The Midwife's Christmas Baby

She sat there staring at the test, in turmoil, emotions whirling through her.

The test result was clear: she was expecting a baby. The one thing she’d been told would never happen, by specialists she’d trusted absolutely. From what they’d said, the odds were so stacked against her falling pregnant, she’d have more chances of winning a huge prize on the lottery.

Though in some ways this felt better than winning the lottery. A baby. The gift she’d never dreamed she’d ever be able to have, except from the sidelines. Although she’d smiled and been genuinely pleased whenever one of her cousins or one of her friends had announced she was pregnant, a tiny part of Ella had mourned the fact she’d never know the joy of being a mum. And now she was actually going to be a mum. Have a baby of her own. For a moment, sheer joy flooded through her. Despite almost impossible odds, she was going to have a baby. A Christmas miracle.

But then panic took over. What about her career? She’d already lost a lot of ground during her studies, thanks to the combination of her dyslexia and the pain of the endometriosis. Some days, the pain had been so debilitating that she hadn’t been able to sit through lectures, and she’d had to borrow notes from friends instead of recording the lectures, and struggled as the words danced across the page. Even when her doctor had finally found some medication to help deal with the pain, things hadn’t got much better, because then she’d had the ruptured cyst...

She’d worried that if her tutors knew the truth about her illness, they’d make her drop the course. They knew about her dyslexia and they’d already given her so much help, letting her record lectures so she could listen to them and absorb the knowledge that way. She couldn’t possibly ask for yet more help. It’d be greedy and selfish. Ella almost gave in to her parents’ suggestion to forget all about being a midwife and go home to Ireland. But then she’d had a work placement and she’d loved working on the ward so much. It had made her more determined to follow her dream of being a midwife, so she’d struggled on and scraped through her exams.

And she was always aware that she should’ve done better as a student, that her grades had let her down. It drove her to work harder on the ward, to prove to everyone round her that she was better than her exam results said she was. All the way through her medical career, she’d asked to use computer software to dictate notes rather than rely on her terrible handwriting, she’d used coloured lenses in her glasses so she could manage with bright paper or a screen, and she’d asked colleagues to proofread her notes—because she’d never, ever put a patient at risk by not double-checking that everything in the notes was absolutely correct. And, even though people weren’t supposed to discriminate against you at work if you had a medical condition, Ella had always felt the need to work extra hard, just to prove that her dyslexia wouldn’t make any difference to her ability to do her job.

But going on maternity leave in six months’ time would have a huge impact on her career. She’d lose experience and study time. And what would happen when her maternity leave had ended? Juggling work and still managing to spend a decent amount of time with the baby, as a single parent, was going to be tricky. Arranging childcare to fit round her shifts would be tricky, too.

Though she wasn’t the baby’s only parent.

And that was something else that worried her.

There was only one man who could be the father, because she’d only ever slept with Oliver.

Once.

How, how, how had she managed to get pregnant? Then again, how many times had a young mum-to-be cried on her shoulder that it had been the first time she’d had sex and she’d been so sure you couldn’t get pregnant if it was your first time?

But, that night, Ella had told Oliver it was safe not to use a condom. Her doctors had been so sure that she couldn’t have children—that her Fallopian tubes were so badly damaged that she probably wouldn’t be able to have children even with the help of IVF—that she really had believed it was safe not to use a condom.

And now here she was: single, and pregnant with Oliver’s baby after a one-night stand. How on earth was she going to tell him about the baby?

She had absolutely no idea what Oliver would say or how he’d react to the news. Since the night of the ball, things between them had cooled considerably. She wasn’t sure which of the two of them was the more embarrassed about what had happened. He’d really reacted badly once he’d realised that she’d been a virgin. Working together had been awkward, and both of them had made excuses to avoid work social events where the other might be there.

Things had cooled even more when it turned out that Oliver had got the job as Assistant Head of Obstetrics. Although he wasn’t directly Ella’s boss, he was very much her senior. The last thing she wanted was for him—or anyone else at Teddy’s—to think that she’d slept with him in an attempt to boost her career. She’d never do anything like that.

