, but pulled back. ‘Tara, I’m sorry. I have no right to harass you. Please accept my apology.’

Her phone rang and she glanced at the number. ‘Now I know why you drive your sister mad. Good intentions and apologies. Would make anyone feel bad. But I’m not going there.’ She answered the phone. Listened and then said, ‘Okay.’

She glanced at Simon with a bland smile. ‘No problems. Gotta go.’ Pulled open the fridge and grabbed an apple before she sailed out the door. ‘See you later.’

Simon watched her walk away and he knew he’d been in the wrong—but she still hadn’t given him answers.

The problem was that the last few days he’d been aware that something was not quite right about Maeve. He hated it had been a month since she’d last been seen, and he couldn’t put his finger on the symptoms. But pressuring Tara was unlike him.

He guessed on Monday he’d be in a position to access his sister’s blood pathology files when he went to work but he’d try not to look. It wasn’t his practice to second-guess a colleague and he shouldn’t start now. But it would be challenging not to peek.

CHAPTER SIX

MONDAY MORNING SAW Tara scooting around the ward, tidying up after their last discharged mother and baby. The first thing she’d done was check Maeve’s results and thankfully they were totally normal so it was fine she hadn’t mentioned anything to Simon.

As she worked she was thinking at least if Simon asked she could say everything was fine. Funny how she wasn’t looking forward to the next time she saw him in one way and in the other she looked forward to just ‘seeing him’.

Before she could think too much of it a car screeched to a stop out front and a harried-looking man she hadn’t seen before leapt from the driver’s side before Tara could open the passenger door.

‘Her waters broke. She’s pushing.’

Tara sent a reassuring nod towards the strained face of the woman seated awkwardly in the front seat, and wished this had happened earlier at handover so at least there would be two midwives there for the birth. Judging by the concentration that had settled over the woman’s face and the tiny outward breaths she was making, that wasn’t going to happen.

The man said, ‘It’s breech and they said Susan had to have a Caesarean birth in Brisbane.’

Tara doubted a Caesarean would be possible in the minutes they had left. ‘Okay. I’ll grab a wheelchair while you stand Susan up and we’ll get inside at least.’

She was thinking breech, Simon, handy, and before she spun the strategically placed wheelchair out the door she pressed the little green button they used for paging help so that someone from the other side of the hospital could lend her a hand, even if it was only to phone the midwife and doctor on call.

‘It’s okay, Susan.’ She spoke in a slow, calm voice, because people arriving at the last minute in labour wasn’t that unusual, and she smiled again as she eased the woman into the chair and began pushing swiftly towards the door. ‘You’ll be fine. Help’s coming, and we’ve had breech babies here before.’ Not in her time but she’d heard the stories and Susan’s belly didn’t look full term so baby might be a little early as well. All good things for a breech delivery.

The stress on the husband’s face eased a little and Tara shared additional comfort. ‘The more worried Susan is, the more painful the contractions feel. That seems a shame so if everyone takes a deep breath and just accepts that baby is going to do this his or her way, we’ll work it out.’

‘Thank God, someone with sense.’ The muttered comment from the woman who hadn’t previously spoken startled Tara, and she had to bite her lip to stop a laugh, but then Susan was hit by another contraction and became far too busy to add further pithy comments.

The sound of footsteps meant help was almost here and by the time Tara had Susan standing up from the chair beside the bed Simon appeared at the doorway.

From worrying about when she saw him next to relief at his appearance. Another miracle. ‘Simon. Great. This is Susan, who’s just arrived. Waters have broken and she wants to push her breech baby out very soon.’