At least Oliver wasn’t dating anyone else, as far as she knew, so that was one less complication to worry about. But how did you tell someone that you were expecting his baby, when you weren’t even in a relationship with him and you had no idea how he’d react?

She couldn’t even begin to frame the right words.

She knew she wasn’t going to get a happy-ever-after, where Oliver went down on one knee with a hand clutched to his chest, declared his undying love for her and asked her to marry him. Though she wasn’t naive enough to expect that. And if he did ask her, she certainly wasn’t going to marry a man who didn’t love her, just for the baby’s sake. That wouldn’t be fair to any of them.

But Ella did want Oliver to be involved with the baby. She’d had a really happy childhood. She’d been an only child, but her parents had both come from big families and she’d had plenty of cousins around, so it had been almost as good as having siblings. She wanted that for her baby, too: that feeling of being loved and wanted, of being part of a family. And, even though she wasn’t expecting Oliver to resurrect anything more than a distant kind of friendship with her, she hoped that he would at least be there for their child as the baby grew up. It would be a terrible shame for either of them to miss out on any of that.

But what if Oliver didn’t want anything to do with the baby at all? What if he expected her to have a termination?

Then she’d have to rethink her situation at the Royal Cheltenham. Seriously. She already knew that she absolutely didn’t want a termination. Though working with Oliver in any way, shape or form would be impossible if he expected her to take that option. She’d have to leave the hospital and find a job somewhere else.

Even though she loved her job here at Teddy’s, Ella knew she would need some support with the baby. Even if Oliver didn’t expect her to have a termination, if he didn’t want to be involved with the baby, then she’d have no choice but to go home to Ireland. Although her parents would be shocked and a bit disappointed in her at first, she knew they loved her and wanted the best for her. And she knew how much they’d wanted to be grandparents, even though they’d assured her that of course they weren’t bothered by her infertility. They’d be on her side and help her with the baby, and maybe she could work part-time as a midwife in Limerick. Have the best of both worlds.

She cupped her hands protectively around her abdomen. ‘Right at this moment, I have no idea how this is going to work out, baby,’ she said softly. ‘But one thing I do know: I definitely want you. I never dreamed I’d be lucky enough to have you, and I’m so glad I am. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me—and I’m going to try my hardest to be the best mum to you I can.’

She splashed water on her face, wrapped the test kit in a plastic bag and stored it in her pocket, then returned to the ward.

‘Are you all right, Ella?’ Annabelle, her best friend and the head neonatal nurse on the ward, asked.

‘I’m fine,’ Ella fibbed. ‘You haven’t seen Oliver anywhere, have you?’

‘I think he’s in a meeting. Is it urgent, or can one of the other doctors fill in for him?’

It wasn’t urgent exactly—her pregnancy wouldn’t show for a few weeks yet—but absolutely nobody else could fill in for him on this. Not that she could tell Annabelle without telling her the rest of it. And, given the reasons why Annabelle’s marriage to Max had collapsed, Ella wanted to choose her words carefully so she didn’t rip open her best friend’s old scars. Particularly as Max was now working at Teddy’s, easing in to a role as Sienna’s maternity cover. Annabelle had opened her heart to Ella about the situation, the previous day, and Ella just couldn’t say anything that might hurt her best friend.

‘It’ll wait,’ Ella said, trying to keep her voice light.

And it was probably for the best that Oliver wasn’t available right now. It would give her some space and time to think about how she was going to tell him the news.

The afternoon was also filled with antenatal appointments; one mum in particular was really worried.

‘So this baby’s in the same position that her brother was in?’ Sara Reynolds asked.

‘Back to back—yes,’ Ella confirmed.

‘So that means another long labour followed by an emergency section?’ Sara grimaced. ‘I know I agreed to a trial of labour, but I’m so scared my scar might come open halfway through and I’ll have to be rushed into the operating theatre. And the idea of being in labour for two days again and then being stuck in bed for a week, feeling as bad as I did last time, when Jack’s so lively...’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t do it. I can’t, Ella.’

‘It’s not going to be like that,’ Ella reassured her. ‘We’ll keep a really close eye on you, and we’re not going to let you struggle. Though you’re right about a back-to-back labour taking longer, and this little one’s been very happily settled in that position for the last three appointments.’

‘You don’t think she’ll move round?’

‘At this stage, no. I’ll go and have a word with your consultant,’ Ella said, ‘but I’m pretty sure he’ll agree with me in the circumstances that we should be able to offer you an elective section.’

‘But if I have a section, doesn’t that mean I’ll be stuck in bed for a week and I won’t be able to drive for a month?’ Sara looked worried. ‘And I need the car to get Jack to nursery. It’s four miles away and there isn’t a bus.’

‘Last time,’ Ella said gently, ‘you’d had a two-day labour before the section. It’s not surprising that it took it out of you. This time round, you won’t have to go through that first, so it’ll be easier and you’ll be a lot more mobile. Nowadays we say you can drive when you feel ready, though if you can give it three weeks to let yourself heal that would be good. Maybe one of your family or friends nearby can help with the nursery run?’

Sara bit her lip. ‘My cousin said she’d come and help.’

‘Well, that’s great.’ Ella smiled at her and squeezed her hand. ‘Give me five minutes and I’ll have a chat with your consultant.’

Who would have to be Oliver, she saw with dismay as she looked at Sara’s notes on the computer screen.

Provided she didn’t let herself think about the situation she hadn’t had a chance to discuss with him, she should be able to deal with this. Her patient had to come first.

Thankfully, Oliver was out of his meeting. Ella could see him sitting at his computer, typing away and looking slightly grim. Working on notes following his meeting, maybe? Hopefully he wouldn’t mind the interruption. She rapped on his open door. ‘You look busy, but please can I interrupt you for three minutes on behalf of one of my mums, given that you’re her consultant and you need to be the one to sign off on the decisions?’

‘Sure.’

He didn’t smile at her, but that was OK. This was work. She ran through the brief. ‘The mum is Sara Reynolds, thirty-six weeks, second baby. Last time round, the baby was back-to-back and she had a two-day labour followed by an emergency section. This baby’s been in the same position for the last three appointments, and I don’t think she’s going to move now. Sara originally agreed to a trial of labour, but she’s really worried that she’ll end up with another long labour, and she’ll have to have another emergency section that’ll leave her unable to function for weeks. Given the baby’s position and that Sara’s got a really lively toddler to cope with as well, I really think she’d be better off having a planned section.’

‘Let me look at her notes so I can bring myself up to speed with exactly what happened last time,’ Oliver said.

‘OK.’ And please don’t let him be long, Ella thought. She was starting to pick up the smell from his coffee cup and it was making her stomach roil.

But clearly his computer system was on a go-slow when it came to retrieving the patient’s notes, and it got to the point where she couldn’t bear the smell of coffee any more.

‘Excuse me a moment,’ she said, and fled to the toilet. Thankfully it was queasiness again rather than actually being sick, and she splashed water onto her face until she felt able to cope again.

When she got back to Oliver’s office, he’d clearly had time to review Sara’s notes.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I just felt a bit...’ No, now really wasn’t the time for her to tell him that it was morning sickness. She stopped. ‘I’m fine.’

‘If you’re going down with that sickness bug, I want you off the ward right now before you pass it on to anyone else,’ he said. ‘Go home, Ella.’

‘It’s not that.’ She didn’t want to tell him the real reason right now. It wasn’t the time or the place, and she still didn’t have the right words to explain the situation to him. ‘So do you have an answer for Sara?’

‘Yes. I agree with you, so I’ve marked on her notes that I’m happy for her to have an elective section. I’ll get it booked in with Theatre. Do you want me to come and have a word with her?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Especially as that coffee was making her feel queasy again and she didn’t want to have to dash off to the toilets again and risk him working out what was really going on. ‘Thanks. I’d better get back to my patient. Catch you later.’

Ella was acting really oddly, Oliver thought. Rushing out of his office like that. Yet she’d been adamant that she wasn’t going down with the sickness bug that was sweeping through the hospital.

So what was the problem?

Things had been awkward between them ever since the night of the masked ball. The night when he’d taken her virginity. He still felt guilty about it; and as a result he’d probably been even more cool with her than she was being with him.

He really ought to have a chat with her and try to get things back on an even keel between them. Especially as he was the Assistant Head of Obstetrics now. There was absolutely no way they could get involved with each other; although he wasn’t directly her boss, he was her senior. Though it would be nice to salvage some kind of working relationship, so they were at least on semi-friendly terms in the department. He liked Ella. He missed the easiness between them.

As for anything more... Well, he’d told her the truth. He wasn’t a good bet when it came to relationships. Even though Ella was the one woman he thought might actually tempt him to try, it just couldn’t happen. It would all go wrong and wreck their working relationship for good.

He knew she’d be writing up her notes after her appointments, so he quickly typed out a message on the hospital’s internal email system.

We need to have a chat. Come and see me when you’re done today.

Before he hit ‘send’, he added ‘please’, so she’d know he wasn’t being cold and snooty with her. And hopefully they could sort things out.

We need to have a chat. Come and see me when you’re done today, please.

Oh, help. That sounded very formal and very ominous, Ella thought as she read the email at the end of her shift. Why did Oliver want to see her?

She hadn’t put a foot wrong in her job ever since she’d moved from London to Teddy’s eighteen months ago. But, now Oliver was Assistant Head of Obstetrics, he was bound to have read everyone’s file, to help him get a handle on the team and see where anyone might need more training. If he’d read her file, then he’d know that she’d only just scraped through her exams at university. Was this why he wanted to see her? Did this mean he was going to expect her to prove herself all over again?

Great. Just the thing to start off a Saturday evening. Not.

Dreading what he was going to say, she went to Oliver’s office. ‘You wanted to see me?’

He looked up from his desk. ‘Yes. Close the door, please.’

Now that was really worrying. Was he about to tell her that he was reorganising the team and there wasn’t a space for her? She couldn’t think why else he would reverse his usual open-door policy.

Adrenalin slid down her spine, and she did as he’d asked.

‘We need to talk,’ he said, gesturing to the chair opposite his.

‘Right.’ She sat down.

‘Coffee?’

Even the thought of it made her gag. She tried really hard to stop the reflex, using the trick her dentist had taught her last time she’d had to have an X-ray by making a fist of her left hand, squeezing her thumb with her fingers. Except it didn’t help and she still found herself gagging.

‘Are you all right, Ella?’ Oliver asked.

‘Mmm,’ she fibbed. ‘Maybe some water would help.’

He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

Oh, help. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. At all. And it made it worse that every time she looked at him, she remembered what it felt like to be in his arms. What it felt like to kiss him. What it felt like when his bare skin was sliding against hers...

And this wasn’t the time and the place for remembering that, either. ‘Why did you want to see me?’ she asked instead of answering his question. ‘Am I losing my job?’

‘Losing your job?’ Oliver looked surprised. ‘Of course not. Why would you think that?’

‘Your note was pretty ominous.’

He frowned. ‘It was meant to be polite.’

‘And you just asked me to close the door...’

‘I’m not sacking you, Ella, and this isn’t a disciplinary meeting, if that’s what you’re thinking.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Things are a bit strained between us and I wanted to clear the air, that’s all. Look, let me grab you some water or some coffee, and we can—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Ella, you’ve gone green. Are you quite sure you’re not going down with the sickness bug?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Then what’s wrong?’

She couldn’t see her way out of this. She was going to have to tell him at some point, so it might as well be now. And she’d had all afternoon to think about how to tell him and still hadn’t come up with the right words. Maybe short and to the point would be the best option. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she said miserably.

Pregnant?

Oliver’s head spun and he actually had to shake his head physically to clear it.

Pregnant.

He’d been here before. With Justine. Except the baby hadn’t been his, because Justine had lied to him all along. He knew Ella was nothing like Justine; but the past still haunted him.

The last time those words had been said to him, he’d been just as shocked. The baby hadn’t been planned and he’d still been studying for his specialist exams. He hadn’t been ready for the extra responsibility of parenthood, but of course he’d done the right thing and stood by Justine. It was his duty.

And then, when Justine had finally told him the truth, he’d been let off the hook. Except by then he’d started to think of himself as a dad. Having that taken away from him had hurt even more than Justine’s betrayal. He’d been shocked by how isolated and lost he’d felt—and he’d sworn that never again would he let himself get emotionally involved or in a position where someone could hurt him like that.

Now here he was again, hearing a woman tell him that she was expecting his baby. Even though Ella came from a completely different background, and he’d worked with her for long enough to trust her on a lot of levels—the situation brought back all the hurt and mistrust.

‘How pregnant?’ he asked carefully.

‘My last period was the middle of October. I’m nearly three weeks late.’

‘Seven weeks, then,’ he said, calculating rapidly. They’d had unprotected sex on the night of the Hallowe’en ball. That would’ve been two weeks after the start of her last period, from what she’d just said. Which meant they’d had sex right in the middle of her cycle: the most fertile time.

And she’d been a virgin—something that made him feel guilty and protective of her at the same time. And which put all kind of inappropriate memories in his head: the way her voice had gone all husky with arousal, the way her pupils had gone wide and dark with desire, the way it had felt when he’d finally eased into her...

Oh, for pity’s sake. He couldn’t think of that now. She’d just told him she was pregnant.

Of course it was his baby. There was no question that it was anyone else’s baby. Everyone knew that Ella was completely devoted to her job—come to think of it, she hadn’t dated anyone since he’d known her.

Except for that one snatched evening with him. And he’d been the only man who’d ever shared her bed like that—with the ultimate closeness. Which made it special, because Ella wasn’t the sort to sleep around.

She looked anxious. ‘So you believe me?’

‘That you’re pregnant? Or that it’s mine? Obviously the dates tally. And, given the situation, it’s pretty obvious that the baby’s mine.’ He looked at her. ‘I assume you’ve done a test, to be this sure about it?’

She nodded. ‘Today.’

‘And you didn’t suspect anything before today?’

She frowned. ‘No.’

‘Even though your period was late?’

‘I put that down to stress,’ she said. ‘You know it’s been crazy round here, with so many people off sick, plus Sienna’s going off on maternity leave really soon and it’ll take Max a while to settle in properly. We’re all rushed off our feet.’

‘So what made you decide to do a test today?’ Then he remembered how she’d run out of his office, admitting afterwards that she’d felt a bit sick. He’d assumed she was going down with the bug. But it hadn’t been that at all. ‘You started getting morning sickness,’ he said, answering his own question.

She nodded. ‘I can’t bear the smell of strong aftershave and coffee. That’s what made me...’ She swallowed hard, obviously feeling queasy at just the thought of the scents.

He grabbed one of the bottles of water he kept in his desk drawer and pushed it across the desk at her. ‘Here.’

‘Thank you.’ She unscrewed the cap and took a sip of water. ‘Oliver, I didn’t mean this to happen. I wasn’t trying to trap you, or try to sleep my way up the ladder or anything like that. It wasn’t planned.’

‘Too right it wasn’t planned,’ he said grimly. He wasn’t angry with her, but he was furious with himself. Why hadn’t he taken proper responsibility when it came to precautions? More to the point, why had he made love with her in the first place, when he’d managed to keep his hands to himself and his libido under control for the last eighteen months? Why had he given into temptation that night, let the single glass of champagne he’d drunk go completely to his head and wipe out his inhibitions enough to let him kiss her and take her to bed?

Though he really wasn’t prepared to answer those questions right now.